Wrong

I've officially decided today that when I move, and potentially sooner, I'm going to have to cut all contact with my mother. My former friends would be so proud of me.

I stopped at my mother's today like I do everyday, to pick up my mail, and to eat lunch. She was sleeping on the couch, a rareity, but one I tried to be conscious and considerate of.

There was a note on the computer desk that said to make sure I was completely shutting down the computer, as they were experiencing problems when it wasn't properly shut down. I didn't take offense to the note, I was truly glad she was communicating in a civil manner.

Well civility didn't last long. She woke up about 1/2 way into my stay like a bear with a sore ass. She started screaming at me about the computer as if I were some dog that had just pissed on the floor, and she wanted to rub my nose in it. I stopped short of telling her that I wasn't illiterate.

I calmly explained during a break in her tirade that I was not experiencing the problems with the computer, I wasn't aware that it was freezing, and I would ensure that the computer was being completely shut down. Isn't that what she wants to hear? I even managed to keep an even tone.

But she continued on her tirade. Apparently I don't close cabinet doors correctly so you say "hey, the cabinet doors haven't been getting closed all the way [I'm short, these things happen], can you make sure you're closing them?" There's no need for mean comments. There's no need to talk about me behind my back.

She finished her tirade by telling me that I was supposed to help her install her Turbo Tax. That she asked me to, and I told her I would. I'm pretty good about remembering conversations that I've had with people. I don't remember this one, but if she asked me in passing, then it's possible I wouldn't.

She goes, "it's been right here all along," and pulls it out from under a huge pile of junk.

I replied by saying that I "don't go through your stuff to know it was down there," before walking out the door.

I am going tomorrow to put in a mail forward, and open a P.O. Box. Hopefully that will solve the need to go to her house as often.

I have officially called the Exton Behavioral and Health Clinic. They work with people like me who are in need of so much help it's unreal. I'm still upset. I'm officially divorcing my own mother, which is so wrong.....

My Birthday Dinner

Last night I went out with my family for my two-week late birthday dinner, which, by the way, I had forgotten about. Between the business, the new semester, a potential second job, and working FT I have almost forgotten I had a birthday, much less a celebration.

We had to wait for my brother to get home. I slept in, didn't eat until about 11:00, shoving about 3 cups of spaghetti down my throad before heading out to "B"'s parents to pick up a shitload of boxes. I then left and worked out, did some homework, and didn't eat again till dinner.

I did my usual, and ordered a salad before dinner. I forgot to ask for the dressing on the side, and finished the salad not feeling much better than before I ate. When my food came (and Outback has an excellent BBQ sauce), it only added to my misery. I haven't eaten sugar in quite a bit, and the whole concept of sugar made my stomach want to purge. I ended up having one rib, a few fries, and a couple of apples which were in a caramel (i.e. sugar) sauce.

To top off the birthday dinner fun, the waitress was fantastic, and my grandfather (being cheap, of course) didn't want to give her 20%. Like, what? I tried explaining that I have worked for tips, and I know great service when I see it. He wouldn't allow me to contribute out of my pocket to give her an appropriate tip. I ended up walking out of the restaurant I was so mad!

I'm still not feeling good today. So I'm hoping it's just a bug, but either way I'm calling the doctor tomorrow. More about that later

Conspiracy Theory

I've been having a lot of strange dreams recently. For example, two nights ago I dreamed that I was doing something when the Feds approached me, and asked me to come along for some questioning. I agreed. Next thing I know, I'm in the cafeteria of the jail with Chris, and my cousin "B". I'm trying so hard to be able to get to someone-"B" especially- to find out what happened.

When I finally did reach him at his lunch table, I explained what happened, and that no one had even given me a chance to call my lawyer. "B" explained to me that it didn't matter, that they already knew about the assault. He didn't elaborate, but in my dream I got the impression that I knew what they were talking about.

~~Wake up~~~

Last night, I dreamed that Josh was once again at my house, and he and Katie were sleeping in [what is currently] my grandparents bed. The alarm clock has always remained on the headboard for as long as I can remember, and Josh and Katie's alarm went off, so I thought I turned it off, but apparently snoozed it.

Fast forward two seconds to Josh being escorted to the kitchen by Katie (a mere few turns in the house), he's on an oxygen tank, and we get into an altercation. Josh begins accusing me of weird things like "setting the alarm on purpose because I knew he was sick," and other bizarre shit. Then he tells me to get out, and I tell him that I'm leaving (without my stuff mind you), and scream at him that he can blame it on this bizarre b.s. but in reality it all began when I hooked up with Chris.

Fast forward two seconds, and I am on an escalator in what looks like an airport, complaining to someone that I have no where to go.

~~Wake Up~~

I've looked up the jail dream, and it tells me that I'm being supressed in some way. But more about that later...

The Hardest Thing...

Last night Chris called me again, much to my delight. Not to say that he hasn't called me since the last blog, he has, but nothing worth mentioning. We go through our normal b.s. and he tells me that he got to see his daughter, Amber on Saturday. He also tells me that his mom and dad accompanied her as did his ex-girlfriend, or Amber's mother.

I'm not going to lie, I don't like this woman. If we were to ever cross paths on the street, it would take divine intervention to keep me from snapping her twig body in half. I wish I could say such rage is inspired by my love for Chris, and her dirty dealings. Fact of the matter is every guy I've ever dated, and I've dated quite a few, have had previous girlfriends. The past isn't the issue.

If it were simply that I felt she was a threat to my relationship, then I could also see it. She's Amber's mother, after all. Chris has, on many occassions, thinking this was the case, reassured me that there is 0% chance of that happened whether or not he and I work out.

The fact of the matter is that I've never met the woman but I know that she's spiteful and mean. And passive-agressive. I don't know anyone who hasn't at minimum experienced these emotions, struggled with how to express their displeasure, and/or reacted out of spite, but you grow up. You learn how to communicate (undoubtedly a life-long process), and you learn how to not do stupid things.

This woman is just the antichrist of everything I stand for, and not only am I forced to deal with her being a part of my life; not only is she living with Chris's parents, and hooking up with some other guy, and WEARING HICKEYS TO VISITS; but she is also GOT Chris's mother harassing him incessantly about "getting back together."

There's nothing like having something shoved down my throat constantly to make me want to do it....

So how do I best deal with a demon that I haven't had the pleasure of breaking her face err meeting her face-to-face. And ultimately, what is the best defense? Killing her with kindness? After all, I never want to put Chris or Amber in a position to choose between me, and his mom....

And I thought the hardest part was going to be jail...

Better Bring In The Big Boys...

Before I last went down to North Carolina, my mother told me something that I was apparently supposed to keep secret. You see, my mother's sister, and her immediately family apparently sent an e-mail to my mother telling her that if she continued to talk to my cousin, her son, their brother, they would cease to have any contact with those members of the family at all.

When I went down for the visit, it wasn't as if I intentionally blurted out that this had happened, but with new prospects on the horizons, the topic coming up, and it being something I would want to know, it came out. In all fairness, had she specifically told me NOT to tell him, I wouldn't have. As much as it would've killed me, I wouldn't. Becuase being trustworthy is a very valuable adjective I'd like to keep in my corner.

Apparently when my cousin called her, he "jumped all over her" about the comment. So of course she cornered me, giving me the 3rd degree for not even letting it go in the first place!

While I'll admit I was wrong, it's also fair to say that those individuals on the other side of the fence should stop issuing ultimatums that they have no business bringing up. Just know that should a war rage, I am the wrong person to piss the fuck off. :)

Reality Is Still Stranger Than Fiction

Today I showed up at my mom's like I normally would, and checked the mailbox to find...SURPRISE! mail actually in there. Much to my delight, it included one letter from Chris, and one letter from B recapping all the business talk of the weekend.

I walk in the door, sorting out the mail, giving my mom hers. I can tell she's in a bad mood by the way she threatens to "kill" the dog for getting excited and jumping on me. She's done so since she was a puppy. She'll be 8 in November.

I walked over to the computer desk, and began to dig into my mail when she said, "What do you get a letter EVERY day?

"Maybe," I replied sarcastically. "And besides this one is from B."

She proceeded to go on a tirade about how she hasn't heard from him in two and a half months, letters or phone calls, and he's not calling. Then she turns to my stepfather and accuses him of hiding a whore that is answering the phone and picking up to hear who the call is from, only to hang up. He gives a look like she's crazy.

So she accuses "B" of being a liar, of not really calling her, and being dyslexic, BEFORE dramatically storming upstairs, leaving no door unslammed in her path.

I left, visibly upset, and went back to work.

Having to do some serious work for the company tonight, I showed up. My dog, of course, began barking. I saw my mother rise from her chair and begin to walk off, screaming at the dog, and pointing at me saying some about "your mother."

Come to find out that she's telling the dog to "get glasses" (a frequent comment) because it's "only her mommy."

If she's not on medication (which I suspect she is), she needs to be!

January Visit

Friday night I began my trip down to North Carolina by leaving work at 4:30 (and the momentary panic that I possibly wouldn't be able to leave work on time), and headed to Philly to catch my flight. I got there in plenty of time, stopping off at the Oregon Diner even to catch dinner with my mom. I was at the airport late enough to avoid long lines, and to catch minor flack for not taking my boarding pass through the metal detector with me. In all fairness, all stuff in the bin, means all stuff in the bin. It's similar to entering the prison, but with considerably more stuff.

The man on the other side jokingly told me that I owed him $10 for not bringing the boarding pass through. He let me go on a technicality, and off I went. I tried to sit and read about how I'm supposed to act with children, but ultimately gave in to a far better read. The flight in was uneventful, and I had a whole 1/2 row to myself! Of course there was a guy sitting diagonally back from me that kept trying to catch my eye. Thanks to excellent peripheral vision, I narrowly managed to avoid him.

I made it at a relatively early time to pick up my rental car. Being a dumbass, and having to ask someone how I knew which car was mine, (hit the unlock buttom dumbass), I left the rental agreement in the trunk so on exit I literally had to park, open the trunk and retrieve it. I asked the man if he needed additional information from me, to which he replied, "No, but I do need a date to the movies tomorrow night." I laughed, got in my car, and drove away.

When I got to the hotel, checking in was pretty painless and I managed to get a first level room. The only problem with that is that people sometimes come in later, and talk LOUDLY. So loudly in fact, that you think an altercation is going down, and can't resist peeking out your window.

I saw Chris, first, on Saturday. We spent the whole day talking, kissing way too much (you're only allowed to kiss once at hello, and once at goodbye), and holding hands. But I guess it didn't surprise anyone given how we were when we first met. I will say that we finally had the talk, and it was quite painless. We were talking about my cousin to which I said, "B tells me that you guys don't talk about me much anymore."

"No, he doesn't say much about me...you...or us," said Chris.

I gently nudged him with my knee... "So there's an us?"

He started stating all his reasons for not, when I finally told him that we've been through this 500 times blah, blah, blah...still talking as he talks over me and says "Well in my mind there's already an us," Still talking...sudden stop.

"Oh...well um okay..."

So there's an us. Luckily for me "us" only means more frequent phone calls, and dirty letters, and more hugging of a pillow to go to sleep.

I go back February 8th. I literally CANNOT wait.

Giddy

I got the absolute best birthday present yesterday. Due to the careful timing on Chris's part, I got it exactly on my birthday. Due to the uncareful timing of my cousin, I knew something was coming. I had assumed it was the picture we took at my last visit. I was wrong...

As it turned out there was a rose (not a real one, of course) waiting for me, inside of the box. And he called me twice. And he signed the note "love" as opposed to the usual Later.

I'm as giddy as a teenage girl with her first crush

MIA

In all of my relationships, I can honestly say that I have only learned one thing: I'm not afraid of breaking up, I'm not afraid of staying together, I'm afraid of that 60 day lull where things tend to break down.

My former friends used to call me a serial relationship starter. They felt that I would begin a relationship, relishing in it's newness, and once that disappeared, I was off to find another new beginning.

Frequently in my most recent relationships, I would equate the "C" word with the equivalent of being drowned. I always viewed it as if I was "swimming" in my bathtub, in such a way that my back was being supported as I floated, but the water was well above my head. And as I lay there, I can see up through the water, into the room. And it feels as though someone is holding me down, despite my desperate attempts to fight them off from beneath the water.

My initial reaction to this was to run. When it happened again, I vowed to work through it, and was successful, only to have it return later. In that particular instance the old saying was true: Twas better to have loved and lost, than to live with the psycho for the rest of your life. I'm sure anyone would agree.

I don't have that "drowning" feeling right now. But I have a feeling that I've had in every single relationship that makes it out of the honeymoon phase. It appears to me that around the end of the 2nd month mark, men seem to feel as though they need to compensate for all the sweet things they did for a whole whopping 60 days by falling below the radar. They stop calling as frequently, they stop doing sweet things for you as often. Which we all assumed would eventually happen, just not so...suddenly.

So my question is, what are guys doing/thinking/feeling during this time? Does it suddenly creep up on them? Do they just decide that everything is "fine" and they can stop being Mr. Sweet and Romantic? Or is it more like the equivalent of an overdose?

And how does one ignore this time period that feels like the equivalent of my teenage years when I didn't know who I wanted to be, or how to get there? How do you not skitz out, when your boyfriend goes MIA?

But if you can answer one question for me, answer me this: How do you know when it's over and he's not speaking up, and when everything is a-ok?

Peeved

It's quite possible that I have developed the ultimate pet peeve. And the issue that makes me "peeved" to begin with, is one that a lot of people do, probably subconsciously....

I sincerely hate when someone tells you that you can go and do something, and is silently hoping you feel bad, and don't do it. For example, when I was young, probably 9 or 10, I was up the street visiting a friend at her house. It was my mom's birthday. The friend's family was having hot dogs for dinner, (which was no big deal, but I was having fun!) and we were having what I called "the backwards pizza" (which I later came to love, almost right before the only place that made it went out of business) which didn't sound appetizing. I told my friend's mother that it was my mother's birthday. "Oooh," she said. "Shouldn't you go home?" I told her no, and phoned home to get permission to stay. With permission granted, I got hot dogs for dinner. My mother didn't sound the slightest bit irritated on the phone that I would have the audacity to miss her birthday, but by the time I got home, the mistake was made clear to me.

I think often times we say things to people that we "don't mean" and by that I mean the complete opposite of what we really mean. Examples:

When someone asks "What's Wrong?" and we say "Nothing. I'm fine."

Anything that involves the party in question asking "Are you sure?" Be it your boy/girlfriend, mother, MIL, Brother, Sister, Aunt, Cousin etc.

Anything that involves you promising yourself that your feelings won't be hurt/you won't overreact/It won't bother you.

Fact of the matter is, I think too often we mean one thing, and due to fears of seeming needy, or fear of rejection, we hold back. Not only does it make us feel like crap when the other person doesn't get what we really want them to do, and then turns around and says, "But you said....!" It also tends to wedge a hole between the two people involved, both feeling that their feelings are justified, and usually breaking down all communication between the two parties before the demise of the friendship/relationship/speaking terms.

So I offer the following advice:

1. If you like her, say it. If you've gotten to the point where you're considering it, she's probably way ahead of you. Not to mention girls aren't stupid, we know why you're hanging around.

2. If you're just looking for a booty call, say that too. This is the 2000's. Women are just as liberated as men, and would rather have the option of choosing a strings-free relationship than being manipulated. Funny how that works.

3. If you're of the woman variety, and you have feelings for a guy, shut up. It tends to work best as they are potentially slower than molasses in the middle of winter. However, if you've find it's been a decent amount of time (6 months), and Mr. Tortoise hasn't spoken up, it's far better to say something, and be rejected, than to wait around forever. It's also around this time any psychotic tendencies are usually made apparent (if not before).

4. Say what you mean. Don't try to anticipate what the other person wants, and/or needs, and/or is thinking. Trying to do so may be a costly mistake.

5. To deny the facts is not to change the facts. Therefore, if it looks like a relationship, acts like a relationship, and all your friends are calling it a relationship, it is.

This blog was brought to my attention by a particular paragraph in a recent letter, and is not directed at anyone in particular.

The Great Epiphany of 2008

I've realized something today:

The first was part of this crazy work paperwork I have to do for each child. Five days per week we have a form called a "daily" that tells the parents approximate diaper change times, food eaten, and a little excerpt of the child's day. Simultaneously, I have to maintain what's called a "Portfolio" on each of my primary group children. It's a large three-ring binder with sheets called "Observations" and Observations with photos or what's known as Portfolio entries. An Observation is anything the child does that indicates to the teacher that they're progressing in a developmentally appropriate way. Often times it's something funny they do, that they've never done before, and it ends up reading like a story. So if I write a daily about a good, developmentally-appropriate story, I have my observation for the week. My kids sleep for 2 hours (1-3 p.m. roughly), 1/2 of that time is spent on lunch break, and the other 1/2 you write dailies, clean etc. As the day is going by I'm consistently taking little notes of things I've observed the friends doing, but it's considered confidential information so I simply use their initials.

One "friend" has the first name of Kevin, and the last name beginning with a B. I don't know why but as I was jotting down notes for his daily today I wrote KB. To the little God who's laughing his ass off at the irony of that, and calling it a sign, boy do I have a sign for you. :)

The Liberty Bell

I got a very unfortunate letter in the mail today, one that without meaning to, rendered me to tears.

It all began on our North Carolina trip when I had to borrow a pair of sweat pants from my brother (clean, of course) to go on the great Dairy Queen run of 2007. Men's sweat pants are not intended for women, and my pants had just come out of the modified washing machine. Since there was no "modified dryer", wearing the sweat pants was my only option. (Well theoretically I could have gone pantless, but why subject people whom barely know me to that kind of excitement).

His exact comment was that I resembled the Liberty Bell. Which basically implies that I'm old, bell-shaped, and rarely touched, but often stared at.

Surprisingly, I didn't take the comment offensively, not surprisingly, a wrestling match ensued.

So when I made the off-hand comment to someone, I wasn't expecting a response, least of all what I got.

I did what I do, which is to say that I obsessed over the comments and what to do, and here's what I came up with:

I have never had a problem getting boyfriends, attracting guys, or holding my own in a wrestling match or similar. But my weight, and how I look has always been a problem for me. So while I've been working out, have I really been taking notice of what I've achieved, and set realistic goals for myself? And the truth is that working out has become a habit, it's no longer a goal, or something I'm working towards. And if the comment bothered me as badly as it had, enough to offset the good, so I couldn't even acknowledge it fully, then I needed to make some changes. So I've vowed to become more serious about my workouts and to slowly focus on eating better.

And I can honestly say that today, when I looked in the mirror, I was impressed with how far I've come. I still have a long ways to go, but sometimes we need to appreciate where we've come from, not just tunnel vision ourselves into where we're going.

Imagine my embarassment when I re-read the letter, and found out it said nothing like the way I had taken it.

What A Difference A Year Makes...

It's funny how much difference a year makes....

Last year I was dating Mike, a sous chef (less glorious than it sounds by-the-way)at a local restaurant, whom never seemed happy with the "here and now". But as his friend Tony described it, "Mike is like a poker player. He only sees the cards in front of him, never stopping to think about the next hand." A good technique in poker, as you can only deal with the hand you're dealt, but not as much in life, or relationships.

At the time, he was dealing with a psycho ex-girlfriend. And by psycho, I mean that she made Tim's girlfriends look normal. She was forever calling him, flipping out for some unknown reason and causing him to obsess about it like a girl. I guess I can relate because I did the same thing, as if somehow understanding why anyone would act that way, would make the physical action better. The truth was that the acceptance of such behavior only made us their enablers.

It go so bad with this said girl that Mike had to call the police. Unfortunately they were still at Mike's apartment when I arrived, and not knowing me from this girl asked Mike if they needed to handle the situation.

Last New Year's I met him at Nippers (a bar of the non stripper variety), post-midnight to which due to an inappropriate comment about drug use (he was a recovering addict), led me to leave. Funny, I can't even remotely remember what the comment was now.

Ironically enough the first and last night he ever made me dinner was when we broke up. We were watching "The Break Up" with Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Anniston, or at least we started to. I walked out midway through.

Last I heard he was living with the psycho girl, had moved out of his apartment, quit his job for another, and was raising a kid that may not even be his. In fact, he was fairly certain it wasn't.

This year I had a much more laid-back New Year's, but I did get a call from Chris, which of course completely made my night.

So here's to hopefully a successful romance, career choice, move and so much more in 2008!