Hope

After a long marriage and semi-messy divorce, at what point do you consider remarriage and the prospect of having more children?

The subject has come up in general conversation between R and I recently and I find myself feeling pretty ambivalent. My ambivalence is soley based on time - even tho there is no pressure to make any decisions from either of us. I HAVE been separated for a year and 7 months and am over what happened in my marriage to the extent that I am no longer assigning blame and feeling angry or sad. But I am not over the loss of hope that I experienced in my first marriage. That was devastating.

On one hand, the prospect of remarriage and possibly another baby scares the living shit out of me, considering my not-quite-final divorce (I've blogged extensively about the end of my marriage) . The last thing I want is another divorce. Add to that two formerly confused kids, one of which is still so young that the sleepless nights, breast feeding, and poopy diapers of a newborn and the frustrated, non-verbal communications of a howling toddler are still very recent and vivid memories, so the prospect of having a child with someone new holds no romanticized visions of family utopia.

But on the other hand, I have no doubt that I want to remarry. I feel that if your relationship is serious enough to live together with the intention of dealing with all of life's little ups and downs together, that you should be committed enough to each other to want to get married and make it work. And a marriage to someone that is supportive, patient, loving, and affectionate to me AND my girls could be the answer to my secret wishes for a semi-realistic happily-ever-after, and adding a another baby to the mix could just enhance that feeling, instead of detract from it.

I guess time will tell.

After all, hope springs eternal.

Glutton for Punishment

Today, Lauren and Ashlyn are staying home with R, at Lauren's request.

heh heh heh

Of course, I hope this will be a bonding experience for them all, but I still can't help but chuckle because R has never had to play referee for more than say... 2 hours while I ran errands.

He is expecting no problems that he can't handle, and honestly, I don't foresee any problems either because he is a calm and fair guy who is used to dealing with them now, but the constant back and forth of a bossy 8 y/o and a bratty 4 y/o can try the patience of a saint.

In the immortal words of Bugs Bunny...

He don't know them vewy well, do he?

In walks the dog...

There you are, having a nice, quiet Sunday dinner with your in-laws and the minister and his wife... and in walks the dog.

No, that is not my dog or my dildo, but it is a hilarious picture. Thanks to Roger and Ron's blog.

Honestly, I don't really get the suction cup ones... I know how you use it, but I'm really tall and it would seem hard to position right, and there are only certain surfaces it would stick to... or maybe I'm just lazy.

Besides, it doesn't vibrate, so it's just another unemotional dick, am I right?

And yes, a situation similar to the above, if not as publicly horrifying, has happened to me.

Of course it has! It is ME we are talking about!

A couple of years ago, I was in the bathroom attached to the master bedroom doing girly stuff (plucking my eyebrows, if you really must know.)

In runs my then-2-year-old, Ashlyn, waving something around like a sword, yelling "Hiiiiii yaaaah!!! Mommy, I a pirate!!"

What, exactly, was my blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel waving around, you ask?

My VIBRATOR that I had left in my partially-open nightstand drawer after indulging in a little self pleasure the night before.

I have never snatched something out of my children's hands so quickly... not even steak knives.

The only ones who speak the truth are children and fools

This weekend was great. My two rugrats were home, so, R and the girls and I hung out and watched tv and made cookies and painted our fingernails and toenails hot pink (well, not R).

On Friday, the girls got some miniature Barbies in their Happy Meals and as soon as they got home, they had to find a male doll of equal size to play the boyfriend/hero/stinky-boy harrasser role. They found Mr. Incredible, aka Bob. R was quickly elected to play Bob. But mass confusion ensued when R chose to use Ralph as his name (said in a hero voice, of course), not Bob. "His name isn't Ralph, it's Bob!" echoed the chorus of giggling voices. After trading a few barbs, Ralph then proceeded to unceremoniously punch Fairy Princess Magical Pegasus Barbie in the face, thereby defeating her magical powers. (Ralph was playing the stinky-boy harrasser role this time.) Baaaad Ralph.

On Sunday, my little angels got into a waterfight while they were playing outside with a little neighbor girl (it was really hot) and drenched the house carrying water in and out, AND they ate what I was planning to have for dinner for a 'snack,' so they are grounded from tv and playing outside for the rest of yesterday and today. The bad thing about punishment is that it punishes the parents too, because you have taken away their normal modes of entertainment, which leads to much whining and squabbling. Sigh...

The most amusing part of the weekend occured on Saturday while I was sitting at the computer desk in our family room, surfing the web with R and Ashlyn sitting on the couch a couple feet away and Lauren standing behind me. I was on Yahoo's homepage, and there was a picture of Michael Jackson that accompanied an article dicussing how he was buying a home in Bahrain and planning to move there. Here is our conversation:

Lauren: Who is that?
Me: Michael Jackson
L: That's Michael Jackson?!
M: Yup. (chuckling)
L: He looks like a girl!
M and R: laughing out loud
L: And I thought he was black!
M and R: laughing uncontrollably
(I then proceed to google Michael Jackson's images to show her the differences.)
L (totally incredulous): I can't wait to tell all my friends what Michael Jackson really looks like!

Sometimes, an eight-year-old can show the wisdom of the ages.

Feminist Humor

Gotta love it!

Friday I'm in love....

Yes, I am in love. I am in love with a chick leaving my job, because today we are having a farewell breakfast with fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts! YAY! Oh, and I love my boyfriend, my daughters, my family and my friends too, of course. But they are secondary to my Krispy Kreme and coffee orgasmic bliss right now. I'll think about them later.

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I actually don't feel guilty blogging at work right now because I am LOCKED OUT of the network drive where my documents are stored. Why? I have no friggin' clue. It was fine yesterday, and my co-worker is able to access the drive today, but not me. So I will blog and read other blogs and read the news until my IT problem is solved by the IT guy who is never at his desk. Gee, what a shame.

I'm leaving work a couple hours early today anyway because both my girls have an eye check up.

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Speaking of an eye check up, my oldest daughter has the same condition in her left eye, amblyopia, that I do. She has to wear glasses and a patch for a couple hours a day when she is at home to force her brain to use her left eye correctly. So far, she has taken the news in stride, because she thinks it's cool to wear glasses like her mom. But we shall see when she starts third grade.

My youngest daughter has an eye appointment today too. I always find these kinda funny on young kids because they can't READ an eye chart. The doctors try to use symbols on eye charts for young children, but that is hit or miss, too. So her appointment ought to be interesting.

When I was little, I HATED my glasses. I've had them since I was old enough to wear them, so for about 30 1/2 years. I hid my glasses in trees, I buried them, and once I even hid them in the neighbor's dog house. My poor mother could be seen walking around the housing complex on Ft Bragg, me in tow, about once a week asking "Do you remember if you played here? Did you take them off here?" And I would feign innocence and pretend that I had honestly lost my glasses and had no earthly idea where they were, when I secretly knew they were stuck in some tree. Of couse, by that time, I really didn't have a clue which tree they were in anymore.

This is when I perfected my "who... me?!?!" expression of indignation and incredulity.

It has served me well.

Elementary, Dear Watson!

This photo warning people what NOT to do in the London subway system is fucking great.

Too bad the guy was Brazillian and had nothing to do with the bombings, but you should NEVER act like a stupid asshole during a crisis who doesn't follow police direction and starts RUNNING, with a BACKPACK wearing a HEAVY COAT in JULY onto the London subways that were bombed by terrorists a few days earlier.

Hopefully a quintuple tap to the head will serve as enough warning for any other dumb asses with a bad attitude around the subways.

Take heed, because the London police ain't fucking around!

I think he should be nominated for the Darwin Awards.

Players only loooove you when they're plaaaaying

The original post title for this was "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday" - gotta love the Stones. But have you ever tried thinking of song lyrics for every day of the week? I'm okay with Monday and Friday - those are nice, vague lyrics. Tuesday... well, it's morning and I am not encrusted in gems, so the 'Goodbye Ruby' part of that title seems kind of bizarre. I am seriously fucked for Wednesday and Thursday, unless I choose the days of the week descriptions from "Friday I'm In Love," and I certainly don't want my heart broken today or tomorrow according to those lyrics (look it up, non-Cure fan losers), so I find myself in a quandry. Argh

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So, as you can probably tell from the nonsensical bullshit about song lyrics stated above, I have been very scattered the last couple of days. Everything is a tangent. Heeellooooo ADHD. I started 2 posts yesterday and didn't finish/post them because *surprise* they make no sense.

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My weekend was very good. Saturday was spent sleeping late, then just chillin' with R, my man, all day. Sunday we slept late again, then hung out and got ready and went to dinner with Trelina and Russ, my bestest bud and her hubby. This sounds dorky, but when you are part of a couple, it's always nice to have another couple with whom to hang out and chill. We went to La Palapa in historic Ellicot City - it was very cool.

And I have been a bad friend since R got home from school and have been ignoring my friends because I prefer to spend most of my time with him, so it was nice for ALL of us to get out of the house, get liquored up and chow down.

We all had a great time, I think, and my faith in humanity was renewed. :)

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Speaking of R, things between he and I are going really well the majority of the time, which kind of surprises both of us, honestly, because we are around each other ALL THE TIME. I thought we would be sick of each other and the lack of privacy by now since we've been living together for 6 months, but we are both still eager to see each other every day. It's a nice feeling.

Our main problem with each other lies with other people. Other women he is/was involved with in my case, and other men I am/was involved with in his case.

I'm usually not the jealous type, but considering his past involvements WHILE he was dating me (allbeit long distance dating, so I have to cut him some slack there) I have some trust issues with him. From my point of view (because this is MY blog, dammit), he keeps in touch with so many women, alot of whom like him as more than a friend, that I feel like I'm part of a harem. What unsettles me the most is that sometimes I feel like if he and I were to split up, he would just roll right out of bed with me and into the next girl's bed, with no second thoughts or regrets. I mean, doesn't EVERYONE want to feel like they have more impact in their lover's life than that?

I reeeeaaaally don't like feeling insecure. I never really have before, so this is a new and unwelcome feeling. This is going to make me sound conceited, but in all my previous relationships, I always felt very very sure of the guy's feelings for me, and in most cases, that their feelings for me were stronger than my feelings for them. Which is just the way I liked it - in control. I always felt like I could walk away, no harm, no foul (at least to myself) and I always did.

I can think of three guys I dated (including recycled boyfriend and R.) that I didn't feel so secure with, and guess what? Those are the guys I liked/loved the most. In hindsight, I think I liked the challenge of trying to win them over and proving I was cooler, sweeter, and sexier than any other woman that was vying for their attention. I guess this is where competitiveness rears it's ugly head in my life. I'm not competitive in most things - sports, games, jobs, whatever. But in the game of love, I loooove to WIN.

For example, the weekend after I found out that R was cheating on me in Texas, he was due to fly into B-more for Thanksgiving. So what did I do? Pull the pathetic victim and meet him in tears? Noooooo. I met him at the airport in a tight sweater, wrap-around miniskirt, thigh high stockings, high heels, and no panties. I greeted him cooly at the security gate, we walked out to the parking garage, loaded his bag, and got in the car. Then I took his hand and slid it up my thigh to my freshly shaved kitty while I looked him in the eye and slowly smiled. His reaction? Instant arousal along with 'Holy shit, this girl is cool!' My thought process on this? 'I'll show him who to be begging to fuck, and it won't be some whiney, crying little bitch in Texas.' Needless to say, we didn't make it home for a loooong time, and I live 10 minutes from the airport.

You can't fuck with me, bitches, so don't even try.

Little things I like and dislike about men

Like a lot of women, I love lists. I make to do lists, bill lists, party lists, decorating lists... you name it.

So here is a list of things little things I find attractive, or not, in men:

Quirky Ons:
Facial hair, especially a nice goatee.
Hair on the chest and on the belly.
Nice ass, especially in jeans.
Tight legs.
Broad shoulders.
Short hair.
Men in uniform - i.e., military, cops, and firemen.
A guy who dances even though he knows he stinks at it but has a good time anyway.
Bedhead.
Banter and wit.
Intelligence.
Acknowledging that I am just as smart or smarter than he is.
Drinking a beer from the bottle.
Nice fingernails - doesn't have to be a manicure, just short and clean.
Someone who will shake my hand and look me in the eye like I’m an equal, not just a chick.
Manners.
Bald or shaved head, especially with a goatee.
Good cook.
Tattoos.
Deep voices.
Musky, spicy cologne.
Accents.
Worldly.
Open minded.
Says my name. A lot.
Tells me they are impressed by something I do or know and means it. Not saying it to just try and get in my pants.
Thinks about what I want in bed.

Quirky offs:
Guys who have long fingernails. (ouch!)
Bad skin.
Floral or soapy cologne.
Too much cologne.
Insincere compliments.
Treating me like I’m fragile or stupid.
Talking to me like I couldn’t possibly understand what you’re discussing.
Chain smoking. (Smoking while drinking is ok)
Being late without a phone call.
Dominating the conversation.
Telling me I shouldn’t curse so much because I’m a girl. (Fuck you!)
Telling me what to do, period.
Being too concerned about how he looks or what he’s wearing.
Patting my back or shoulders during hugs or affection - I feel like I'm being dismissed.
Unkempt hair.
Dirty hands.
No table manners.
Ignorance.
Close-mindedness.
Religious zealot.
Wears shirts with holes and stains out.

Ideas courtesy of Great Googly Moogly and Andie Pandie.

Another reason I'm not a screamer

Amorous couple sparks rescue drama
Jul 27, 8:23 AM (ET)

LONDON (Reuters) - A British couple who headed out to sea in a dinghy for an amorous liaison sparked a major rescue operation when their cries of passion were mistaken for someone in trouble, British police said Tuesday.

A passer-by raised the alarm after hearing strange noises coming from the waters near a beach in Torbay on the southwest coast of England Saturday morning, prompting the coastguard to send lifeboats and police to the scene.

"It was found that there was a partially-clothed couple in a small rubber dingy that were brought ashore and asked to put their clothes back on."

Now, I'm not one to throw big fucking rocks in tiny little glass houses because, hey, I've been busted by the cops while I was half naked, too (and yeah, it was the bottom half) .

Oh yeah, and try speedily putting on and pulling up your jeans that are fashionably full of holes in the miniscule area of the front seat of a Chevy Z24 while you are sweaty and a cop is standing outside the car, tapping his flashlight on your window... there is no 'speed' about it.

And Hi, the cop said my name was familiar to him. It was for one of three reasons - none of which are exactly 'good' scenarios. Those three reasons were:

1. I was the long-time (ex) girlfriend of a fellow officer. (embarrassing)
2. His police department had offered me a scholarship (I was in college at the time). (really embarrassing)
3. I had testified against another fellow officer in a rape case. (revenge, anyone?)

Notice none of them involve me and criminal stuff, because even tho I may be stupid, I am law abiding. Except when it comes to parking. And sneaking food into the movie theater.

But at least I wasn't so incoherent/loud that they sent out a rescue crew.

My dad the comedian

(My father is coming to visit in September and I spoke with him for about an hour on the phone yesterday, so this lead me to reflect on my father.)

What can I say about my dad? For most of my life, he was an enigma. To say that he wasn't around much during my childhood is an understatement, but it wasn't because he was some drunken lout that was always out womanizing. It was because he was active duty Army in Psychological Operations, so he was always deployed with Special Forces, busting his ass for Uncle Sam. In a nutshell, he's a man who worked hard and provided for his wife and family his entire life.

But since he retired last year, overcame cancer, split with my mom and moved into a studio apartment, I am discovering my father as a person. Oh, I have seen glimpses of him in the past 32 years, and even more since I moved out of the house and became an adult, but in truth, I didn't see much beyond a husband, father, and soldier/security expert.

(Side note on my naivete as a child: I had no idea that my dad had an actual occupation in the Army for 21 years until I was a senior in high school. I have specific memories of taking dinner to him at work when he worked swing shifts, but I really just thought a soldier was a soldier was a soldier and ALL soldiers worked in basements with crytpo locks and an MP guarding a thick steel door. One day, a gung-ho JROTC guy in my history class asked me what my dad did in the Army. I kinda gave the guy a blank stare then brightened up and recited a saying from a unit t-shirt my dad had that read "Bang Bang, can you hang with the 1st PsyOps Battalion. First with the Finest." - of course, the only reason I remember that t-shirt is because it had a charicature of a bulldog with a cowboy hat on it, which I always thought was odd, but that is beside the point. Anyway, the gung-ho guy went completely apeshit when he found out my dad was in PsyOps and started asking where he was stationed and what he did, etc. I found myself to be a minor celebrity with this guy for a while because he followed me around and asked me questions, like the JROTC version of the papparazi. )

Outside of work, my father has never really been a football and beer on Sundays type of guy, but has always been interested in more intellectual/hobbyist pursuits. His hobbies over the years have included Dungeons and Dragons, leatherworking, wire jewelry making, photography, N-scale trains, writing sci-fi novels, racing RC cars, reading sci-fi/fantasy, and the ever present computer and RPG games - my 60 year old dad has a desk top, a lap top, an X-box, and a Gameboy. I was always involved with his hobbies and worked on/made projects with him, which I always found extremely enjoyable especially since my mom and sister weren't really interested in what we were doing - it was just quality time for me and my dad. My sister always enjoyed the computer games, so that was their bonding time.

The aspect I have enjoyed the most about him in the last few years tho, is his sense of humor. Everytime we talk on the phone, we always trade jokes. He loves blonde jokes.

Favorite blonde joke:
Q: What do you call a dead blonde in a closet?
A: Last year's hide and seek contest winner.

And he comes up with monikers for everything.

Favorite food monikers:
Biscuit Surprise and Adventures in Succotash (I'll leave you to wonder on those.)

The story behind my all-time favorite moniker:
Last year, he was forced to medically retire, then he was diagnosed with cancer, all on top of finding out about my mom having an affair. So in effect, he lost his job, his financial security, his health and his marriage all in the period of 2 months. After his cancer diagnosis, my sister and I were devastated and I, for one, was scared to talk to him because I didn't want to break down and cry on the phone and upset him further. So when I finally talked to him that evening, he was joking with me, trying to cheer me up. He started laughing and when I asked what he was laughing about he said, "I just figured out my new nick name... the ANTI-LOTTERY WINNER!!"

We both dissolved in giggles.

Twisted bastard.

How I love him so.

Odd smells in the office

There is this lady I work with, I'll call her Chief, that owns an organic farm with her husband. They only raise animals, but they network/barter/trade with all the other local farmers.

Every week, she brings in about 20 dozen organic eggs for all her co-workers to buy. We all snatch them up because they are gorgeous large brown eggs with rich yolks that even still have hay on them. My girls love helping me cook with them.

But this week, she has brought in produce. Zuchinni, summer squash, green beans, and cabbage. Yummy to be sure, but remember, she's an ORGANIC farmer and so are all the other local farmers.

So today, there is a slight smell permeating our little warren of cubicles. One of cabbage and... manure.

Breakfast anyone?

Quiz results

What is your Magick Path?
DRUIDIC - You have to live close to nature to
survive. You dream magick. In the deep woods
you gather, bringing together mysticism and
philosophy, insight and learning. Your spirit
emerges from the the tides of the sea, the
light of the sun, the wind in the Oak, the cry
of the deer.

*Yeah - I LOOOOVE the bleating cry of the deer when they run into the side of my car and break of my side-view mirror and dent my trim. Grrrr*

What animal spirit lives inside of you?

Fox
In you the spirit of the fox lives.The fox is very smart and thoughtful. He is concentrated in hunting its food and always seems to plan 10 steps ahead.So do you.You are a hard-working, concentrated and focused, smart person which plans ahead and has everything under control.But hey, you are not a fox living in the woods.Try to let loose sometimes and have fun.You live just once...Maybe...

Does this mean I'm foxy? Or that I have a pointy nose?

Panda Craze - Level 23

So I saw that someone reached my blog thru Google search results looking for hints on Level 23 for Panda Craze. Someone else got stuck too! Now I don't feel like a dumbass!

(Skip this post if you don't play Panda Craze.)

I was stuck on that damn level for DAYS, trying to figure out the sequence of blowing up dirt piles while trying to avoid that stupid zookeeper... and FINALLY I figured it out! So, I will try to explain it here:

What NOT to do:
Don't even bother trying to blow up all the dirt in the two different piles and hop on the carpet, expecting to make it to the ladder on the far side of the screen all in one fell swoop - your panda will croak because either the zookeeper gets in the way or the dirt reappears, thereby trapping you. (I tried this OVER AND OVER again, and you just don't have enough time.)

What you SHOULD do:
The key here is moving the carpet from that first dirt formation on the left to the second dirt formation on the right - it will be trapped there when the dirt reappears. This gives you the time you need to trap/blowup the zookeeper again and blow up the right side of the right dirt hunk to hop down onto the carpet and ride over to the ladder.

Here are step by step instructions:

1. Blow up the zookeeper, grab the lantern and bombs when you go down the ladder.
2. Run over and get the other lantern on the left (and pick up two more bombs), then dig a hole and trap the zookeeper and stand on his head til he dies.
3. Blow up the far right corner of the left dirt mound and the far left corner of the right dirt mound. The carpet will move to the right dirt mound.
4. After the dirt reappears and you trap the zookeeper again, blow up the far right corner of the right dirt mound while you hang from the vines on the right.
5. Hop down onto the carpet when it floats under you (DON'T MISS and DON'T FALL OFF) and ride it all the way over to the ladder.
6. Climb the ladder, dig your way down and collect the rest of the lanterns. The gate appears at the top of where those lanterns are.
7. Climb the ladder again, dig left and hop down into the gate.

Voila! Level 24 and 25 aren't that difficult. 25 is the last level.

Have fun and good luck!

Lessons from London

WE'RE NOT AFRAID

A totally awesome website has been created to say a great big FUCK YOU to terrorists - okay, it doesn't say Fuck you, it says We're Not Afraid!

This speaks more to me than the whole God Bless America thing that happened here on 9/11. Not that it wasn't (and still is) a great sentiment, but it was unoriginal.

ROCK ON, London!

ICE ICE BABY

Since the bombings in London, there is a new cell phone initiative to help fire/rescue/police contact your next-of-kin. It's called ICE and stands for In Case of Emergency.

To its owner, the cell phone is an indispensable lifeline at times of crisis, reuniting loved ones separated by unforeseen events at the touch of a button. But for members of the emergency services making life-and-death decisions, the cell poses a conundrum: Which of the numbers stored in its electronic address book should they call to reach a casualty's next of kin?

Now a simple initiative, conceived by a paramedic in Britain, has gained momentum on both sides of the Atlantic to try to solve this problem. Cell users are being urged to put the acronym ICE -- "in case of emergency" -- before the names of the people they want to designate as next of kin in their cell address book, creating entries such as "ICE -- Dad" or "ICE -- Alison."

At least two police forces in the United States are considering the idea, according to the initiative's British-based promoters, who say there has been a flurry of interest since the recent bombings in London.

Paramedics, police and firefighters often waste valuable time trying to figure out which name in a cell phone to call when disaster strikes, according to current and retired members of the emergency services, who said they must look through wallets for clues, or scroll through cell address books and guess. Many people identify their spouse by name in their cell, making them indistinguishable from other entries.

"Sometimes dialing the number for 'Mum' or 'Dad' might not be appropriate, particularly if they are elderly, suffer from ill health or Alzheimer's," said Matthew Ware, a spokesman for the East Anglian Ambulance service, which is promoting the ICE initiative. "This would give paramedics a way of getting hold of the appropriate person in a few seconds."

(You can read read the whole article here.)

Makes sense to me, and makes me wonder why nobody thought of it sooner. Necessity is the mother of invention, I guess.

Case in point, when I was in a pretty serious car accident a few weeks ago, if I had been unconcious, the paramedics/state troopers would have gone thru my phone and seen my mom and dad's numbers and contacted them, but they wouldn't have known who to contact locally to meet me at the hospital because my man, like the article says, is listed by his first name.

So now I have designated all my emergency contacts - my man, and my mom, dad, and sister with ICE (in capital letters) next to their names in my contact list so, just in case, the right people will be contacted immediately.

Take care of yourselves and your loved ones. If tragedy strikes, don't keep them waiting and wondering - it is the worst kind of torture.

Sometimes even a bad answer is better than no answer at all.

Monday Monday la la la la la la

Well, it's another Monday. Another day in the neverending cycle of home-work-errands-home. I wish I weren't a grown-up sometimes. No bills, no car accidents, no major responsibilites... I would miss the few things I enjoy - drinking, driving and sex (not in that order, mind you).

The only thing I got really stressed about in my childhood years (that I was concious of, anyway) was grades. And boy, did grades stress me out when I was still young and eager to please. (That eagerness came to an abrupt halt in high school for various reasons.) I don't know why I was so afraid to disappoint my parents - I guess every kid is when they are young and their parents' approval still means everything to them. My sister was always very ambitious in school and always had straight A's, so the pressure to keep up was on.

I was such a nerd. I used to have nightmares about unfinished school projects during the summer. In fact, I actually contemplated running away in 7th grade because I was going to get a "C" in Home Economics due to the fact that I was so anal, all my projects were turned in late.

Oh, if that were my worst problem now... I would be a happy, happy girl.

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Weekend update - ended up not doing a damn thing. It was POURING all day on Saturday, and the fairgrounds were acres and acres of complete muck on Sunday, so I ended up cancelling my cultural plans of going to the PowWow. Boooo I was actualy looking forward to that.

Had a really nice weekend with my man tho. We just stayed home and hung out and watched movies and talked and ate... it was a very relaxing weekend.

I find my cooking repertoire is expanding and going back to my roots at the same time in cooking for my man. My ex-husband always wanted chicken and pasta and pizza. That was about all I cooked for 9 years, except for an occasional break with fish here and there. He generally didn't eat pork and I wasn't good at cooking beef products, so chicken it was.

Now I find myself making the dishes my mom made growing up, because my man is from the South, too, but he also likes Mexican and Italian. So in the past few weeks, I've made fried chicken, chicken fried steak, chicken and dumplings - the biscuit kind (which I don't really dig on, but my man and the rugrats love it) , pork chops, enchiladas, white chicken chili, and various other dishes. I'm learning what cuts of beef are used for what dishes (because chicken is chicken, pretty much, so that was always easy). I've even learned how to make gravy from scratch.

(Dre - if you are reading this, I can hook you up with a good recipe for the fried chicken if you haven't found one - it's from my grandmother. And I still remember the fried chicken experiments at your old house. Boy, were we dumb. LOL)

All this fried stuff with gravy makes me sound like I must be big as a house, doesn't it? Well, for your information, I haven't gained a pound. In fact I've lost a few. Moderation is key, here, folks. But my cholesterol must be sky high. heh heh heh Oh well. Can't have everything.

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Blog design note - blog still looks the same, but the archives weren't updating and links weren't working, so they are now fixed. Yay!

Medical mysteries

Had a few medical things going on in my immediate family. My mom had some abnormalities show up on an ultrasound, with her kidneys and uterus, so she had an MRI and CT scan this week, but doesn't know the results yet. The good thing is that she feels fine - no lethargy or loss of appetite, etc., so hopefully these things are fluke abnormalities that are easily treatable.

The other thing is that my 4 year old, Ashlyn, needs surgery. Poor little pumpkin. She has a benign tumor in her cheek called a subepidermal calcified nodule that needs to be removed. Luckily, the tumor doesn't interfere with the physiology of her ear or parotid gland or facial nerves YET, but it could if the tumor is allowed to stay and continue to grow. Luckily, it is slow growing and is painless, but it needs to be removed so it won't cause any problems in the future.

She has a consultation with a pediatric plastic surgeon scheduled, then the surgery will be scheduled from there. It's a same day procedure, but she will have to be under general anesthesia because she's 4 and the surgeon can't take the chance of her moving during the surgery. I hate the thought of her going under the knife, even for something minor. :(

All I have to say is... thank god/dess for bubblegum flavored Children's Motrin. That is the only medicine she will take voluntarily. All other medications involve crying, screaming, kicking feet and ultimately, projectile vomitting. Linda Blair has NOTHING on my darling daughters, trust me.

Are you sure all you as-of-yet childless couples really WANT children? Yes, they are wonderful and hearing them laugh and watching them grow and discover the wonders of the world around them is truly magical... but jeez!

You don't know what 'worry' is until you have a child.

Friday Friday Friday!

Yes, I know I have been a big fat blog slacker this week. I have honestly been bored out of my skull and had nothing worthwhile to say.

The bad news: I have already read all my daily blog reads AND all the headlines AND I finished Panda Craze! So what the hell am I going to do all day? Actually work, you say? Bah!

The good news: there is a world of blogs out there that I have yet to discover. I'll find something to read to fill my day!

********************

Weekend plans:

After nookie and sleeping late, I actually DO have cultural plans for this weekend - there is a PowWow being held here, so my man and I are taking the girls to introduce them to a little of their long-lost heritage. There will be singing and dancing and merriment had by all, hopefully.


Have I ever mentioned on here that my man is Native American? Well, he is. And quite handsome, too. He grew up in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, the capital of the Cherokee Nation. Cool, hunh?

Plans for Labor Day weekend (I usually don't plan this far ahead, but this is a special case):

My dad is coming to visit! Yay! During the Renn Fest!! Double Yay! I love the Renn Fest! So does my dad! So do the girls! Rob has yet to go, so I will be popping his Renn Fest cherry this year. Yay again!

Or should I say 'huzzah'!

Best of Craigslist

Ok, it's Monday. And since it isn't Friday, I have absolutely nothing clever or witty or original to say.

I just want to go home and go to sleep (maybe get some nookie first, tho).

Anyway, since I have nothing original to say, I will paste stuff here from the Best of Craigslist that I find amusing, but that I didn't write myself. See... I am clever if not original today! Yay me!

An ad for a haunted toaster in Minneapolis:

Free white toaster that I think is haunted. My husband got it when his friend died, and I think his friend decided to hang around. His friend doesn't really like me, and likes to burn the toast. I got a new toaster, so I want to get rid of this one. If nobody wants it, though, I'm going to drop it off the roof.

Rave for Moe's and Joe's - a bar in Atlanta

What the hell gives you the right to serve delicious PBR until two in the morning for the low low price of 3.25/pitcher while simultaneously packing your homely little watering hole with young hotties? Its as if you've looked deep within my soul and discovered I have a serious problem controlling myself around these two things, then decided to make both of them readily accessible to the point of obsenity when I have to work in the morning. Fuck you Moe's and Joe's.

Pitchers #1 & 2: I arrive fashionably late. Meet up with 5 friends of mine. Small talk. Game 6. Go Pistons.

Pitcher #3: I introduce myself to friend's date. She looks like Jewel without the snaggle tooth. I remind myself this is my friend's date and I should keep Jewel fetish to myself.

Pitcher #4: Buddies and I spot woman who seems to be bestowed with the finest ass God has ever created. She is unfortunately surrounded by balding 30ish dudes and even worse, enjoying their attention. (If I was the bitter type, this is where I'd join the bandwagon and complain about Atlanta women being heartless golddiggers. However, I realize that at some point I will probably be 30ish, balding and still single. However I'll most likely be making more money than I currently do and it will be then that women like her will be attainable. For now, I'll just bide my time.)

Pitcher# 5: Jewel strikes up converstation with me while buddy is in bathroom. Asks me where I went to school, what I do, yadda yadda.... she's so hot. Cannot get 'Who Will Save Your Soul' out of my head. She can save mine any day. And by save my soul I obviously mean make sweet, sweet love to me in the back of the volkswagon van she is living out of while struggling to make it as a folk musician. Whoa... lost myself there for a second. Buddy comes back and Jewel seems to be ignoring buddy. Fuck. I mention something buddy does to remove myself from no-win situation and shift her focus back to him. Realize having a conscious is totally overrated.

Pitcher# 6: Pistons win and I give a fist pound to token thugged out black dude in booth behind me. Huge ass zircon ring cuts my knuckle wide open and I make a small sceen as I walk/bleed my way to the bar for medicinal beverage napkins. Thugged out black dude complains about the "white boy dat bleed on my bling". One buddy excuses himself because he "has to wake up early in the morning for work." I remind myself I have to do the same and should probably get going soon. I also taunt buddy for being a "raging pussy".

Pitcher# 7: I demand to know why bartender won't sell me pitcher# 8 with #7 because, goddamnit I have $6.50 burning a hole in my pocket and my friends are thirsty. Poor bartender repeatedly explains to me that ass crowded bar means not a whole lot of available pitchers and I am not the only one in the bar drinking. Fact that world does not revolve around me seems foreign and frustrating.

Pitcher# 8: Papa Roach song comes on the Jukebox and I loudly demand to know who in their right mind would play such a musical pile of dog shit. After a few minutes of ranting, I meet cute girl who hates shitty band as much as I do. 2 minutes into our Papa Roach bashing it becomes clear cute girl has even cuter moustache. Hate my luck as I always seem to have a chance with a cute girl with a major defect. Remind myself that I'm no longer in college and that I will regret taking her home.

Pitcher# 9: Jewel and buddy leave. I stand up on the seat of my booth and politely remind everybody at the bar that its a school night and they should probably start heading home just like my 2 "worthless friends". I've just been told by email that I also asked them to "fuck their mothers for me" while they're at it. (This probably scored me no points with Jewel in the event that she chooses to dump my buddy) Medicinal beverage napkins have fallen off and I am aware, but ambivalent to the fact that I am bleeding on my favorite t-shirt. I tell my 2 remaing friends I'm going to walk home. After this pitcher, of course. They berate me for all of 5 seconds before I give in and agree to stay.

Pitcher# 10: I challenge my 2 remaining (and jobless) friends to a game of quarters. Only to celebrate our 10th pitcher of the night I suggest we use dimes. I bring two quarters to the bar and ask for 5 dimes. Bartender hates me. I tip him 2 dimes for the exchange. Bartender hates me even more. Playing quarters with dimes not nearly as fun. Switch back to using quarters and destroy my friends. However, I do lose the game in which we've bet that the loser has to go and talk to amazing-ass-girl.

Pitcher# 11: I agree to bet on the grounds I don't have to pay for last pitcher. Friends agree. Walk over towards amazing ass girl feels incredibly slow. I cannot tell whether this is because her ass has me locked in its hypnotic tractor beam or because the gallon of beer I've drank so far probably has my BAC hovering around .25. I squeeze in between the 3 potbellied 30 somethings surrounding her and lean against the bar as I look her square in the eye. Her gaze meets mine and I am slightly disappointed at my first good look at her face. I tell her so. This apparently makes me an asshole and largest 30 something kindly informs me that I'll have to "move my skinny ass before he runs it over". I ask him whether or not that meant he mistook me for a homosexual and that I'm flattered, but not gay. 2 remaining (jobless, but caring) friends take it upon themselves to escort me home. I am disappointed because large 30 something and I had so much to talk about.

Zig zag my way home and wake up fully clothed. Awesome.

So now I'm sitting at my desk. Its almost noon and the 800 pound gorilla playing the cymbals in my head has not stopped since 7am. My farts smell like limburger and death. I've nodded off twice. Thank you Moe's and Joe's. Thank you for nothing.

See you next Tuesday.

That one was long... but funny. I have done an approximation of the same, but with tequila, not beer. I can't drink that much beer without yakking. Something about the carbonation. Blech.

Mmmm... lard

It's 4 o'clock, Friday at work. I'm just trying to kill the next hour so I can go sit in rushhour traffic and pickup the rugrats.

A preface to the following shameful confession:
I am a dippy person (insert your hyuck hyuck airhead jokes here all you want, you boorish non-blogging fops) - i.e. I love food that you can dip, plus I love various kinds of dip. Pita and hummus, chips and cheese, quesadillas and guacamole, crackers and peanut butter, fruit and Fluff (try it - it rocks! Plus you get the added bonus of a double sugar high - sucrose and fructose! Woohoo!) and don't get me started with fondue. Yum yum good.

So right now I have the munchies and limited access to snackies because our kitchen and our business park suck moldy ass.

But I have sunk to a new low.

I am currently dipping Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream potato chips into Philadelphia Whipped Cream Cheese with Chives. It will cause my ass to grow, my face to get little zits, and my keyboard (fuck it - it isn't mine) to be even more sticky because I am typing as I eat, and it will give me extremely funky breath that I doubt even Altoids could burn thru (with their hydro-chloric acid disguised as peppermint oil and confectioner's sugar. No wonder it's curiously strong!). The chips are flimsy so I am having to pick out and eat the chip shrapnel from the container of cream cheese with a slightly-more-sturdy plastic spoon... and oh, yeah, I'm drinking a luke-warm cherry coke... but it is soooo good! Mmmmmm.

Ahh... I can feel my arteries clogging now!

Search hits on my blog

Recent Google searches that led to my blog:

1. "mermaid tattoo" porn - whaaa? two different posts, so whoever it was searching for it is disappointed. heh heh heh

2. boyfriend "his manic depression" - wrong guy

3. comet astrology - ah, the Russian kook post

4. masturbated - of all the GAZILLION sites that have that word on it, how did my blog make it on that list? It must have been search page 2,367 - that person had ALOT of time on their hands. Or hand... ewww - I won't go there.

Okay, Mrs. Bossy! :)

A request has been made to update my blog more frequently so as to keep my friends amused thru-out the workday.

My answer to this is... if only I were that loquacious and clever, I could rule the world! Like President Bush! (No wait a minute... ) Like Al Gore! (No... not him either.) President Clinton? (Yeah, I think he would work. He talked his ass out of many many things.)

Anway, I really do try to update when I can, but don't for the following reasons:

- My panda is trapped by the zookeeper (as compared to the kitty being trapped by the zookeeper... TOTALLY different game, and I don't know if I would refer to my honey as a zookeeper because that alludes to me being a zoo or jungle or something, which, I can assure you is not the case hygiene wise. Tiger in the bedroom ala My Big Fat Greek Wedding... maybe!)

- I have to pretend like I am actually working because someone walked behind my desk

- I am tired of posting stupid quiz results (I am a quiz snob and find very few of them to be original or funny)

- I just can't handle the pressure from my adoring public! All 6 of you! Like Britney Spears! (Minus the greaseball husband and bun in the oven).

- I can think of absolutely ZERO clever things to say (unless it's Friday - I am always in a good and, therefore, blabbermouth mood on Friday. And today is your lucky day, BEEYOTCHES!!)

No, my real answer is... read OTHER people's blogs besides mine. There is a PLETHORA of highly entertaining blogs out there - I've linked to a few on the right (Kristy in San Fran is HIGHLY funny for all the females out there). The good news: you feel like you know someone, when you really don't know them from Adam (or Eve). The bad news is: the blog author will think you are a creepy lurker if you don't leave comments to acknowledge their existance. So LEAVE COMMENTS, people! Blog authors love comments! It makes us feel special. :)

Ya know some people have even gotten book deals from their blogs?! If only...

*********************

Update on Anysoldier.com:

I emailed the webmaster (and father of the soldier who started the site) and he said thanks for the support, and the number one thing they need is to get the word out.

(Side bar: I read my email AFTER I hit send and realized I had made a few egregious typos and even tho the email was thoughtful and well written syntax-wise, the guy must think I am an idiot because it looks like I can't spell or that English is not my first language. Which it is. I mean, I'm a writer, for chrissake! I hate that.)

So I then emailed the morning shows of three local radio stations (Mix 106.5, Mix 107.3 and Z104) directed them to the www.anysoldier.com website and asked them to please do a PSA on them, since they are non-profit and locally run.

Hopefully they will check out the site and be as moved by it as I am and say something on air and attract more traffic to the site. I have even added their banner on the right there - Freedom isn't free... just ask any soldier.

Yes, Drill Sergeant!

Petco rocks!

In regards to my post yesterday about supporting our troops thru www.anysoldier.com , I emailed the Petco Foundation and asked them if they would be interested in donating items to support the military working dogs that are deployed with the troops.

Well, they already emailed me back and said they would check into it and that it sounded like a great opportunity! Of course, this is no guarantee that they will do anything... but at least they responded in a timely manner and said they would check into it.

Very cool. Renews my belief in my fellow man. And dog.

37 dead, 700 injured... terrorist assholes strike again

In case you live under a rock, London's subway and a bus was bombed by terrorists during rush-hour traffic this morning. 37 dead, 700 injured...

I am so sad, I'm speechless.

We are all British today.

On behalf of the deployed troops...

In case you haven't heard of the www.anysoldier.com website (and you have now!), PLEASE check it out.

This website is a care package grassroots project started by a deployed soldier from the local area and has grown to encompass all the troops deployed overseas. Soldiers/Airmen/Marines sign up and write an entry saying who they are and where they are stationed and then list what their unit would like to have sent to them in care packages.

Here's the thing that grabs you: most of them aren't even requesting stuff for themselves - they are requesting mail for people in their unit that never get any mail from loved ones... toys, candy and clothes for the Iraqi or Afghanistani children... clothes for displaced Iraqi families... and even toys and treats for their military working dogs.

The most expediant thing for me to do from work today to try and help out these heroes was to contact Petco and tell them about anysoldier.com and ask for donations for the requested items for the military working dogs.

But you can bet your ass that I plan to put together care packages and start sending them overseas to support our troops!

And frankly I feel ashamed as an Air Force veteran that I haven't done anything significant any sooner.

I have a new obsession

And no, it's not the Texas Puta. Even tho she has reared her ugly head again.

It's Panda Craze on MSN Games!! And I'm stuck on Level 23! Help!

What, you don't care about my obsession with this game that helps me sneakily while away the afternoon at work, you say? (While I pathetically try not to yell 'Oh maaaaaaaaaan!' in dismay when I get trapped yet again by the dastardly zookeepers so all my co-workers don't come running to look at my screen thinking the system is down, only to see my poor little panda in a trap. Grrrr)

You want to hear about Texas Puta? And how she is still pathetic? And pisses me off? Well, she is and she does.

'nuff bout that.

Damn Russian astrologers give all us kooks a bad name

Astrologist sues NASA over comet crash

MOSCOW (Reuters) - A Russian astrologist who says NASA has altered her horoscope by crashing a spacecraft into a comet is suing the U.S. space agency for damages of $300 million, local media reported Monday.

NASA deliberately crashed its probe, named Deep Impact, into the Tempel 1 comet to unleash a spray of material formed billions of years ago which scientists hope will shed new light on the composition of the solar system.

"It is obvious that elements of the comet's orbit, and correspondingly the ephemeris, will change after the explosion, which interferes with my astrology work and distorts my horoscope," Izvestia daily quoted astrologist Marina Bai as saying in legal documents submitted before Monday's collision.

A spokeswoman for a Moscow district court said initial preparations for the case were underway but could not say when the hearing would begin. NASA representatives in Moscow were unavailable for comment.

New Fave Quote

"I'm going to drink myself into a low level of intelligence tonight." ~ Anonymous Virgo.

Yeah baby!!!

Happy Friday

Courtesy of my bestest bud

FEMALE PRAYER
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and ! begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to"How big is my behind?"
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.
Amen.

MALE PRAYER
I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac
with huge boobs who owns a liquor store
and a bass boat.
This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit
Amen

Yeah, chicks dig me...

wait, I am a chick!



You are Napoleon Dynamite and a buttload of gangs
are trying to recruit you.


Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Anatomy of a Failed Marriage, Finale

The next four years were a huge struggle before I finally gave up. We still lived a semi-normal life on the outside. We both got out of the Air Force and found work in the IT industry. We bought a house and had another daughter, Ashlyn (I didn't want Lauren to grow up alone).

But things aren't always what they seem. C had completely withdrawn from me, his daughters, his family and his friends. He had panic attacks which resulted in huge fights when we made plans to leave the house - even simple ones to meet friends for dinner. He became completely obsessed with an online RPG and played it basically non-stop, except for work and a few months here and there, for 4 years. We ended up living together but not sleeping in the same bed for those same four years - at first because of his neck, then because I was pregnant, then because I was breast-feeding a newborn... but really it was because we had drifted so far apart, I didn't feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed with him anymore. We hardly talked at all. I shouldered all the responsibility for running the house, raising the girls, managing the finances, all while working full time with a long commute.

Every few months, I would give him an ultimatum - get help or I was leaving and taking the girls with me. He would break down and apologize and swear things would get better, and they would for a month... then things would go right back to where they were.

You see, C had completely lost his own sense of self because of three pivotal occurances: 1. The injury to his neck, 2. Separating from the Air Force, and 3. Losing his security clearance because he couldn't pass the polygraph. He had always thought of himself as a young, virile, athletic, career military guy. With the injury to his neck, he could barely swing his golf club without a lot of pain, much less play baseball or basketball. He separated from the Air Force at the end of his enlistment because he didn't want to go back to Korea, so he was lost in his career. And when he finally got settled in the IT field as a network engineer, his clearance got pulled because he felt guilty about smoking pot when he was 18 and had never told anyone the truth. He was drowning in feelings of shame and insecurity and couldn't see a way out, so he withdrew into a fantasy world where he was a hero and could conquer his demons with a sword instead facing his real-life demons. I knew this. I felt for him, I really did. But his problems were beyond my reach and he refused to get help for three years.

In the fourth year of his downward spiral, he finally agreed to see a therapist to help him work out his anxiety about the polygraph. In reality, his teenage pot-smoking was no big deal, even to the person administering the polygraph. The rule is that you can't have smoked pot in the last 5 years - he had smoked it over 12 years before. But his guilty feelings about lying had built up so much in his head, he was reacting to EVERY drug question as lying when he wasn't because he was so anxious and nervous. So he went to a therapist. They worked on his anxiety. They worked on anger management... I knew C was trying and I did see some small improvements, but then he stopped going. He was traveling alot for work and at first, he truly didn't have the time to go, but after a while, he just didn't want to go back.

It was now September of 2003. We had been married for almost 9 years. We had two beautiful daughters, good jobs, a nice house in a nice neighboorhood... and I was completely miserable. My husband was a stranger. My hopes for a fairytale romance with C had long since turned to dust.

C and I both always had the 'somewhere over the rainbow' disease - that if one specific goal was met, that things would be okay and we would be happy. These goals changed over the years... when we bought a house... when he got a new job... when I got a new job... when we made x amount of money... then we would be happy. We achieved all of these things, but none of it made any difference.

The weekend of my 31st birthday, a hurricane blew thru town. We were all home. I was very scared because I've been thru bad hurricanes before and was worried about winds and losing electricity. I turned to C for comfort. For a quick hug and an "It'll be okay." He looked at me with contempt and told me I was overreacting, yelled at the kids for being to noisy, and walked away. I knew then that he would never be there for me like I desperately wanted and needed. It was that very moment that all my tenuous, jumbled up feelings of loyalty and friendship and love for him withered and died. All my hope for the future together snapped off like a light switch. I knew I would leave him, for good. No empty threats this time. I was gone.

I planned my escape for 2 months before I finally worked up the nerve to tell him. When I walked into his study with a carefuly written letter, he looked at me and said "I don't want to separate" before I even said a word. I told him that I had lost all hope and I just couldn't stay anymore. We decided to wait until after the holidays to tell the kids. I was moving out, but we would have joint custody of the kids - I didn't want to deny them their father. He had already denied them for long enough - I refused to add to that damage. My move-out date was January 31st, 2004.

The time between when I told him that I was leaving in mid-November and when I actually left at the end of January was one of the most difficult periods of my life. I agreed to go to marriage counseling, because I would have felt like a hypocrit after begging him to go to therapy for years and then refusing to go myself. We went and rehashed alot of old hurts, but even the therapist said that there is only so much one person can take, and he could tell I had already 'checked out' of the marriage. Homelife was no different. We spent most evenings talking out what had gone wrong, while C still made last ditch efforts to woo me back by doing things I had always wanted to do, but he had refused. It was very sad and surreal.

I moved out on January 31st, as planned. I moved in with an old friend who was divorced and shares joint custody of her daughter with her ex-husband, too. We went to dinner and saw a live band play and got drunk.

The next day, I went and picked up my kids and brought them over to stay with me. I needed to prove to Lauren that I had just moved out, not away, and that she would see me all the time, just like before. Ashlyn was just 2 1/2 years old and not really aware of what was going on, but Lauren was almost 7 and in the middle of first grade and thought she was losing her mom, even tho we had explained what joint custody was and that she would still see both of us all the time. She didn't really grasp the concept until it was put into practice, and her relief at not losing her parents was palpable. I regret putting Lauren thru the divorce. Ashlyn won't even remember C and I as married, but Lauren will.

My other regrets? I regret that I never loved C the way I should have loved my husband. I was never madly, passionately in love with him. When we met, I found him attractive and smart and funny, but those qualities don't make a marriage. I didn't know him well enough to know about his temper and his competitiveness, or his insecurities. He didn't know me well enough, either. I went from infatuation to disallusionment pretty quickly. I loved him in my own way after a fashion, but it was kindof a known-you-for-a-long-time, friendship kind of love... not romantic.

The next regret is that I stayed in the marriage alot longer than I should have. This may sound stupid and looking back, I think it was fear more than anything, but I didn't leave him earlier because I couldn't leave the area anyway because he and I were stationed in the same place in the same job. I thought it was pointless to leave him and not really be able to leave. So I stayed and stayed and stayed.

I regret having an affair while I was married. I never flaunted it in front of anybody - none of our friends knew - but I still should have had the guts to leave C BEFORE I started a long-distance relationship with recycled boyfriend for love and support.

I regret that I got just as mean in saying nasty things as C did during our fights after a few months.

I regret that, after a while, I shut him out just as much as he shut me out.

C started taking Zoloft to help manage his moods and reactions shortly before I left him. He is a much happier person now and a great father.

So even tho I have painted him as the villian in these long long posts, I was far from perfect.

I still am.

Anatomy of a Failed Marriage, Part Deux

At this point I feel I need to give some background information on C. C was the third child but first born son in his family. His mother worshipped the ground he walked on. He got away with everything thru charm or anger up to this point in his life. He was very selfish and self centered and very competitive. Competition in sports, which he played alot of, is understandable, but he was cometitive over weird things. For example, when he and I were in the same Chinese class, he would gloat if he got better grades or get angry if I got better grades.

I, on the other hand, am non-competitive to a fault. I avoid confrontation and I am extremely uncomfortable about confrontations that occur in front of me that don't even involve me. I have always played the peacemaker role, or capitulated to make people happy. Fret not, tho because in the last 10 years, I have learned to have something of backbone, especially when it comes to men. On with the story...

Lauren was born in March of 1997. Fortunately, she was the apple of C's eye despite his misgivings. He was very involved with her care, BUT... he was competitive with me! When she woke up, he wanted to pick her up first. If we were picking her up from daycare, he wanted to be the first parent she saw. If she fell and hurt herself, he wanted to be the first one to offer her comfort. He was constantly trying to one up me with our own INFANT daughter. To this day, I have no idea why. Parenthood is not a competition, it's a team effort. In his point of view, it seemed like he and I were always on opposite teams.

In the mean time, he and I were still arguing constantly. He had a very bad temper and I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him all the time. If he was happy, he was really happy and everything was rainbows and sunshine. If one thing that was important to him was 'off,' you couldn't talk to him wthout him screaming at you. At the time, I also couldn't understand why the things that were important to him were so important, mainly video games and golf. If he couldn't figure out a portion of the game, he was frustrated and felt stupid, so he would scream. If his golf swing was off, he would practice and play for hours and hours every day. If his golf swing was good, he was still practicing and playing for hours and hours every day to improve himself. Because of his various interests -which were very close to obsessions- C was gone alot. I was home alone with our daughter while he was gone with our only car, most of the time.

(I do have to give him his props at this point, tho. For only having played golf for a couple of years, he was almost a scratch golfer, with his scores averaging in the mid to high seventies. C is a natural athlete and is good at any sport he plays, anywhere from baseball (was scouted for the Dodgers until he blew out his knee) from golf (see above) to bowling (bowled a 298 last year).

Looking back, I now see the signs of manic depression in him then. They came into full view a few years later. I'll get to that in a bit.

In March of 1998, C got orders for a one year remote tour in Korea. (I orginally had the orders, but that is a forthcoming post.) He left in April for a one year tour. Things were extremely tense between us when he left, but I was loving and supportive when he had to go to Korea. Facing a one year tour away from your family is not fun, even if you are a self-absorbed jerk. During that year, we drifted even further apart. We both had affairs (him with a fellow AF girl stationed in Korea, me with recycled boyfriend -my fallback guy- who still lives in Fla). I became more determined to get out of the marriage upon C's return to the States in May of 1999. C still wanted to work things out, even tho neither one of us was happy. Once again, I agreed to a three-month trial reconcilliaton.

THEN... C got hurt. He had excruciating pain in his neck and shoulders, muscle atrophy and nerve damage in his left arm and fingers (this was doubly bad because he is left-handed) . He went from doctor to doctor and after being misdiagnosed and going thru a few excruciating tests, the doctors finally figured out that he had 2 herniated discs in his neck that were pressing on the main nerve on his left side, which was causing all the other symptoms. He had surgery in January of 2000 to relieve the pressure, but they couldn't complete the whole procedure because his spinal cord was in jeopardy. The surgery did relieve SOME of the pressure and he regained the full use of his left arm, but he still had a lot of pain in his neck and shoulders.

It was at this point that his manic depression lost all the mania and just went into deep clinical depression.

Anatomy of a Failed Marriage

I finally was able to file for divorce last week, after having been separated for 16 months. The ball is offically rolling. I can honestly say that I am happy to be getting divorced and that period of my life will be legally over. But I can't help but look back and wonder... what if?

It's hard to explain to people why you're getting divorced after having been married for 10 years and having 2 kids together. I can't look back and pinpoint what exact things caused me to lose all hope and decide to leave, for real this time. I can pinpoint when it happened, but the reasons why are so numerous and jumbled together with disallusionment, hurt feelings, and disappointments that it's hard to sum it all up in one or two sentences. I usually end up saying that we were just different people and we didn't know each other well enough to have gotten married in the first place. Both of which are certainly true, but those are really just minor details.

I guess I'll start at the beginning. My soon-to-be-ex-huband, C., and I met in Tech School (Insert collective groan from everyone familiar with this phenomenon here) , which for all you non-military folks is the school you go to after you complete Basic Training. Each branch of service calls it something different, but the Air Force calls it Tech School. You learn your career skills for the Air Force there.

Tech School is notorious for failed marriages. My theory on it is this: Basic Training is a very intense experience for most people and there is a huge sigh of relief when you reach Tech School. Most of these airmen are 18-19 year old kids, fresh out of high school, and this is their first time to be permanently away from home. In my opinion, these kids mature faster because they aren't spending 4 years in college screwing around and deciding what to do with their lives. The military has decided that for them and for most career fields, it's only a few months between Basic and your first duty station, where you begin your career. BUT (you knew that was coming) even tho the matters of a career and responsibility and discipline are taken care of, these kids are still emotionally 18-19 years old and still going thru teenage angst where everthing is a big deal. So they meet someone they really like (often classmates) and start dating. Then they figure out that they REALLY like each other because they have SOOO much in common - since they all had identical experiences in Basic and Tech School, they think 'hey, we're adults now - old enough to fight and die for our country... why don't we get married?!' Anyone see what's wrong with this picture? The main thing is: they don't know each other! And the other thing is: they don't know themselves! And one more thing: they don't know each other! Did I mention that they don't know each other?!

So anyway... C and I met in just this way. In our case, the above stereotype didn't fit quite so neatly because he and I were older than most newbies - 22 and 21, respectively, and we, well, at least I, had seen a bit of the world. We were in the same year and half long language course (did I mention that I am full of impulsive and very bad ideas? Well, I certainly was then. I still am, but not so much) so we were around each other 24 hours a day. We dated for a few months and then things got kinda tense between us and we were on the verge of breaking up. I went to a going away party that night and came back to the barracks drunk. I went to see him and... we kindof made up and he proposed. I actually thought he was joking. But I accepted, nonetheless. Then we called our families. I went down to L.A. to meet his family, then we flew to Fla so he could meet mine. We got married at the courthouse in Fla a month after we got engaged. It was December 1994. We had known each other for 6 months.

Here is our first mistake: we moved out of the barracks and into base housing several miles away from post. We had no money and no friends and no furniture. We started fighting then. And boy, did we fight. The fighting really hurt my feelings - I had never argued with a boyfriend like that, and no one had ever taught him to fight fair. When he got mad, no matter what it was over, it was no holds barred and he called me every name in the book. He also said he regretted getting married and thought being married would hold him back from his goals. (Of course, in my mind, this begs the question 'if he felt that way, then why the hell did he propose in the first place?')

This was the start of my disallusionment. When we got married, I had the Disney, happily-ever-after scenario in my head. I had never lived with a guy before, never dealt with day to day things like money and schedules and stress. I had never even lived on my own before. I had either lived with my parents or my sister. C had been more independent, but he hadn't been in a super serious relationship before. He had never lived with anyone either. At the beginning, we were basically two naive kids full of unmet expectations (me) and resentment (him). I did everything I thought a good little wife was supposed to do, but I never stood up for myself. The first 15 months of our marriage was spent this way. Fighting, hurt feelings, and resentment. I was fighting for our marriage, he was fighting against it.

It got to the point where we decided to take separate vacations - 3 weeks - to re-evaluate what we were doing and where we were going as a married couple. I went to Fla and he went to L.A. While I was in Fla, I told my parents what was going on, and I came to the conclusion that I was making myself miserable and decided to get out while the getting was good, since it was what C wanted, too. Ironically, while C was in L.A., he had a chat with a close friend who changed his perspective on marriage. So C and I returned from our vacations with me ready to separate and him ready to reconcile. We went to marriage counseling and discovered that we were fighting over control issues and not really getting to the root of what was bothering us. We decided to give it another 3 months on a trial basis. Things were a little better, but still pretty rocky between us. I still wanted to leave.

Halfway thru this trial period, I found out I was pregnant. When the doctor told me, I started crying uncontrollably. I felt so confused. I wanted the baby, but my marriage had been so bad, I didn't want to bring a child into it. It was several hours before I could tell C because he was out of town for the day. During that time, I decided that no matter what happened between C and I, I was going to have the baby. I was emotionally mature enough, financially stable with job security and I could handle raising a child on my own if it came to that. When he got home, I sat him down and told him. I tried not to ambush him, but I'm sure that's what it felt like to him. He freaked out, and not in a good way. He didn't feel like he was ready to have a child, and having a child made him feel even more trapped. So he took off for a few hours and returned with a dozen roses, tho I suspect they were more because he had just bought an expensive pair of speakers off the BACK OF A VAN, instead him freaking out on me when I was freaked out, too.

The marriage during my pregnancy went surprisingly well. We stopped fighting over trivial stuff because we realized that it just didn't matter. The little bad things that happened really hurt my feelings tho - one being that he never went to any doctor's appointments with me except the sonogram at 15 weeks. This one sounds silly, but he had a cologne that made me nauseous. And he would spray it in our bedroom while I was still in bed, which would promptly make me throw up. I asked him not to wear it, or at least not spray it on our room, but he thought I was being stupid and overreacting - even while I was throwing up. And when we found out the baby was a girl instead of a boy, his disappointment took the form of anger towards me and he blamed me for the pregnancy and regretted it all over again. Not very nice memories to have.

Flashback time

Ya know how most people cut the apron strings and get buck wild when they go off to college? Well, I never went off to college. I still lived with my parents and had a serious boyfriend when I went to college in Florida, so no buck wildness for me.

My sister, on the other hand, went away to college and got buck wild and would regale me with her tales of drunken debauchery and dating misadventures and I felt like I was missing out.

Soooo... she wound up going straight from undergrad to graduate work for her Masters in International Business and therefore was part of a 1 1/2 year student exchange program in Tokyo, Japan. The first year she attended university, then she interned with a company for the last 6 months. It was at this point that I graduated from college and broke up with the serious boyfriend and decided to pay my sister a visit in Tokyo for a couple of weeks.

I called her and talked to her about it and she said, "Hey why don't you just stay for the remainder of my internship! We can live together and hang out. I can get you a job where I work and it will be great fun!" (or something along those lines... all I really heard was ESCAPE FROM PARENTS, SMALL TOWN, and SMALL MINDED BOYFRIEND WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!) So I enthusiastically agreed and bought a ticket in July that returned in December of 1993. I quit my job, dumped recycled boyfriend (one of those on again, off again things) and hopped a plane to seek my fame and fortune in a new and exotic place.

Whoooo let me tell you... that flight was soooo long. I went from Orlando to Chicago to Alaska to Seoul to Tokyo. It was the cheapest ticket I could get. Don't ask. I took off on a Thursday and landed on Saturday - I kid you not, thanks to crossing the international date line. Talk about jetlag! I felt like I was on drugs by the time I landed!

((Funny side note about the plane trip over: I took a brown suede bomber jacket with me -hey, it was 1993- and fell asleep and drooled all over it. When I woke up and wiped the drool off my chin, I had left 2 perfect lip prints and a dark space in between where all the spit accumulated - and the lip prints are still there to this day! Not that I still wear that jacket - it's at my mother's house in Fla.

Also, when I landed in Chicago, I changed airlines and got on a Korean Airlines flight. At the time, I knew smatterings of different European languages since I grew up there, but I didn't know squat about Asian languages - how ironic when I look back on that now. The announcements on the plane were made in English, Japanese and Korean. But dumb little South Florida Beach Girl (me) couldn't tell the difference between Japanese and Korean and thought THEIR announcements were twice as long, so I got all paranoid about what kind of information they were getting that I wasn't because I only knew English. Uhh...

BTW, have I ever mentioned that I can be quite the ditz, despite my intellectual prowess? That despite having a pretty high IQ and having been in Gifted and Talented classes and AP courses all thru-out school that, most of the time, I have the common sense of a retarded puppy? All enthusiasm and no fore-thought? Well, now you know.))

Anyway, back to my illustrious tale.

Let me tell you what my expectations of Japan were BEFORE I went:
-Quality time with my sister
-Learning a new culture and a new language
-Making pretty good money and saving it for my return to Fla.

What actually happened:
-Worked illegally in a casino under the Japanese mob
-Got drunk almost every day
-Smoked alot of cigarettes
-Smoked alot of hash
-Dated a few cute American military boys
-Punched drunk Japanese business man
-Got felt up by many drunk middle-aged Japanese men
-Made alot of friends, many of which were drug dealers who would slip drugs in my pocket for free, which I would promptly give away, unless it was hash.
-Hid friend from Japanese mob so they wouldn't kill her - she owed them money
-Went to Korea to illegally renew my tourist visa.
-Got drunk in Seoul with a bunch of Marines. Drank them under the table.
-Got in trouble with Military Police in Seoul for taking off my shirt. I was wearing a bustier.
-Made Military Police look like assholes in front of Korean police by putting shirt back on when they requested it. Sorry guys.
-Got interrogated by immigration upon my return to Japan. That was funny, cuz I was taller than the guy trying to interrogate/intimidate me. It didn't work.
-Was propositioned by Patrick Ewing. Said no. He was perfectly nice after that.
-Was propositioned by Terrance Trent D'Arby. For $4000! Said no.
-Met U2. Burned Bono with my cigarette. Good thing he was really drunk.
-Hardly learned any Japanese at all
-Only did one cultural thing the whole time I was there, which was pretty cool.
-Blew all money but $1000.

So it turned out that my time in Japan was my time of buck wildness. Do I regret it? No. Would I repeat it? No. My ignorance of Asian cultures is long gone, much of it with first hand knowledge. Some of which I really wish I didn't know - for example: child porn is legal in Japan. Know why? Because it is illegal to show pubic hair in public, and since children don't have pubic hair, they must be legal. Turns your stomach, doesn't it?

For more hilarity see: http://www.quirkyjapan.or.tv/

I feel like Pigpen...

Well, I haven't posted in a while, out of sheer laziness. So what is new with me? Not much except that it's summer and I WRECKED MY CAR!!! Grrr. Flipped it on I-95 during rush hour traffic, to be exact. Yay me. All I have to say about that is WEAR YOUR SEATBELTS, people! Mine saved my life. Really, it did!The guys flipping my car back over WITH ME STILL INSIDE IT didn't help, even tho they were trying to. So now I am driving the boyfriend's truck to work and daycare while me, the towing lot, insurance companies and Chrysler Financial all figure out what the hell is going on. How I am going to pay off a totalled car and buy another one to replace it all at the same time is a little intimidating right now. So I'm sore, carless, and very worried about moolah right now.

To add to the moolah problems, my company just won the proposal to renew our contract, so we all still have our jobs, BUT the next day, we got a big fat salary CUT because they had to underbid the contract to win it. SO now everybody here is good and pissed off and looking for a new job, including me.

And to top it all off, I had food poisoning a couple of days ago. Nothing like barfing at work because hey, you were just in a major car accident and used up all your sick time!

I'm gonna go stew under my dark cloud now. Leave me alone.

Stupid Questionnaire

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:45 am
2. Diamonds or pearls? both are okay, but sapphires are my fave
3. What was the last film you saw at the Cinema? Guess Who (but really, don't guess, it was predictable and stupid. Bernie Mac is funny tho.)
4. What is your favorite TV show? House and The Shield
5. What did you have for breakfast? a honeybun and coffee, ambrosia of the gods
6. What is your middle name? Marie, but most people think it's Ditz. Might have something to do with boob size.
7. What is your favorite cuisine? Name a cuisine, I'll name my fave meal. I am very multi-cultural.
8. What foods do you dislike? Beets - they taste like dirt. Not too big a fan of broccoli either.
9. What kind of car do you drive? PT Cruiser
10. Favorite Sandwich? Club. Bacon - I love bacon!
11. What characteristic do you despise? hypocrisy is numero uno, not doing what you say you are going to do is numero dos, but lying and cheating are pretty high up there too, now. grr
12. Favorite item of clothing? jeans and sandals
13. If you could go anywhere in the world for a holiday where would you go? Venice
14. What color is your bathroom? White
15. Favorite brand of clothing? Frederick's of Hollywood
16. Where would you like to retire? someplace warm, but without hurricanes
17. Favorite time of the day? 11:00 pm
18. What was your most memorable birthday? They all blur together. 18, maybe?
19. Where were you born? Heidelberg, West Germany
20. Favorite sport to watch? Live soccer (but only if girlies I know are playing), baseball and gymnastics and for some reason, I like watching the lumberjack (male + wood = strangely sexy) and world's strongest men competitions (no idea why. go Boris!) on ESPN27,345
21. What are you wearing right now? jeans, yellow sweater, clogs
22. What sign are you? Beware of Dog (always wanted to say that) Virgo
23. What fabric detergent do you use? Tide w/ Downy
24. Pepsi or Coke? Cherry Coke
25. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Night owl, but occasional sunlight is good
26. What is your shoe size? 71/2 or 8
27. Do you have any pets? do boyfriends count? what about petting the kitty?
28. What is your favorite quality about yourself? My sense of humor
29. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Neopolitan
30. What is your favorite CD at the moment? The Very Best of Sheryl Crow
31. Best compliment you ever got: "You have beautiful breasts and a very pretty kitty"
32. Are you superstitious? about some things but not about traditional stuff
33. Favorite thing to cook/make? Just about anything. But I hate prep work.
34. Favorite quote: The very existence of flamethrowers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, "You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I am just not close enough to get the job done." ~ George Carlin
35. Favorite movie: I have many in different categories
36. Favorite book: Beach Music by Pat conroy
37. Fave mixed drink: I have a few. (Stop snickering) Cosmopolitan made with mandarin orange vodka, kahlua and cream, amaretto sours, Jaeger bombs
37. Hardest lesson ever learned: Don't tell outrageous lies because you will eventually get tangled in your own web
38. Something you would recommend to everyone to do at least once: Take a trip to Europe

A little about me

Hmm, let's start out with a little background info on my life. I am an Army brat - my dad was in the Army for 21+ years as a PsyOps guy. I was born in what was West Germany (try listing your birthplace as somewhere that no longer exists - it gets kicked back at you) in the disco haze days. I have one sister, who is 4 years older than me. She and I are very close and we share alot of confidences, even to this day. My parents are semi-divorced and live in Florida, where I went to high school and college, so I consider Florida my home state.

I'm a technical writer by trade, only by dumb luck. I've always just kinda fallen into things, job-wise. I started college with the intention of being a nurse, then chickened out and switched to elementary education and finished my AA degree. I then went to Japan for 6 months and worked illegally as a casino dealer (hi DSS and FBI investigating my security clearance :) and returned home without having a clue what I wanted to do with my life... so I joined the Air Force. After 6 years of fun and games (I actually had one of the easiest stints in the military I have ever heard of) as a Chinese linguist, I got out and morphed into a technical writer, because that is the civilian equivalent to 'cryptologic linguist.' So now I write software manuals and get paid quite well for it. All on a whim. Funny how things work out.

Physically, I'm tall for a girl, I have what I would call an average physique that leans towards curvaceous in the chest and booty areas, have a somewhat attractive, friendly face and a huge smile because I have large front teeth. I'm smart and funny, gregarious, and sleep-deprived. I'm a free-spirited Southern Bell feminist who supports the military and police (I AM a veteran) but also gay rights and freedom of religion. How's that for an oxymoron? :) I'm smart as hell, but gullible (go figure). I like dark beers, I can make household repairs all by myself (yes, I carry a Leatherman), and I can even change my own flat tire, but I'm not really into playing sports because my hand-eye coordination just sucks due to some funky eyesight.

In case you couldn't already tell, I am fond of parenthetical phrases because I am a very scattered thinker and must interject into MY OWN THOUGHTS... how sad is that?

Anyway, on the current affairs/personal side...

I have a serious boyfriend, R, with whom I just signed a lease, so I am officially living in sin for at least the next year. Much of this blog has been written about him and our relationship. Typical girl - always hyper-analyzing every little nuance. But at least I do it in my blogs or to my girlfriends, so I am not one of those whiny annoying bitches who is always pestering her man to talk about their 'state of the union.' Don't get me wrong, we voice our issues when needed, but I don't constantly ask him how he feels about me and what he thinks and blah blah blah every freaking day. I hate that.

I am also currently in the middle of a divorce. That sounds bad, taking the previous paragraph into account, doesn't it? But let me explain. C. and I have been separated for 16 months. Maryland requires a one year separation prior to filing for a no-fault divorce, unfortunately. No instant gratification there. He and I were married for 9+ years, most of which was bad, in my opinion. I finally realized that I was just wasting my life and any true chance at happiness staying where I was, so I left.

The one thing (well, 2) I don't regret about my marriage are my daughters, Lauren, 8, and Ashlyn, almost 4. They are the most wonderful, frustrating, and puzzling things that have ever happened to me, and I love them to bits, just like every mom does.

What else can I say... oh - I have great friends, most of whom I met in the military so I have known them for 11 years now. We've been thru marriages, affairs, and divorces, pregnancies, kids, illnesses, moving, new houses, jobs... the whole kit and kaboodle life has to offer. They haven't run away screaming yet, so I guess we'll all be Best Friends Forever. :)

That was way more than you really wanted to know, wasn't it?

Home, home on the... tennis court?!

I find traffic in the Baltimore-Washington DC area to be highly amusing sometimes. Yesterday, a heard of buffalo/bison (what IS the difference? Is there one?) got loose from wandering on their own range and ranged near I-695 aka the Bmore beltway, where they were corralled into a tennis court by the police. CNN picked it up and was showing clips all day. It was pretty funny. Here it is from the local channel.

http://www.thewbalchannel.com/news/4415797/detail.html

When asked what he learned since starting work Tuesday, Baltimore County Police Cpl. Al Friedman told 11 News: "Buffalo are very hard-headed."

Another amusing happenstance: a local road was flooded. Not because of rain, but because of a BEAVER DAM. They were re-located across the road to a wildlife refuge.

Other funny things I have seen on the beltways (Baltimore's and the Capital beltway): last week, an armored car lost it's load on an entrance ramp onto the Bmore beltway. There was change EVERYWHERE. Even tho I was stuck sitting in the traffic jam it caused, it was still highly amusing to watch a handful of police and the poor guys from the armored car company frantically sweeping change off the highway, while another handful of guys were even more frantically trying to pick up the change and put it back in the little secure bags, all the while knowing that thousands of people are staring at them with ill will as they inched by.

In one week on the beltways a few years ago, there was a truck full of frozen chicken that lost it's load, a Snapple truck that lost it's load, an ice cream truck that lost it's load, and a truck full of potatoes that caught fire. And what do hot potatoes do? They EXPLODE. So there was chicken, mashed potatoes, iced tea to drink, and ice cream for dessert. An ENTIRE dinner (green vegetables be damned! Gimme carbs!) all in one week. That one is my favorite.

Ch ch changes

The past year in my life has been so full of changes, good and bad, that it's hard to remember what my life was like before. This, again, is good and bad. Will I ever reach the point where I can coast and take it for granted that things in my life, like my mate, my job, and my family will always be at least similar from month to month? Or is that a naive, unrealistic hope?

Let me chronicle what has happened in the past year - all of 'life's major stresses' and then some. This in no way is a 'poor me' post, BTW. Journaling just helps me gain some perspective on where I've been and where I want to go. I know you are supposed to do these in December or January, but hey what can I say - I am chronically late.

Anyway, here it is in a nutshell:

January 2004: left my husband, C, of 9 years and moved in with a good friend M. (hard, but good) The marriage was definitely dead from my perspective after 4 years of living in quiet desperation.

February 2004: C was stalking me, calling, showing up at the house, threatening to sue for everything he could think of... and found out my highschool sweetheart, P, (whom I had been talking to for several months and planning on seeing and maybe trying things out with) was dating someone else, which effectively ended any future plans of us being together (bad at the time, but good in a way, in hindsight. Made me finally let go of a memory of happiness and try to find real happiness instead.)

March 2004: started dating in earnest again. Liked the feeling of getting back out there, but felt very lonely at the same time. Oldest daughter, L, diagnosed with ADHD. Dad resigns job due to health reasons. (very bad) Dad then finds out Mom is having an affair. (very very bad)

April 2004: met and started dating R, my current boyfriend. This is a long-distance relationship from the start, which would be difficult, but force us to get to know each other on a deeper level if we could maintain the communication and not lose interest in each other, so we would therefore visit each other monthly (good then and good now, but with some very rough spots in between, because he is a frog.)

May 2004: Dad diagnosed with colon cancer, on my parents anniversary. This speaks volumes about their marriage. (very very bad)

June 2004: flew home to see Dad in hospital. Dad has surgery and emergency surgery (very bad), but is otherwise ok. Cancer is gone and he is in remission. (very good) R tells me he loves me (very good). Flew to see R for the first time since he left. Good but strange because after all the talking, we didn't know each other in person very well.

July 2004: R comes to see me. Good overall, but tense sometimes because it is the first time he has been home since he left, and when he left, he had just broken up with a long term girlfriend, so it felt odd to him to be here with me and not her.

August 2004: Quit job at TCS to work at much better, higher paying job at CON. (very good) M breaks her leg playing softball. (very bad) Flew to visit R. Good to see him, but a tense trip. Issues with differences in lifestyles had popped up.

September 2004: Turned 32. Decided my 32nd year wasn't really worth celebrating. New job is going very well. R comes to see me. This is the best weekend we have together, so far. Parents get hit by 2 hurricanes in a row. (not good) Youngest daughter, A, has unknown tumor in her cheek. (bad)

October 2004: Things with R are tense, but everything else is is pretty good. I flew to see him. He acts very weird. He's still sweet and attentive, but distant and won't look me in the eye. (bad)

November 2004: Find out WHY things are tense with R - he has been cheating on me. We decide to work things out, mainly because he's persuasive and I'm curious to see how we will get along once he's back in the same state. (very very bad)

December 2004: Laid off from my dream job at CON. This sucks in a major way because I really liked it there, and they liked me. Fortunately, it had nothing to do with job performance and everything to do with the company failing financially, which made me feel much better. I also got a severance package, so I wasn't destitute. Funny thing is, the timing was excellent because I ended up being able to spend 2 weeks over the holidays with R on a 'paid' vacation. A has a CT scan to see what the tumor in her cheek is. C goes berserk on ride home. My parents also visited my sister and I found out that now that my dad has more or less recovered from his surgery, he is not returning to the house with my mom, but is moving into an apartment some 80 miles north.

The year 2004 sums up like this: Move out, I start my divorce, L has ADHD, dad has cancer, meet great guy, A has tumor, find out guy is not so great, get laid off from job, parents separate.

So last year had every major 'life stress' I can think of, except death in the family. Sheesh.

Fortunately, 2005 has been better. I have a new job - the job itself is pretty cool, commute sucks, pay is way better. L is doing much better in school and hasn't required treatment or medication for ADHD this year and hopefully won't in the future. A's tumor is benign and vascular, so it should re-absorb by itself with no further medical intervention. The divorce from C is going - not well and not badly, but it is at least in progress now after a mandatory year wait.
R is home for good now. There's been some drama here and there between he and I, but nothing that was beyond redemption. We get along better than I had even imagined. It is so nice to have someone around who has the same laid back temperament that I do, instead of blowing up over every little thing, like C did.

Anyway, I hope 2005 is a better year. It's looking pretty good so far.