32

My friend was 32.

I still haven’t grown up to the point where I remember to take my vitamins and eat vegetables with every meal.  I still color with crayons.  I pick the tomato hunks out of my spaghetti sauce.  Shoot, there are nights where I’d rather eat potato chips for dinner than cook anything.  I’m still a very big kid. 

This life I have is exhausting.  There is always.  Something.  To do.  Having said that, I never knew how grateful I really am for this life until very recently.

We take our lives for granted.  We take for granted that things generally tend to go well for us.  Sure we probably want more money, thinner thighs, whatever.  But we take for granted that we are here.  And we take for granted that we will wake up in the morning to complain about our thin wallets, not-so-thin thighs, whatever.  We’ll grab our lunch, pack the kids in the van, head off to work at a job we hate, and smile at people we don’t like.

I’ll never understand the phrase “Things happen for a reason”.  Let me try that again, I know what it means, but I will never understand it; if that makes sense.

This week a good friend of mine was taken from us, much too soon in my opinion.  I’m not entirely sure how much my opinion plays out in a situation like this but I’m putting it out there anywhere.  This girl was amazing.  She is a mother of 4 children, a busy wife, student, a friend.  She would have given anything to anyone, and frequently put herself in a pinch for the sake of helping others.  She possessed a quiet strength that everyone felt when they were around her.  And just like that, she’s gone. 

People tend to immediately cling to their faith when things like this happen.  “It’s part of God’s plan”.  “God must have needed her up there more than we needed her down here”.  “These things happen for a reason”.   These words do not make it any easier.

People cling to these words for comfort.  For solace.  For a means to cope with their own feelings.  Perhaps I’m angrier than most people at the idea that someone so fantastic could just be ripped from those who love her.  Perhaps I’m being selfish. 

I think the biggest thing is that I’m being reminded of my own mortality.  (Because you know, let’s make it about me)  My friend and I led very similar lives.  I’m 32.  I have kids.  I’m the one who holds it all down.  I worry.  What would happen if I am taken as well? 

My friend deserved much more of a life than she had.  She deserved more time to live, love, hug her kids, laugh with her friends.  A read a quote somewhere that said something about life not being about the number of breaths you take, but about the moments that take your breath away.  I can only hope this was the case with my friend.

My heart is destroyed right now.  It’s hard to focus on things I need to take care of.  But I know she would not have wanted people to be affected like this.  I know in my heart of hearts that even in death, she just wants everyone to be taken care of and happy.  And that’s what made her so fantastic. 

I’ll always remember the long bus rides on the bumpy back roads, when we talked about kissing boys and how the “hot shots” thought they were so much better than anyone.  (Hot shots = mean girls in the late 1980’s/early 1990’s)

I’ll always remember spending time at her house and having fruit roll ups and dancing to Club MTV until we thought we would puke.

I’ll always appreciate her positive attitude and refusal to give up.

I’ll always be inspired by her determination and tenacity. 

She showed me how to be a better person in more ways than one, and for that I will always be thankful.

I pray you are at peace, T.

The Wheels On The Bus…

One would think, that at 32 years old, I would have my life together. That’s hardly the case. Most days I can’t even pick out what socks I’d like to wear. Imagine my surprise that I’m still functioning, not to mention raising functioning kids. Wow.

I’m getting anxious because my job is almost done. I know we will be fine, and hopefully things will start looking up pretty soon. I have a good 2 months to look for something, and I am using those 2 months to my advantage. I can be a little more picky than I would be if I were unemployed. The “Search For Jobs” button brings back limited results, but I’m going to keep my chin up.

My niece turns 18 in less than a week. I wonder where the time has gone. For her birthday, her mom is arranging a big get together at the downtown gay bar and we’re going to have a riot.

I haven’t had a date in months. I’m starting to get lonely. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll spend the rest of my life alone. It’s a depressing thought, but one I feel I’ve earned the right to dwell on if even for a short time. I find myself wondering what kind of guy I will end up with. In watching some people’s relationships fall apart I am afraid of finding someone just to have it fizzle out 10 years later.

Tax season is upon us; I’m excited this year because I am catching up my bills and buying new furniture.

As a random side note, someone in the office just said “meat loaf” and my tummy about jumped out of my body. I’ve been bringing my lunch from home in an effort to save money. It works for the bank balance but by about 3 in the afternoon I am starving. The pretzels in my desk drawer don’t sound good. I want meat loaf. And home made mashed potatoes. Rawr.

I guess, in short, I don’t have much to say other than nonsensical ramblings. Stay tuned for more tales from the cubicles…

Oh, and PS – OK James Cameron!!!  We know you’re like the best film maker ever!  Now can we PLEASE put Avatar to bed?  It was cute the first time… when it was Ferngully.  K, thanks.

Happy New Year

Much like making our beds, a new year offers us a “clean start”. As we whoosh our blankets over clean, crisp sheets, the mistakes and regret from the previous year seem to be dismissed… For a minute.

But the bed gets messy. Pillows are strewn carelessly in search of the perfect position. You know the one, where just enough of your leg is sticking out to keep you from over heating. By the time you’ve had a good night, the blankets are half off and god knows where your other sock went.

Sometimes you toss the covers on carelessly, when company shows up. The bed is neglected.

This year I hope my bed is messy. I hope to lose mountains of socks. And I won’t toss the blankets back on when someone comes over. Let them see it.

This year, I resolve to NOT make any “resolutions”. What are they anyway but some empty vows we beat ourselves up over when we fall short. I don’t see it as failing. We are human.

This year I will not adhere myself to the latest fad diet.

This year I will not give up the things I love in hopes of creating some false sense of something.

This year I will not mind my manners.

This year I will not fake it.

This year I will focus on the steady improvements I have made in my life.

This year I will cherish every second I have with my fantastic children.

This year I will work hard to maintain the friendships I have been lucky enough to have.

This year I will find the strength to end toxic relationships.

This year I will be stoic in my constant endeavor to learn more, be more.

This year I will be happy.

This year I will be loved.

This year I will fight.

I have earned this year. You cannot take it from me.

Please Help

I’m coming out from under my shell to ask for help…

I don’t know Anissa personally but am a huge fan of her writing. 

Prayers, good ju-ju… send it all to her.

http://aiminglow.com/2009/11/hope-for-anissa/

 

Why We Break Up…

I’ve been asked more times than I can even count why Donald and I broke up.  Apparently because we get along and he’s a good father, it means we should be together and it doesn’t make sense that we aren’t.

It’s not that I didn’t love him.  It’s not that I didn’t think the world of him as a father.  It’s not that we didn’t have a good time together. 

All of these things are left in the dust when two people just can’t see eye to eye.  When two people spend more time fighting than making up.  When two people are as stubborn as Donald and I are.

You see, when two trains are barrelling toward each other on the same rail, they don’t meet, merge off together onto a conveniently located perpendicular track, having fabulous train sex on the rail, with hearts and flowers and baby raccoons to accompany them.  The trains explode into each other, in a fiery mess, full of destruction.  A hazmat team may or may not be necessary.

Donald and I are both far too stubborn and far too unwilling to bend.  We are the trains.  We are hard, fast, unrelenting.  A bad combination for two like minded individuals.

In a perfect world, we would be two trains, travelling on parallel tracks.  Their paths would bend and curve together.  When one train enters a tunnel, the other’s track would enter as well, and their light would come on to help. 

Still today, 7 years to the date that he left me, he still knows how to get me from zero to furious in about half a second.  And I know how to get him there as well. 

It’s too bad really.  But we can’t force ourselves to make a situation or relationship work.  No amount of pleading, irrational text messages at 4:00 in the morning, or threats of physical violence will make things different.  From my experience, the only thing that can make a bad relationship worse is the breakup.  They don’t call it a train wreck for nothing.

But then it gets better.  It slowly fixes itself, and becoming the person you know you are is refreshing. 

Long story short, we are conductors of our own trains.  We can build our own tracks.  Your train might be the strongest, hardest to obtain passage on, and the fastest.  But if you learn to maintain it properly, you can find your own Thomas the Train.

It’s Not Me, It’s You

So, I never claim to be the easiest person to get along with.  I get annoyed easily, I hold grudges for stupid stuff, and I’ll most likely laugh at you to your face if you fall down in my presence.  I make no apologies, this is who I am.

Generally speaking, I’m pretty even keeled and cool tempered, and usually have a smile on my face.  If I’m not smiling, it’s easy to get me to that point.  I’m not a total frigid bitch on wheels.  Unless of course I’m beHIND the wheel.  I have horrible road rage, not directed at anyone in particular.  I’m the best driver in the tri-state area; just don’ t expect me to know which way East is because I will mess it up every time.  Just hush about it and enjoy the “scenic route”.  Who told you that you could move your hand from my leg?  That’s better. 

Having said that, I thought I’d talk about some things that make me go from 0 to irritated in a short period of time (Let’s say 0.10 of a second)

~ Don’t cut me off.  Period.  This can be applied to many instances – Driving, speaking, eating, sex… Just don’t do it.  I think interrupting is very rude, and especially if someone is trying to make their point by talking OVER me, that just shows lack of consideration.  One way ticket to the top of the shit list.  Driving is self explanatory… Road rage is alive and well – Not in the literal form.  I would never pull someone over to fight them but I sure do talk a lot of shit when behind the wheel. 

~ Don’t tell me how to raise my kids.  This is a fine line, as it seems everyone and their brother has advice and has some golden magic rule that I’ve never heard of.  Bottom line – If you don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s best to hush up unless I directly ask you what you would do in a particular situation. 

~ Don’t disparage my musical taste.  I’m all over the board and I like bands you probably have never heard of, but that does not mean they suck or that I have bad taste in music.  I like literally everything and can sing along to more songs than most people even know exist.  I know what I’m talking about, be quiet and you might learn something.

~ I’m absolutely horrible at taking criticism.  This is a work in progress, however does not mean you need to break me in by insulting me or something about me every 5 seconds.  Knock it off and be nice.

~ If you are a grown up, eat like one.  I can’t STAND loud eaters.  People who slurp, chew loudly, pick their teeth, suck their gums, or worse, suck their fingers.  OMG.  You have to be kidding me, really.  This is probably #1 on my pet peeve list, honestly.  At least we know why there is back ground noise in restaurants – So we don’t have to listen to people eat.  I would rather listen to a CD of Creed, High School Musical, and Taylor Swift on repeat than to listen to other people make mouth noises. 

~ If  you receive good service, show appreciation.  Thank the waitress.  Tip her generously.  Perhaps even call the manager over and express your gratitude for the service you have received.  If you receive bad service, don’t be a prick about it.  Everyone has a bad day, and dealing with rotten customers probably even makes it worse for the service person.  Relax and know that you’re not the only person they deal with, and be sympathetic where applicable.  Sometimes having a relaxed, sympathetic customer is all this person needs to snap out of their funk.  This of course doesn’t give you carte blanche to be a door mat.  If the service sucks THAT bad, report the person. 

~ I guess I must not be as laid back as I thought.  More to come on this epiphany.

TGIF everyone!  =)

Singin’ In The Rain

I love that I have a 40 minute commute to and from work.  I enjoy having the time to myself, and having time to decompress.

I have over 50 hours of music in my Sansa clip mp3 player.  It’s no surprise that most days I arrive at work with my ears ringing.

This morning I was a a stoplight, about 5 minutes from work.  Ben Harper was serenading me with the cover to ‘In Your Eyes’… I was singing along, loudly, not caring who noticed the crazy girl at the corner.  I had my window down slightly.  I happened to look over, and the guy in the truck next to me was making the “roll down your window” motion.  I rolled down the window the rest of the way, and he said to me “I love that song!  Have a great day!”.

Indeed.

It’s A Perfect Kind Of Day…

On the way to the building this morning, the shuttle driver said ‘What a beautiful day.  I bet today is the perfect kind of day to have a crappy day’.

He couldn’t be more right.  I’m literally counting down the minutes to a meeting that will probably destroy my mood for the next day or so.  Goose Fraba – we have done everything we can at this point to avoid the worst, and unfortunately the worst has happened.  It’s out of our hands.

*Breathe*

So how have you been? 

I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.  I should just stop writing about boys here.  They always end up disappointing me.  I know the right one will come along one day and prove me wrong, but I haven’t met him yet so whatever. 

The kids and I are moved out of my brother’s house.  We have been in our new place for about 6 weeks now.  We love it, however do NOT love our neighbors.  Apartment living is definitely hard to get used to.  I can’t believe how inconsiderate some people are.  Between the loud music, constant stomping, and letting their heathen children run around screaming at all hours of the night… Oye. 

It has been very hard to get used to being a grown up again.  It’s all I could think about for the 6 months we lived with my brother, but now that it’s happened it’s almost like I’ve frozen.  Like I’ve forgotten what it is I’m supposed to be doing.  It took me almost a month before I was able to actually sit down and relax.  A month!! In my own place!!  It felt so weird.  My stuff doesn’t feel like mine.  I hate the second hand furniture I have.  I should note that I’m in no way ungrateful, I just hate it.  It’s not my microsuede fantastic furniture that I had to sell for nothing.  I miss my old furniture.  I’m counting down until tax time when I can buy a big fancy sectional.  If I make it that long!!

All in all, things are looking better though.  I am on the road to mental recovery.  I’ve not been sleeping through the night which is irritating, however once I start to relax and feel at home I should be fine.  Just a bump.

I love that I have two bathrooms.

I love that I have my own washer and dryer.

I love that I have my fat cat back.

I love that I have my own room, where I can close the door and breathe.

I love that the boys are back in their old school with their old friends.

I love that I am close to Jen and Elle again.

I love that I can cook dinner and not do the dishes immediately after everyone is done eating.

I love that I can go out at night after the boys go to bed and not feel like a bad person.

I’m almost me again!  I just can’t wait for the rest of me to show back up.

Landing…

I’m back, working on some things…

Stay tuned, children.

Rumbly In My Tumbly

Remember Winnie The Pooh?  What a big yellow dope.  I always thought he was selfish.  Hmph.

Don’t know why I all of a sudden resorted to insults of Pooh, perhaps I should have my cattiness evaluated.

Work Bully is in rare form today… I thought we were making progress but alas, HUGE bulls-eye right on my back.  Whatever makes her happy – I’m not going to let it bother me.  I’m here to do a job and that’s it.  I don’t have to like her and I don’t have to agree with her.  If she wants to be angry and mean all the time, who am I to stop her? 

The past couple of weeks have flown by.  There isn’t really anything new going aside from my fantastic boyfriend.  We are spending as much time together as we can, which is hard since I live with my brother and we live about a half hour away from each other.  Saturdays have worked out quite well, as well as quick visits during the week.  He’s all I can think about a lot of the time, which is terrifying.  (Just jump already, I don’t know what I am waiting for!!)

I think the boys’ dad has lost his job in some form.  If it’s anything like usual, he has quit.  I haven’t gotten child support in near a month now, which sucks.  Especially now.  I am making dirt.  I’m hoping that something just gives soon.  I’m tired of the constant struggle.  Yes, it makes me a better person but damn it.

From what Donald has said, later this year like in the fall, he plans on going out of state for work for about 6 months.  This would mean I would have the girls for about 6 months.  I enjoy time with them, but I am worried about the financial aspect of this.  Babysitter, extra food, oye.  I’m already panicking and nothing is even set in stone yet!!

I’m ready to be moved.  I had a little bit of money saved but I have an eye doctor appointment for the youngest boy tomorrow, and middle boy has a tooth bugging him so that will be a trip to the old dentist.  Joy!  It never ends, huh?

My book has stalled.  I haven’t had any real focus time since I moved so I have let it fall to the back burner.  Not to worry, I will pick it back up when I can, and work on editing and adding to it.   The completed chapters have names now, which is always a good thing.  It’s nice to see it coming together.  I only wish I could sit and think for 5 seconds without all these other thoughts flooding in.   Soon, I hope.

I have 3 more months to go to meet my move out goal of July 1.  I don’t see any reason why I can’t accomplish this goal as long as I keep my job and I keep everyone happy.  April is not going to be a stellar month for saving, as I have the wedding and bachelorette party coming up.  If I can make it through this month without having a complete breakdown it will be a miracle.  Especially now that I’m out another 400 dollars a month almost. 

I know it will all be OK.  I just want it to be OK right now.

More updates to come.