All posts for the month September, 2008

So… We’d Be Like Lesbians, But Without The Sex?

Published 26 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

My friend Carly and I were chatting on the phone this morning about how pathetic dating has become, and about how hard it is to find a GOOD guy.  Sure, they all have redeeming qualities, and I’m sure some of them are good.  The good ones are already paired off, or gay.  Simple as that.

Guys are SO hard to understand.  They all crow about how they want a “good” girl, and one they can be themselves around.  No, they don’t.  They want the girl who will suck them off during halftime in time for them to get back to the bar with their friends, and then have the house clean when they get home.  OH and for them to not sleep over or keep any of their things at his house.  Forgive me for being harsh, but the majority of men who I have encountered most certainly are NOT ready for a real girl.  They just say they are, and when a real one shows up they have no idea what to do with her.

I have dated every extreme of man you can find.  And all of them had something in common.  Me. Let’s take a trip, shall we?  A sort of “This is Your Relationship Life”…

My first boyfriend ever was D.  He was athletic, handsome, popular, but not too bright.  He taught me how to kiss, and told me I was pretty.  We broke up when I found out that he was checking out my friend’s legs and trying to get her phone number.

My second boyfriend was B.  He was total bad boy all the way.  Smoked, drank, pothead, walking the railroad tracks at 3 in the morning… Perfect for good old teenage rebellion.  He was also my “first”, you know what.  It was awkward being with him physically, because I had no idea what I was doing; but he seemed patient.  He became frustrated with my unwillingness to participate in certain activities (Oral sex), and cheated on me with some girl named Sara.  She must have had a hallway for a throat.  But I digress.

I moved to a different town after that, and began dating D.  He was a football player, and bought me lots of presents.  The one thing I will always remember about him was that he came over for dinner once and put everything in the world on his hot dog.  In summary:  Ketchup, Mustard, Mayo, Onions, Pickles, Cheese, Chili, BBQ Sauce, Tomatoes, Ranch Dressing, and Salsa.  OH and he smooshed potato chips on top of the whole horrible mess.  I’m not making this up.  The end of this relationship came when I became annoyed with his eating habits.  Yes, my friends, I was the bitch this time.  I broke up with him in my kitchen, and while he cried at my table I ran into the other room and laughed with my mom’s boyfriend.  I honestly feel bad about it.

After D, I went through a “friendly” phase where I wasn’t dating anyone but I was really flirty.  I met M at this time.  M is the boys’ dad.  I didn’t like M right away; I found him to be clingy and annoying.  But eventually he grew on me, and there he would stay for 4 damn years.  What can I say about M?  He was un-motivated, disloyal, a professional at stretching the truth.  My relationship with him was tumultuous, and ended very badly.  He still to this day, 10 years later, does not acknowledge or believe his part in the breakup.

After the breakup with M, I was alone for about 2 years.  I did not have relationships, but was very flirty, and very friendly.  With a lot of people.  I’m not ashamed, because I have no reason to be.  I friended people from pool players to college students to gas station attendants.  If you had a Kamikaze, I was your friend. I hate Kamikazes now.

When I was done with my selfish phase, I met D; the girls’ dad.  I hated him the minute I met him, but was drawn to him for some reason.  He is loud, boisterous, cocky, and the biggest momma’s boy I have ever met in my life.  No, seriously.  I have stories that would make you cringe.  I’m surprised he let her milk dry up.  My relationship with D was loving; I mean he was a great guy.  He’s the best father I know; and very protective of those he cares about.  Unfortunately, his version of protective can be construed as controlling by people who don’t agree with the methods he takes to protect.  I’m one of those people, and this is why he and I don’t get along as relationship partners.

So since D I haven’t really been in a relationship.  It’s been 6 years.  I’ve dated men for a couple of months at a time, but it always (ALWAYS) ends the same way… I’m not what they are looking for; Thanks for the sex but I’d like to keep this casual; How dare you ask what I’m doing 3 weeks from now and try to invite me to your friend’s birthday; I have suddenly developed a lack of time to pursue this… Every excuse, I’ve heard it.  I promise.  And I guess I’ve re-developed my selfish phase.  I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at and I deserve to be with someone who can appreciate that and not only be proud of it but not be intimidated by it.  It’s OK that I can go to work, do the laundry, deglaze the sauce for tonight’s chicken, correct the boys’ homework, feed the cats, sew up the girls’ stuffed animal, and do the crossword puzzle from the TV Guide all without batting an eye.  Embrace it.  You don’t have to be intimidated, just be ready with a backrub when I DO finally sit down.  It will totally be worth your while.  Trust.

Well, laughing on the phone with Carly today was pretty therapeutic.  We have decided that if the market doesn’t pick up, that we are going to become lesbian life partners.  But we’ll cheat on each other with guys, because neither one of us can make the journey down under.  What is wrong with that picture?  LOL

But why not, seriously? I love women.  We are strong, adaptable, able to leap tall piles of shoes in a single bound… We’ve got it all.

I don’t think they make closets big enough for our combined wardrobes, though.  I think she’s the only person I know personally who has more shoes than I do.  Well maybe except for Elle… She’s got a ton of shoes too!!!

See, Elle would be a good pick too for a life partner.  She is organized, good at keeping a home running, and the girl is HILARIOUS.  And of course, super cute.

Jen can’t even say “pussy” so she’s out.  Hahahaha  Just kidding… I love Jen to death but she is very committed to her man.  You have to admire that in the girl.

I guess I’ll always be seeking that one special someone.  Hmph.  If you see him, send him my way.


Aaaand… Exhale.

Published 25 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

This morning in the shower I felt weeks of stress being scrubbed away.  I cried, not because I’m sad; but because I’m so, so, happy.  I’m elated.  I’m done being overwhelmed.  I feel… back to normal.  Kind of.

Long story short, Momma got a job.  I start Monday, at a well known company, doing exactly what I want to do.

Elle has an interview today.  I hope she gets hers too!!!

If anything, the last two months have taught me a lot about myself.  I am too damn whiny!  LOL

No, really, I knew that I’d find a job eventually, I was just terrified that it was going to take me forever and a day to find one.

This is going to be a great start to what I hope is a new beginning.

My big question is… How many new beginnings can one person use up in their life?  Is there some sort of tally sheet being recorded in the Great Beyond?  Does the scorekeeper decide “Ah… well too bad bitch, you should have used that last fresh start better”?  If so then I better be careful because I’m about out of fresh starts.

I have no one to answer to but myself, but these thoughts still linger.  They are refreshing most days, and they keep my eye on the prize.  The prize being success.  Winning the battle against everyone who tells me I’m not going to make it.  Everyone who gossips and is a totally different person to my face.  I hope to prove them all wrong.  I’m going to make it through this year if it kills me.

*Chirp Chirp*

Published 23 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

Ah, I love nights like tonight.  The air is cool and crisp, and the crickets are chirping outside.  A couple of moths have made their way inside, when I was saying bye to my friend Jen, and they are keeping my cats occupied.

Today was a stressful day, but I have persevered and am sitting in my quiet room, all alone.  Loneliness is hard for me.  Hard, but something I can deal with.

It’s hard to get back in the groove of this writing thing.  I’m so nervous of the wrong people stumbling upon my blog again.  I spent 3 years pouring my soul into a project that I had hoped would prepare me for a life as a semi-known author.  I had to delete my old blog.  I was crushed.  But I can start over.  I was good at what I did.  I can be good again.  Now, more cautious.

I shouldn’t be so cautious.  After all, it’s just words, no?  Well words can hurt sometimes; and words can destroy relationships when used the right (wrong) way.

Tonight, I dwell.  It’s a good dwell, though, so don’t be worried.  I am happy tonight.  I feel at peace.  I feel ready to take on the challenge of a new chapter in my life.  How exciting!!  As I learned in Dale Carnegie, “What An Opportunity!”

When Jen comes over she talks about work, and part of me wants to offer suggestions and ask questions to make sure things are going as I had them set up to function.  But the other part of me says “Fuck it”  And that part is right.  It’s no longer my problem.  What a great thing!!  There was a point when I was working more than 60 hours a week, including random calls at midnight, 1:00 in the morning.  I’m delighted that I no longer have to do that.  Not in a selfish way, but in an honest to God “Yay” way.

I’m listening to Eric Carmen “Make Me Lose Control” right now and it makes me giggle… My mom used to sing her head off to this song when I was a kid.

Oh and speaking of my mom; she is coming down for my birthday next weekend!!!! I’m excited to see her, and happy that she is making the trip this time as it gives her a chance to get a break from my sister and my sister’s kids.  We are having a girly dinner/drinks/karaoke date for my birthday.  I’m so happy to be able to spend time with my special friends and my mom.  I hope everyone can come.  Not that I’m a spoiled brat and will be pissed if someone can’t come… After all we’re grownups and have lives and shit.  LOL  I’m just looking forward to seeing everyone and having a good time.

Still no word back on the two-department job opportunity.  I have been waiting a week, and have been reassured that I am in the top running and have nothing to worry about.  Just in case, I sent some resumes today.  I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.  Can you believe it’s been almost two months already?

Tomorrow is my youngest son’s birthday.  He’s going to be 11… How sad.  I remember when he was a screaming baby.  Now he’s a mouthy pre-teen.  I’m going to bake a cake for him while he’s at school and surprise him.  I was going to surprise him with dinner but the light company had to come first today.  What a bummer, eh?  He is so humble, though, he will be very happy with the cake.

Tomorrow is also my day to call the 1-800-I have no job phone number… LOL  Just another reminder of my time off.  I’m going to start exercising.  I figure I have so much time here during the day, there is no reason for me to sit on my ass and keep feeling sorry for myself.  I have read in a bunch of different publications that exercise is supposed to improve mood.

So who knows? Maybe I’ll start exercising, feel great, and lose a shitload of weight in the process.  Take that, Old Employer.  Hmph.

Such A Lovely Place

Published 20 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

“You can check out any time you like; but you can never leave” ~The Eagles

I get bored when things stay the same for an extended period of time.  I rearrange my furniture on a regular basis; swap out shelves in the bathroom; and am constantly on the search for new and exciting things to decorate my place with.  I change my desk around constantly.

I’m jealous of the people who can be satisfied with “normal”.  I’m jealous of their ability to accept the inevitable, and embrace a lifestyle of continuity and the constant knowledge of what’s going to happen next.

In my heart of hearts, I’m a planner.  I like to know what I’m doing, and when I’ll be doing it.  Last minute changes to plans stress me out and give me headaches.  I don’t know how to explain it; how someone like me who can’t stand for visual things to be the same all the time is so anal about time and unseen details.

It is what it is.

So here is my life.  It sucks so much being unemployed.  The unknown details of when my next interview, or start date will be… It’s really starting to get to me.  There is nothing on daytime TV worth a damn to watch, so my background noise for the day is lame court shows and info-mercials for the 10-minute trainer.  I don’t get up.  I don’t do anything fun.  I don’t meet anyone for lunch.  I sit, on my fluffy couch (which my payment is late for), with my fat cat… And I ponder the lame-ness of my life.  Because I’m in a fog.

My continuity has become that I merely exist.  Every morning after the boys shuffle off to school I spend an hour or so checking email and sending resumes, then more of the same.  There is nothing to do.  Well there is, but obviously I don’t do any of it.  I could take up a hobby, but I don’t.  I could call my friend who lives 5 minutes away and she’s totally home all day too, but I don’t.  I could call my other friend, who lives 10 minutes away and he’s totally home all day to, but I don’t.  I could clean my house more, but I don’t.  I could volunteer for the school, but I don’t. Surely I could find some time to do a sit-up or two, but I don’t.

I’m so fucking bored that I want to die.  Death would be more interesting than my life at the present time.  The same damn questions from the same friends “Did you hear anything?”, laced with fake enthusiasm and fake hope for a happy ending.  The same hundreds of commercials for lawyers, technical programs, and tax attorneys, inundated with promotions for ring tones.

They don’t care.  They just want me to be happy again so they don’t have to hear anymore of this whining.

What do I do?  Slap on the fake plastic smile like I always do?  God knows everyone is so tired of me being depressed and hearing about how there have been no calls back.  Part of me thinks they don’t believe me, that I am just having too good of time getting shit for unemployment money while I sit on my fat ass and not do anything about it.  So let’s see… According to my “job hunting log”, I have sent my resume to 142 job postings, and have received 14 calls back.  Out of those 14 calls, 8 have resulted in interviews.  4 of those interviews were with temporary staffing agencies who have assured me that my resume puts me in the top running for some great jobs.  However, I have heard nothing from either 4 in at least 3 weeks.  Hmm.  The 2 most recent interviews are promising; and actually at the same company (different departments).  I am supposed to hear back any day now.  The waiting is killing me.

I want so much to prove everyone wrong.  I want it so much, that it’s overtaken any other goal of finding a job.  I no longer am trying to find a job to survive; it’s become a challenge just to prove “them” wrong.  The ones who wish me luck but silently root against me.  They know who they are.  The ones who talk sweet and write horseshit that they think I will never find.  Yes, I read it.  Real nice.  You know, because I’m such a menace.  I’m so dangerous.  I’m such a horrible person.  Keep rooting against me.  I’m going to surprise you, in more ways than one. And when I DO surprise you, don’t bother with the false encouragement.  I see right through you.  It’s a shame.  Now if you’ll excuse me, my light at the end of the tunnel is just to your left.  Thanks.

I sound so mean right now.  I really don’t mean to be.  I have no other outlet, because no one understands.  I can’t imagine anyone feeling the way I do right now, and having to hide it for sake of keeping a happy face on for everyone plus kids.  It’s like living a double life.  I can’t be myself, because it might put some people off.  “Oh, she’s so negative.  So dark.”

So fucking what if I’m dark?  Wouldn’t you be too?  I’ve been blindsided, betrayed, talked about, gossiped about, and forgotten.  No one cares anymore.  Even as I write this, tears have tricked me again, and there is this lump in my stomach as I think about the shitstorm that is my life right now.

It’s not. fair.  All I’ve ever wanted was to be happy. And I’m not happy in the least, lately.  Things need to change.  For the love of God, I’ve tried almost everything, short of electro-shock therapy.  And now I don’t have medical insurance… so there is one stone that will be left unturned.

Stay tuned…

Take Your Bottom Lip…

Published 18 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

“I love you very, very much.  You’ve just had… A LIZARD!!” ~ Bill Cosby “Himself”

Purists amuse me.  You know the women of whom I speak.  The ones who swear to Jehovah and Tom Cruise that they aren’t going to have any drugs at all during labor… They’re going to breathe and play soft music and have their labor partner rub their back with tennis balls.  Because, you know, all labor partners are THAT attentive.  Oye.

I’ve been in labor 3 1/2 times.  No two labors were similar in the least.  I say 1/2 because when I had my twins they were via Cesarean.  Not for lack of planning and trying.  It was actually my intention to push two babies out the normal way, within minutes of each other.  My hat goes off to any woman who can go through non-Cesarean delivery with multiples.  Owie.

I’m getting off track here…

In my unemployed-ness, I have the privilege of watching “A Baby Story” two times every morning on TLC.  It’s an awesome show, really.  I’m a sap for the intensity of a good labor session.  My favorite ladies are the ones who insist that EVERYthing go perfect, and the moment it doesn’t, they lose their minds.  They don’t seem to understand that although the child is being sprung from their vaginas, that it’s not up to THEM what happens.  You can only control your body to some extent.  That baby will come when it damn well pleases, and sometimes (OK, lots of times) it hurts like Hades.  It’s a BABY.  A small human.  Being pushed out of a vagina.  It’s not supposed to comfortable.  It’s not supposed to be pretty.  No one cares if your manicure is spoiled. And quit screaming like a lunatic.  You’re scaring everybody, and the more you scream, the less energy you will have to pop the kid out.  Settle the hell down.  Now do you see why I’m not a birth coach?  LOL

I remember planning for the birth of my first son.  I was still a obstinate 16 year old while going through the labor planning and, of course, Lamaze breathing classes.  I was convinced that it was going to be fine, everything was going to be nice and quiet, and that the baby would come out all pink and handsome.  Um, No.  My labor started abruptly at midnight and went from zero to “Oh my God” in about 1/2 hour.  I couldn’t get a hold of my breathing, because I was too stubborn to relax and let nature take its course.  As a result I hyper-ventilated and almost fainted.  The nurses kicked my mother out of the room because she was being mean to me.  Solution?  Epidural.  I will be eternally thankful to the anesthesiologist who put the catheter of pain relief into my spine, and as a result I was able to get a hold of myself and get a little rest, thus resulting in the beautiful birth of my first son.  That is if you consider hemorrhage and near death beautiful.  All things considered, we came out fine and that is the important part.

Now, I don’t care who you are… chastise if you will… The shit helps.  If it was dangerous to the baby, they would not administer medication to help with the pain of childbirth.  I honestly don’t know how they did it in the old times.  “Bite this stick”.  No.

My second son was more than 10 1/2 lbs. at birth.  I had an epidural, but labor was so long that it wore off way before pushing time.  That sucked.  26 hours of labor, and 2 hours of pushing.  I thought I was giving birth to a frickin linebacker.  All in all, I focused my energy on the birth process and not screaming like a moron.  Yes, it hurt.  Yes, I would get a damn epidural if I did it all over again.  However, it didn’t kill me to do it naturally.

My third son was the most normal labor, I guess.  It went by the book.  The contractions started in the evening, and gradually became closer and more painful.  I went to the hospital when instructed, labored for a few hours, my water broke, and baby came shortly after.  It was a great labor, painful as hell, but honestly I can’t remember the “pain”.  I hope someone can relate to this and clarify… But the “pain” is all but forgotten once the little one comes out.  He was a great baby, loud though.  😉

My twins were planned Cesarean b/c of Baby A.  The little brat wouldn’t get her foot out of the way.  They were positioned like Yin and Yang in my tummy, and the plan was for me to deliver naturally with Baby A coming first.  Yes, a breach baby.  However, she wouldn’t move her little foot, so the docs didn’t want to chance a cord prolapse (This is when the umbilical cord comes out before the baby, thus resulting in a cut-off to the blood supply.  Very dangerous).  The morning of the surgery I was starving and thirsty b/c they make you go without food and drink all night.  I couldn’t even have ice chips!!  When I got into surgery, everything went fine except for a little nausea.  Then the spinal anesthetic made me itch.  Badly.  I was having an allergic reaction.  Then I got the weeps.  Oh my GOSH.  The recovery from Cesarean was the worst part.  Between bawling for 14 hours, itching almost to death, and not being able to walk, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

But, itching be damned, I have all my kids now, and they are beautiful.  I don’t know why women whine so much about childbirth.  I’d gladly take some labor pains compared to the constant struggle of dealing with mouthy teenagers and stubborn pre-teens.  Besides, baby toes are the cutest damn thing ever.

So ladies, when planning your childbirth experience, listen to your body.  If you need a little help, take it.  Not everything goes as planned, and the most important part is being able to function when that little one opens its eyes for the first time.  You want to remember it.  You don’t want to be fixing your makeup in your little compact that you HAD to bring.  You don’t want to bypass that shiny little gaze for bitching at your husband for forgetting your sound machine.  Breathe it in.  They’re only little for so long.

Thinkin’ Problem

Published 14 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

“Yes I admit, I’ve got a thinkin’ problem” ~ David Ball

It should come as no surprise that I spend a lot of my time thinking; whether I am otherwise busy or not.

I obsess.  I worry.  I ponder.  I daydream.  I wish.  I regret.

My mind goes a million miles an hour, and I can’t seem to make it slow down.

I suppose this could be a good thing to some people, as it gives me motivation for things to write about, or for new things to edit on my resume; so on and so forth.

The tough part for me is that I really miss sleeping through the night.  I’m to the point where I am considering medication to calm down at bedtime.  But then I find myself obsessing about THAT, too.  Would I take too much?  Would I take enough?  Would I sleep too heavy and be unable to wake during an emergency?

These are the things that bug me beyond description lately.  I have a million things running through my mind at any given time of day, so let’s take a look at some of the funnier ones.

  • How the hell did a toothpick get in my bathroom drain?
  • What did the cats eat to make the litter box smell like that?
  • I’ve been on a dozen interviews – With a kick ass resume like mine, why am I not getting any calls back?  Is the former employer badmouthing?  Are they allowed to do that even though I did a really good job for them?
  • I hope the unemployment money hits my account Monday morning; I’m almost out of gas and I’m hoping that the last interview I went on will be the last one because I am supposed to hear back any day now and I need gas!!
  • I forgot to ask, during the last interview, what the company policy is regarding tattoos.
  • I have heard some gossip about the old employer that makes me grit my teeth and feel even more ashamed that I got fired from such a good job.  I’m not sure if I’d go back if they called me tomorrow but I’d love to at least go in and ask them why I was treated the way I was.
  • I need to seriously let it go.  I’m not the only awesome person who’s ever been fired.  I need to get over myself and learn that shit happens and I need to pick up my ball and find a new playground.
  • I keep putting together work outfits in my head and making sure that I have enough nice ones to alternate outfits without looking like I have no clothes.
  • I’m already wondering how I’m going to pay for Christmas.

I think that’s enough insanity for now, no?  I will update in a day or so when I hear back from the last place I interviewed at.  I’m pretty sure I nailed the interview; now it’s just a matter of finding out if they like me enough to add me to their already stellar team.  Wish me luck!!!

Dear God…

Published 13 September, 2008 by itsaheartache

Dear God,

Why are we still in a war that few understand?  How many more sons & daughters aren’t coming home?  How are their parents supposed to have faith and believe that Your plan is for them to have their sweet child robbed from them?

Dear God,

Why did my dog Gus have to suffer to death in our back yard after the mean junkyard dogs from next door mauled him? He was the best dog a 5-year old could ask for.

Dear God,

Please bestow a miracle upon me and help me to understand Lattice multiplication.  Surely if my 10-year old gets it, so can I.  Whatever happened to the old fashioned way?

Dear God,

What will it take for me to learn the skill of making good chili?  You know I abhor kidney beans.  There has to be a better way.  I’ve got the white chili down, but bless me please with a good red one.  Thank you.

Dear God,

Please watch over Tiffany “New York” Pollard.  Help her to get a clue.  And please hide her awful fake eyelashes.  They look like tarantulas.  No one can be this clueless, please help her see her ways.

Dear God,

How is Grandma?  Does she miss me?

Dear God,

Can you enlighten me as to where all the odd socks came from?

Dear God,

In the morning, if I wake up, I’ll be thankful for another day.  Are you sure you’re there to thank?