All posts for the month January, 2010


Published 21 January, 2010 by itsaheartache

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…

Published 6 January, 2010 by itsaheartache

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

Published 4 January, 2010 by itsaheartache

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.