Travels in the Land of Depression

I had meant to write this earlier, but, as with most things lately, I'm running a little late..... I really wanted to write this so that I could re-evaluate my history with depression before I started with a new therapist, which I did earlier today. (BT and I seem to have reached a... if not a deal, then a stasis, by which we'll stay married for now so that I can keep my health insurance and we're making money arrangements as well. *Sigh of relief* At least this can be said for BT, he is generous and giving of whatever he has, when he has it.) But not that the therapist and I could really get to alot of my history because I was trying to get him caught up enough that he might be able to give me any advice on...anything. Then again, as I write this, I'm not sure who exactly I'm writing this for or why, especially now that the first therapy session is over. I suppose part of it is so I can re-evaluate it Part of it is to share it with other people out there who might be going through the same things. Finally, I guess I want to share this with those who are important to me, who I know read this, so that maybe they can understand.

I can't really remember a time when I wasn't depressed, even though I didn't know that was what it was called then. While I don't remember making it at all, Sir said that, once, when he was going through some of my old stuff, stuff I had made when I was a kid, and there was something where I wrote that I hoped I would go to heaven so that I could be with the angels. From the date on it, I was only 5 or 6 years old. What I do remember was what got me sent to a therapist the first time. (And yes, I do mean SENT, because that was how I viewed it at the time and viewed going to therapists for quite some time thereafter.) I was either 5 or 6 at this time as well. My uncle, the middle one, the alcoholic/addict one, was just starting to get a divorce from his wife. I had been in their wedding, as the flower girl. She was beautiful, at least to me at the time- blonde, thin, an 80's dream. And, supposably, Cybil Shepard was a distant cousin of hers. Her name was Lynn. And, for some weird kid reason, I started signing my name as Lynn on drawings and assignments. I don't know why I didn't think it through further, realize that it would look weird and get me in trouble. Or what I thought was trouble at the time. Ok, and I do know why. Because I was a kid and I was having a hard time adjusting. It was embarassing when I finally got called out on it, when the teachers and the whole class looked at me like I was insane because I was taking on name of my soon-to-be-ex-aunt. Actually, it was so embarassing at the time that I can't remember telling anyone about it until right now. My parents had already been divorced for two years by that time and I'm sure that everyone in my family thought I was adjusting as well as could be expected. But, then again, it was just around that time that I saw my (biological) dad, so.... Needless to say, I got to go to see a nice man (therapist) a couple times. I remember talking and drawing pictures. I don't know if it helped or not.

Things started escalating as the teen years started hitting full force. I think everyone has some amount of chaos during their teen years. My body developed early and very visibly. I looked much older than I was and got hit on by older teenage guys who were mortified to find out that I was 11 and not 15 or 16, like they were. And I was interested in sex, but, when you are that age and you don't live near any of your friends because you go to small private school and you're too introverted and your neighborhood is too dangerous to be friends with local kids, well, you just don't have much opportunity to explore sexual things. Plus, I think the whole gender binary, double standard, fucked up way that sex is viewed in our culture doesn't really let anyone, boys or girls, explore their bodies and their sexuality in safe ways that they can view positively. I wanted a boy that would "love" me (as I probably would have "loved" any of them at that point) so that I could explore all the sexual feelings I had at the time, which I felt could only be explored with the opposite sex through the very straightforward kissing which leads to necking which leads to sexual intercourse. In addition to knowing now that there's so much more you can do, so many more people you can do it with, so many reasons that you can do it, I also recognize that I wanted that "love" to make up for the love I didn't have from my (bio) dad. (Even though I had at the time and still do have, luckily, a wonderful step-father who loves me and cares for me as he would his own biological child.) Also, if someone loved me, then it meant that I was worthy of love, which would contradict how I felt, as if I wasn't worthy of love, especially if my own father couldn't love me. Even to this day, I always feel like I must be unworthy because my father still doesn't want anything to do with me, which to me means he obviously doesn't love me.

But finding "love" at 11 or 12 with an 11 or 12 year old boy is...well, I was going to say more difficult than finding love with a man or woman your own age, but I'm not actually sure that's true. Either way, it wasn't very sucessful back then and I actually ended up spending most of my nights crying myself to sleep while listening to sad, crappy easy listening, adult FM music. The summer I turned 13 three important things happened. 1) It was the first time I got to spend my summer at home alone, as opposed to the previous summers which I spent at a summer day camp. 2) It was the first time I actively contemplated suicide. 3) We moved away from the "bad" suburbs of the really really big city to the "good" suburb of the smaller city where we still live and I got to go to a "good" high school. At this new school, I got to start over, in an environment that was quite a culture shock to me, where I had even less luck with guys. I decided I would stay stuck on a guy back where I used to live, the futility of which made me ever more depressed. I think I spent most of my high school afternoons, except those when I was working, curled up in the fetal position on my bed, crying. It got even worse during finals time each semester because of all the stress. I'd cram for as long as I possibly could, then break down and cry really hard, then make myself go back and cram some more. I was always very relieved when finals were over.

But, just as my inability to deal with men is at the root of much of my depression, men have also been, or tried to be, my saviors as well. It was my relationship with Sir, his unrelenting and unreasonable belief in me that caused me to try medication for my depression, to (kinda) voluntarily hospitalize myself when my continued cutting was too much for him to deal with, and to keep picking myself up over and over again when I fell off the treatment-for-depression wagon. This last fall, when I was overwhelmed by the combination of my very painful gallbladder problems, my anti-depressant medication pooping out on me, a summer spent dealing with and taking care of ill family members, and a wonderful loving couple who just wanted too much too fast, it was Mon Parrain's pressure and belief in me that lead me to seek out hospitalization again, to tinker with a new medication, to take the chance on marrying a wonderful man that I was (am) head over heels in love with. It was BT's long-distance desperation that kept me hanging on during the medication tinkering process- when moving from 75mgs to 150mgs made me aggressive and homicidal, then moving from 150mgs to 225mgs made me suicidal, and staying on 225mgs took away most of my higher cognitive functions. Now it seems to be TyRoy's push that is helping me during this down turn, helping me to have some kind of hope for the future, convincing me not to let the bad with BT determine my moods, and forcing me to get up (usually by kicking out of bed and not letting me return to it) so that I will be awake for appointments, job searching, and going to a job.

Alright, so at this point, I am realizing how much this post has deviated from what I had intended. When I first started thinking about this post in my head, I thought it would just be a catalog of my depression, my medications, my doctors, my therapists, and my hospitalizations. But I actually haven't covered alot of the actually nitty-gritty facts. I've ended up with a litany of how my life has been guided and shaped by the men both in it and out of it. I feel like this should really be the end of this post but I haven't even touched on the fact that, because of health insurance, or lack there of, I don't think that I've even gotten to touch on the fact that, while I think that talking to therapists have helped at the specific times when I talked to them, I don't think that talking to them has made a damn bit of difference in changing the deep down issues that still pop up and feed the depression monster. (Well, there, guess I mentioned it now.) I guess I'll leave that for another day.

How Horrible is This?

Yesterday, I learned how truly easy it is to get a divorce in my suburban county. All of the forms are available online as Adobe PDFs that you can just print off from your computer. It even gives you explicit instructions on what forms you need to fill out for what and when. And my husband is starting to date someone (online) that he played with before, with my permission, and I'm pretty happy about that. Happy that he has someone else to care about him and take care of him, even if they are only dating. Things with TyRoy are... well, in many ways in stasis until I get my own life straightened out (job, divorce, money, depression, etc). I am happy, but I'm also kinda panicking. I have finally pushed myself to find out about the paperwork for the divorce, found out it could be just a matter of a couple pieces of paper in the mail and a couple signatures in front of some notaries and we will be separate individuals again.

You know what is so horrible?

The only thing that is standing in my way is my fear of being without health insurance.

Ok, ok, ok, I should backup. It's not as if there isn't a big part of me that worries that I'm doing the wrong thing. It's not as if I don't know that it is wrong to leave a man I love when he is already in a precarious situation, both physically and emotionally. It's not as if I'm not afraid that I'm going to end up alone. It's not as if I'm not afraid that I'll end up feeling like I let go of "the one" sometime down the line. It's not as if I don't selfishly desire the kind of worship that BT always heaped on me. It's not as if I don't lie next to TyRoy at night, trying to sleep, and think that, while he's a great guy and I'm excited to see where it all goes with him, TyRoy wasn't the one who took care of me throughout numerous very painful bladder infections, who stood by me all day as I stood by my dying grandfather, who was a pallbearer in his ACUs only days before the last time that we'd see each other until he got back from Iraq. (Not that I hold this against TyRoy, but it is just the truth.) It's not that I don't cry thinking about all the dreams that BT and I had and watching them crumble before me. All these things and a thousand other things flood my mind everytime I think about finalizing the dissolution of this marriage. But nothing scares me more than being financially adrift right now with all the medical bills that I am paying and worry of how I am going to pay the future bills for future visits to the doctor or the shrink or the therapist that I so desperately need or my anti-depressant medication which has no generic and is $101 a month without insurance. How fucking horrible is that? Sometimes I feel like the worst person in the whole wide world.

His Kind of Money (My Kind of Love) - Eric Church

This is a new country single. So new that I had to find a live performance of it on youtube and then write down the lyrics myself (so bear with any typos please). But I heard it and... well, it struck a cord. Though probably not the one that is assumed.....

His Kind of Money (My Kind of Love) - Eric Church
I bet you the wine is fine
And I bet you the diamond is real
And I bet you his house is a big one up on the hill
That's where he's got me girl
Not that I blame you at all
No, don't say you're sorry
Just go and have you a ball

Chorus:
Cause I ain't got his kind of money
And I probably never will
But I got a buck that says
His twenties and his hundred dollar bills
Ain't gonna satisfy you forever
They can only buy so much
I ain't got his kind of money
But he ain't got my kind of love

Who's gonna bait your hook?
Who's gonna get lost in your eyes?
Who's gonna throw that ball
That's gonna wins you the prize?
And who's gonna kiss you goodnight?
And make it last all night long?
And who's gonna be there when he's always gone?

Chorus:
I ain't got his kind of money
And I probably never will
But I got a buck that says
His twenties and his hundred dollar bills
Ain't gonna satisfy you forever
They can only buy so much
I ain't got his kind of money
But he ain't got my kind of love

He can buy you all he wants to
But girl I ain't sold
So keep my number handy
Because I think we both know......

Chorus:
I ain't got his kind of money
Truth is I probably never will
But I got a buck that says
His twenties and his hundred dollar bills
Ain't gonna satisfy you forever
They can only buy so much
I ain't got his kind of money
But he ain't got my kind of love

No I ain't got his kind of money
But you're gonna miss my kind of love

Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ft5sZT_XW_s

How Long Does It Take You to Fall Asleep?

I have trouble falling asleep. I always have.

Some of it has been born out of just stubbornness. My uncle says that, when I was a baby, just as I was about to nod off, I would punch myself to keep myself awake. When I was a little bit older, I would play with the dolls and stuffed animals that I was allowed to sleep with, making up complicated stories that we would all act out every night, just to keep myself up. I got yelled at quite a bit for that. Back then though, I really thought that being grown up meant being able to stay up as late as one wanted and, since I wanted to be grown up, I wanted to stay up as late as I wanted.

Then again, I've always believed myself to be a night owl. I don't really enjoy the morning time. While it might be a wonderful time to get practical things done, like cleaning house or doing yard work, mornings have never seemed like a good time to get creative things done. All the really interesting things, like parties, plays, movies, love affairs, usually happen at night.

When I'm in a down turn in my depression, my "night-owl-y-ness" seems to be even more extreme. I am up all night. Nothing that I do to try to put myself to sleep works. (Oh, and sleeping pills? Forget it. Those stupid commercials tell people to allow 6-8 hours before they plan on being active. For me, it is more like 26-28 hours before I can plan on being active.) This means that I don't get anything done during the day, especially not going to school or looking for and/or keeping work, which then makes the depression even worse. That is where I am right now. This is why I've fucked up two job opportunities in the last month. It's gotten so bad that, if I end up getting a job that starts either too early or too late for my mom to get me up when she gets up, I've talked poor TyRoy into being my "drill sgt" to get me up and to work (at least until I can do it myself).

And, as if sleeping matters weren't bad enough, I have to deal with the fact that I can never go to sleep anywhere near the time that I lay down, which is especially apparent when I am sleeping with someone else. I can tell you exactly how my bed partners act as they fall asleep, the way their head gets really heavy, or how they twitch around a bunch, or how they crack the knuckles of their thumbs. I know this because I lay there, in the dark, wondering how long it is going to take for me to fall asleep, wondering if I should just get up and do something else until I'm more tired and ready for sleep, wishing I had someone to talk to about all the crazy stuff that goes on in my head as I lay in the dark unable to sleep. And it seems to take me forever to get to sleep because, the longer I am awake, the more upset and tense I get because I am not asleep yet.

I also have to wonder if it is a phenomenon solely relegated to male/female couples, with the men always being able to fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow while their female partners lay awake in bed. I can't think of any women, straight or lesbian, that I have heard complain about not being able to fall asleep while their bed partner has no problem. Maybe it is just that most people, whether male or female, can fall asleep rather easily, while I'm the weird outlier.

I just know that it is annoying as hell to know that you need to go to sleep, that you want to go to sleep, but you can't fall asleep for reasons you don't know, while your bed partner sleeps soundly next to you. Grrrrr.......

Dilate- Ani DiFranco

There have been several times when parts of this song really resonated with me and how I felt about a certain person but I thought it was just too damn mean to really put out there or to hold him up to. I guess I feel a little less nice now.

Dilate- Ani DiFranco
life used to be life-like
now it's more like showbiz
i wake up in the night
and i don't know where the bathroom is
and i don't know what town i'm in
or what sky i am under
and i wake up in the darkness and i
don't have the will anymore to wonder
everyone has a skeleton
and a closet to keep it in
and your mine
every song has a you
a you that the singer sings to
and you're it this time
baby, you're it this time

when i need to wipe my face
i use the back of my hand
and i like to take up space
just because i can
and i use my dress
to wipe up my drink
i care less and less
what people think
and you are so lame
you always dissapoint me
it's kind of like our running joke
but it's really not funny
and i just want you to live up to
the image of you i create
i see you and i'm so unsatisfied
i see you and i dilate

so i'll walk the plank
and i'll jump with a smile
if i'm gonna go down
i'm gonna do it with style
and you won't see me surrender
you won't hear me confess
'cuz you've left me with nothing
but i've worked with less
and i learn every room long enough
to make it to the door
and then i hear it click shut behind me
and every key works differently
i forget everytime
and forgetting defines me
that's what defines me

when i say you sucked my brain out
the english translation
is i am in love with you
but it ain't no fun
but i don't use words like love
'cuz words like that don't matter
but don't look so offended
you know, you should be flattered

and i wake up in the night
in some big hotel bed
and my hands grope for the light
and my hands grope for my head
the world is my oyster
the road is my home
and i know that i'm better
off alone

Live, in audience recording of "Dilate", but not as good as the one on the live album
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8If3qUM-mM

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back

So, with all this back and forth with BT, I've been so stressed, torn apart, not even knowing what to do, wanting to believe what he says but then finding more reasons not to. Today when I told him that it was really over. I just wanted a divorce. I was suicidal and not getting better and I just wanted out, one way or another. BT finally granted that he would do it, though he wasn't happy about it. And to go even further, he pushed me to reconsider and told him that he would come back to me anytime I asked him, no matter what his situation, as evidenced by the chat transcript below.....

BT (4/15/2008 11:25:29 AM): I am going to let you have this divorce Ava, I told you I would, but I will also tell you this that I am not going to give up on us!!!! I will always hope that one day, you will call me, or IM me or something, and say that you want us to be together, and no matter what, I will always do it
Ava (4/15/2008 11:25:40 AM): And if you're upset about it being "one-sided"[refering to the open marriage], why did you say, when you wanted us to get married, that you'd be ok with me going outside of the marriage but you didn't think you'd do that unless we played together????
BT (4/15/2008 11:25:50 AM): I am not BSing you, if you don't want kids, then fine, so be it
BT (4/15/2008 11:26:11 AM): cuz at first, I didn't think I could do it
BT (4/15/2008 11:26:30 AM): I had never been in an open relationship before
Ava (4/15/2008 11:26:42 AM): No, bc all you wanted was to be married and it did even matter to who.
Ava (4/15/2008 11:26:56 AM): So you said everything I wanted to hear to make that happen.
BT (4/15/2008 11:26:57 AM): that is fucking bullshit
Ava (4/15/2008 11:27:21 AM): All you want is to not be alone out there.
BT (4/15/2008 11:27:27 AM): If I just wanted to be married to someone, I would have married AJ
BT (4/15/2008 11:27:36 AM): or Kat, or someone else
Ava (4/15/2008 11:28:43 AM): Ok, I was just the best of the bunch, then.
BT (4/15/2008 11:29:04 AM): I fell in fucking love with you, I didn't want it to fucking happen, but it fucking did, that is why I fucking married you, why I want to stay fucking married to you, why I will always be ready at a drop of a hat for you to come back into my fucking life, and say that you want to be with me
BT (4/15/2008 11:30:03 AM): and why whenever you do come back into my fucking life, that I will always say"yes, I want to be with you", no matter what
BT (4/15/2008 11:30:54 AM): it could be 10 years from now, I could have moved on, got a new wife, had a kid or two, and if you came to me, and said you wanted us to be together, I would leave her in a heartbeat
Ava (4/15/2008 11:31:30 AM): You know I'
BT (4/15/2008 11:31:35 AM): I will do anything, give anything to stay and be with you
Ava (4/15/2008 11:31:43 AM): I'd never ask someone to leave their wife or kids.
BT (4/15/2008 11:32:09 AM): I would do it, to be with you, I would do it a million times over
BT (4/15/2008 11:32:28 AM): I love you ava, and when I said that you were my world, I meant it
Ava (4/15/2008 11:33:00 AM): I love you too BT. Goddess only knows how much I love you. But it fucking hurts too much.
Ava (4/15/2008 11:33:07 AM): And it hurts all the time.
BT (4/15/2008 11:33:13 AM): but I am done fighting with you for now, if you want the divorce, you have it, I hope in the end it is what you wanted
Ava (4/15/2008 11:33:33 AM): And not like it should. Not because you are over there and I worry about you. I do but that isn't the kind of hurt it is.
BT (4/15/2008 11:34:12 AM): I need to pull myself together, and quit fucking crying, and go take a shower
Ava (4/15/2008 11:34:26 AM): I'm sorry. Go take your shower.
BT (4/15/2008 11:34:40 AM): trust me, I know it fucking hurts, you are not the only one this is hurting like this


There was a little bit more discussion but I'll cut it off there because I think you get the idea. He will give me the divorce, even though he'd rather we stay together forever, or if not that at least for me to wait until he gets back from Iraq, or if not those two then to give him until July. And, you know, I almost believed him..... until, snooping in his email, which he gave me the password to, I found e-mails from a woman I knew he'd talked to before going out to Iraq, who now signed your emails, Your fiance, [her first name] [BT's last name]. He doesn't even want to give me the divorce but he's already engaged to another woman?!?!? I don't think that makes sense. Oh, and she was writing this during the time that I was talking about giving him another chance at all this. He hates TyRoy because he thinks that TyRoy stole me from him and threw a fit when I told him that TyRoy said (jokingly? not?) that I could marry him to get health insurance once I was divorced. (At the time, I was worried about how I was going to be without health insurance, saying that I would probably have to buy health insurance through my college.) But he wasn't asking me to marry him before I was ever really divorced or while I was saying that I wanted to stay married to BT. But BT has a fiance already who is already using his last name between the two of them.

You know, it really wouldn't bother me quite so much if he had ever mentioned being serious with this woman. He had mentioned how he was talking to two other women about the possibility of dating them once he and I were divorced, both women he had talked to before, but he said that, even when we weren't trying to reconcile, he told both of them that he wasn't sure he could be serious because he wouldn't be over me. But he never mentioned this woman as anything serious. If he had, it would have probably lit an even bigger fire under my ass to get the paperwork started, so he could have the divorce and move one, so he could be with her, free and clear, and I would wish him the best. And I have no clue why he would be resisting the divorce if he wants to be with her. Unless he doesn't, which I really hope isn't the case because she seems like a nice woman who has gone through a great deal of hardships and doesn't deserve to be screwed over. (Not that anyone deserves it, but... well, you know what I mean.)

So that's it. I'm done. Fuck this.

"I learned the hard way/ That they all say /Things you want to hear/ And my heavy heart sinks deep down under you and /Your twisted words, /Your help just hurts/ You are not what I thought you were/ Hello to high and dry //Convinced me to please you /Made me think that I need this too /I'm trying to let you hear me as I am"- "Love Song" Sara Bareilles

THE Psuedonym Post (Vol. 3)

There is only really one person that I feel the need to introduce, but, like always, I have copy and pasted the rest of the psuedonyms, just in case anyone needs a refresher.

TyRoy- A mid-30s man who has been the primary benificiary of my open marriage. I met him on CL through an ad simply looking for someone to talk to, though our relationship evolved into a "rough sex in the box" relationship, in addition to the original friendship, when I answered a different ad looking for some kinky sex stuff a month later, not knowing that it was from the same man. The sex and the friendship were both great, but it seems to be developing into something more, especially since I finally decided to leave BT. Of course, BT always thought that he wanted something more, was always very distrustful of him and his intentions. And, to make matters worse, TyRoy is an army officer and enlisted men, like BT, hate and detest officers. Explanation of Name: First of all, this is the psuedonym that he chose. As one may have guessed by now TyRoy is black. But, on the other hand, he doesn't seem to gravitate especially towards stereotypically black things. He listens to heavy metal, for Chrissakes! But right around the time he met me, he had developed what he called his "bling" name- TyRoy. Under this theory, his mother didn't know if his father was Tyrone or Leroy, so she combined the names and named him TyRoy. (Yes, I am aware of the internalized racism that lurks in this whole scenario. I am also aware that I am subscribing to certain racist stereotypes as well in some of my interactions with him. I try not to dwell on it.) Then, he started a running joke, a riff on the Chappelle Show character Tyrone Biggums, only TyRoy is not addicted to crack, but to pussy.

From Vol. 2
Boy Toy (BT)- A late-20s Army boy who is shipping off for Iraq soon, but that I'm having great sex with until he does. He lives in the nearby college town in the same communal home as a friend of mine and my uncle's, which is how I met him. He is amazing, sweet, and makes me feel safe and wanted all the time we are together. I just wish I got to see him more. While he's away, I plan to send him lots of care packages. Explanation of the Name: When I first met him, I thought that he could only be 21. He had, still has, a cute baby face. In fact, when my grandmother first met him, she told him that he must be full of shit about having served in Kosovo because he couldn't be more than 18 or 19 years old. In the month between when I met him and when we had our first date, which turned out to be a whole weekend together, I called him "my boy toy" or "my conquest" to all my friends. Then, I found out the sad truth that he was a year and a half older than me. **Update: We got married in Vegas a week before he left for training. As of this post, he's in Iraq. We've had lots of issues, mostly surrounding honesty, openness, and trust, all key components in a marriage with such distance between the partners, especially one that is open as well. Oh, and there have been lots of issues with money. But I still love him. Stupidly, irrationally, in a way that hurts all the time.

The Keeper- A mid-30s professional businessman who I met by responding to his Craigslist post looking for a mistress and "kept woman" who he could help financially in return for having a reliable, intelligent woman he could spend time with. He's not a "sex in a box" yet, but I'm hoping that this relationship develops more.**Update: One date and nothing more. Kinda disappointing.

Stewart- An unhappily married man that I'm have a "sex in a box" relationship with. He's a mid-30s professional businessman as well and I really enjoy how he looks like your average suburban dad/businessman, but has already revealed a little kink. It's just sex, but good sex. And, of course, Stewart isn't his real name, but the name he used when he first contacted me in an unsolicited IM. **Update: Tried to end things completely after I got married, because I stopped seeing the fun in fucking people I didn't particularly like, though he still pops up from time to time, wanting a little bit of action.

Chimera- And last but not least, my long-distance "sub in a box" relationship. He's a 20 year old dad in Ohio who is going to marry the mother of his child soon, but has yet to even really fully explain his desires to be dominated to her. Though their relationship is kinky, it is mostly him fulfilling her desires to be submissive. I met him on a 3D avatar chatting site when he was looking to be the slave of the Alpha Female in the Pack. Thought we started as friends, fellow subs sharing what we desired, I've since come to really enjoy dominating him.

Original Post
A friend and regular reader suggested that they have been confused about my psuedonyms for different people so I thought I'd start a psuedonym post that I'll put in the Important Posts section and update as I get more psuedonyms and more people in my life, so that there is an easy index for all readers.

Sir- Sir is my most recent ex-boyfriend. We were together 5 years. His psuedonym of Sir is one that he came up with because, whenever he is out with male friends at restaurants, the waitresses always call his friends "sweetie" and "honey" but they always call him "Sir." We broke up February 2005 and have remained good friends since. **Update: I sabatoged that friendship by revealing what I felt was his hypocrisy on my blog. But I also revealed a secret that I shouldn't have, largely out of spite and anger that I felt towards any and all men who cheat.

Ex-T- My first real boyfriend when I was 16. He lives in bigger Midwestern city where I travel to see my grandparents. We are still friends and talk quite often. T is his first initial and I was very lazy in coming up with a psuedonym for him.

Ex-J- My second real boyfriend. He was a great guy that I fucked over royally. But I think he has a good life now. Or at least I hope he does. Once again, J is his first initial and I was lazy.

Anna- My good straight male crossdressing friend, who I have developed a "switch in a box" relationship with. Even if we were to stop "playing", we'd still hang out and watch movies, get really drunk, and just have a good time.

Mon Parrain- The name is French for sponsor, godfather, advisor. I wanted to pick something that would fit his initials, MP. He is a "sex in a box", but is also fast becoming a very good friend who is teaching me about myself, my sexuality, and life in general. He has a very complicated life, but is very honest and caring. I hope that soon our relationship will move more towards "dom in a box." **Update: He disappeared, for the most part, shortly after I got married, though I know he still watches over me. I think he disappeared largely because he was afraid he had become too big of an influence in my life. That might have been true then and it might still be true if he came back, but I miss him and he made an indelible impression in the short time that he was so close to me.

Cassie- She is a friend that I've had for a year or more now. A frenemy tried hooking us up, but nothing really happened so we decided to become friends. I have thought that nothing was happening between us because she didn't like me. On paper we would have been a perfect match, but she never made any ANY move towards me. Turns out she is just painfully shy in the romance department. She recently became a "sex in a box" after I got really flirty with her. **Update: That "sex in the box" didn't last very long as she felt I was taking advantage of her. While I thought I had explained what I was looking for, it obviously didn't really set in. But, despite all that, we are still friends and she has just gotten with a great girl who she's in love with, so I'm happy.

The Pack- This is a family that I have met recently and seem to becoming part of fairly quickly. I answered a CL ad from a couple looking for a third, though they didn't really specify whether they wanted just a third domestically or both domestically and sexually. They offered me sanctuary when I was worried about a guy coming after me and I'm completely taken by them and the life they have to offer. It might just be infatuation, but, right now, I want to be a part of their pack, their beta female. Individually, since I'm not very inventive right now, they are Alpha Male(AM) and Alpha Female(AF), and their two beautiful amazing children are Female Cub(FC) and Male Cub(MC). **Update: This has since blown-up, for many reasons.

When a Crap Movie Can Turn Your Year Around

It is an understatement to say that I have not been very productive lately. It would be easy to blame it on the funk that I've been in, on this part of the depression cycle that I seem to be stuck in, on sleeping too much because I want to avoid everything, or on my angst over my failing relationship. But I've been in this place before and still been able to be productive, in my own way. I might not have been able to hold down a job, go to my college classes, or be awake during daylight hours, but I was still productive in my own way. I watched movies, kept up on magazine reading, journalled, and, above all, read books. The winter before I moved back to my parents' house, I read the first half, or more, of the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, series in a couple nights. But since BT left back in January, I've barely finished a magazine a week, haven't watched any movies except when I was hanging out with someone else, and I haven't finished any books. I HAVEN'T FINISHED A SINGLE BOOK IN FOUR MONTHS!!!!!! What is wrong with me? And, as for the movies, I have quite a few movies on DVD that I haven't watched, a few of which usually travel wtih me when I spend time over at TyRoy's, except I can't watch them there because his DVD player, excellent though it may be, is too old to play my cloned DVDs. In fact, I think I've had Hostel 2 in my overnight bag for a month without the DVD ever leaving its little paper sleeve.

Yesterday was my six month wedding anniversary. I felt awful, like I'd never be a productive, employed member of society again, and the anniversary of my dissolving marriage didn't make me feel any better. I started to feel a little better when I have a better than usual IM/webcam chat with BT, with Firefly on DVD playing in the background. I also felt a little better when TyRoy agreed to give me the drill sgt. treatment, if that was what it took to get me up everyday and to a job. (Though I have to get a job first. One step at a time.) But you know what really made me feel better? As silly as it is, what made me feel better was watching, completely and in one sitting, Hostel 2. Yes, watching Hostel 2 was what changed my whole day, week, month, hell, year around.

Now, for those of you who don't know, I am addicted to horror movies. Just like my mom is addicted animal movies, like my dad is addicted to (bad) science fiction movies, like BT is addicted to war movies. and TyRoy is addicted to (really stupid) comedies. Growing up, I had to sneak to watch most horror movies, mostly because most horror movies have at least one sex scene in them (so that those damn sluts can get killed later in the movie) and my parents wouldn't let me watch sex scenes. But I don't think that it was the sneaking that made me love them. I once read an essay by Stephen King that theorized that people love horror movies and stories because, just like a rollercoaster, they are scary but in a safe and controlled environment. This is why I like good horror movies, or good-to-me horror movies. And I know that a horror movie is good to me if I'm still spooked in the safety of my own house hours afterwards. Then again, what about all the other horror movies that I've watched? Even by my lax standards, good horror movies are few and far between. Especially if you keep up with horror movies as they come out, instead of just watching those horror movies that keep their luster after just a few years. It seems to me that horror, more than any other movie genre, tends to get stuck repeating variations on the same formula for years after one movie becomes a smash hit by using that formula.

********[Spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't seen Psycho, Scream, Saw, Hostel, or Hostel2]******
But nothing beats that moment in a horror movie when you realize that you are seeing something out of the ordinary. I remember seeing Scream opening weekend, hell, opening Friday night, at 10pm, in a theater in Chicago Heights, IL, in a packed theater with a largely black crowd. My friend Mary and I were 13. After years of making fun of the stupidity of the characters in horror movies, we finally had a movie that spoke to the flaws of teen-based horror movies. And just as Hitchcock shocked audiences of his day by killing the female lead of Psycho, Janet Leigh, less than halfway through the movie, we were shocked when the biggest name in the whole film, Drew Barrymore was killed in the first sequence. But it was those things that really grabbed us and made us appreciate the movie. More than movies in any other genre, to be good, horror movies have to play on, and yet still defy, your expectations. I think the last time I truly felt that was at the end of the first Saw movie. Not only are you left with the grim idea that no one is probably going to survive the Jigsaw Killer, but you can't help thinking "WTF!?!?!" when the man you assumed was dead all along gets up off the floor and goes after those with some semblance of life left in them. Even if "The Twist" at the end of a movie is a cheap ploy, it is a cheap ploy that I will always love, so long as I don't guess it in the first 10 minutes. (Yeah, I'm talking to you Sixth Sense!)

Don't get me wrong. Hostel 2 is not a great horror movie. It is not even a good-to-me horror film. It is nominally better than the first Hostel, but I think that might be my gender bias. I had high hopes for the first Hostel, but, despite the "twist" that it was just regular joes, albeit very rich regular joes, who were torturing and killing these young people, I couldn't seem to root for the victims. The first part of the movie seems like a not very funny comedy, with these idiot frat boys touring Europe looking for easy pussy. While I don't believe that anyone deserves the sort of torture they endured, I also did necessarily feel a great deal of sympathy for them either. I also wasn't particularly horrified by the idea that rich men from around the world would pay large sums of money to torture and kill people. A cynical part of me believes that they already do. I was glad that the most decent guy got away and that he helped another poor girl escape and that he killed one of the rich torture tourists, but it was all kinda...meh.

So what made Hostel 2 so different that it turned my year around? Once again, it's not because it was particularly good. There were so many groan-inducing cliches that I wasn't even sure why I wanted to watch it- the implied lesbianism of the main character, the potential torture tourist driven to it by an emasculating wife, a blonde party girl bestfriend, the naive teetotaler who tags along with the more popular girls only to become the first victim. And, for such a short movie, there is way too much time spent with the two men who have come to torture and kill, the emasculated one, who keeps waffling about whether or not he'll go through with it, having been dragged there by his macho bestfriend. This leaves us caring even less for the intended victims. Where the first killer being a female with a female victim could have been inspired, it ended up cliched, as she only wanted to bathe in the blood of a virgin, that timeless anti-aging secret that few women can afford. But it was "The Twist" that pulled me in. Granted, if I had been a little bit more invested, I probably would have seen the twist coming from a mile away. But I didn't and felt generously rewarded when the last female victim turned the tables, saving her life by becoming a member of the club. It wasn't just that she killed her would-be killer. The heroine of most horror movies has to do that just so that she may survive. But she has her would-be killer tied-up, has rendered him powerless, when the people that run the club confront her. She can pay her way out of the situation, out of a large inheritance left solely to her by her mother. But that isn't the only requirement. She must kill, must become part of the club, if she is to leave. Though I think the audience is meant to believe that it is her would-be killer calling her a cunt that makes her do the unthinkable, I think that is just what pushes her over the edge of the cliff that she had long been standing on. The ability to kill, the desire to kill men like this was already with her. She could chose any method for murdering him, but she choses to literally emasculate him and then leave him to bleed to death, not because she doesn't want his death on her hands but just because she can't be bothered by him anymore and bleeding to death without a dick provides a slow, painful, and humiliating death. And it was a bit cheeky for her to get her membership tattoo in the spot usually designated for a "tramp stamp."

So I'm left wondering if it was the movie, with its twisted themes of female empowerment and male emasculation, that made me feel better or just finishing something that I've wanted to do for so long, even if that finishing only took me an hour and a half. Maybe it was just that it got me to think about why such a not-good movie could make me feel so good....

Insurance

I think maybe I'm just starting to get old.

After getting a job so that I can pay off my stiffling hospital bills and how on earth I'm going to afford a divorce on top of that, the next biggest thought in my head is what I'm going to do about losing my health insurance after the divorce. I'm in my mid-twenties, for Chrissakes. I should be worrying about shopping and drinking, maybe finishing school. Not HEALTH INSURANCE!

But I am worrying about health insurance. I currently know how much a gall bladder surgery can cost, even after your health insurance company is done haggling down the prices and paying their 80% and it is quite a fair amount. But even beyond that, I have chronic depression. I would like to someday get to a point where every little setback does not send me on a self-harm/suicide spiral. I believe that this will require not a small amount of counseling over a not small amount of time. Finding the right therapist can be hard, much less finding that right person and developing a trusting relationship with them. That requires staying on the same health plan for that period of time, or having each health plan after cover the same doctors and therapists. Even if I didn't have worries about "pre-existing conditions" that might not be covered by a new insurance after a period of not being insured, I am loathe to go back to being uninsured because I can't afford to pay out of pocket for mental health services and the only avenue available to me, the local country mental health agency, takes far too long to actually help a person. When my meds seemed to have stopped working last fall, I was told it would take three months to get into the prescribing nurse practioner. When I think about all I went through when I started a new medication, which actually made me feel worse, I dread to think what would have happened if I had to wait three months to get the medication changed. Fortunately for me, I had private health insurance at the time and a private prescribing doctor who I could get in to see within a few days for a med check-up.

Then again, all this thinking about health insurance makes me think about how we establish other forms of insurance in our life. How it is becoming increasingly obvious to me that love, relationship, and marriage are just insurance plans against loneliness, having to deal with the hardships of the world alone, never having sex again, and any number of other things that one wants to avoid and that their partner can provide. Knowing the histories of both BT and TyRoy, I can't help but wonder how much I am just insurance to them. Then again, how much are they/ have they been insurance to me as well? Fuck. Too late for this kind of thinking. Wish I didn't have to do this kind of thinking at all. Wish my marriage had just worked like it was supposed to so I could currently be heartbroken over my husband being gone and just hoping to find a job, maybe planning on doing full-time temp work just to earn enough so that I could pay the hospital bills all by myself instead of using BT's hard-earned money that he wants to use for our future. Now there is no future. Yeah, it's too fucking late to be thinking about this.

Long Time, No Post

Hello loyal readers. Well, you'll notice that there are several new posts that are back dated to when they happened in my head, but that I didn't post at the time for several reasons, the biggest one being that I have just been to fucking depressed to do much of anything and have been spending most of my time dealing with stuff with BT. Whatever isn't me directly dealing with stuff with my husband is basically me running away from dealing with stuff with my husband, or at least finding something to distract me from it.

The short of it is....my marriage is falling apart, will probably be ending soon. Depending on who you talk to and what their opinion is and which of us they are friends with more, it could be either of our faults or both of our faults. And, in all reality, I will gladly accept all the blame. There is a big part of me that feels like I should just be able to deal with this stuff, work around all of it, be a good wife to my deployed soldier. And I have tried. I really have. And, until I finally said that I was leaving, I went by the vows that BT and I made, which aren't the marriage vows that everyone makes, as we started with a (negotiated) open and honest relationship. While I don't want to get into too much detail, the problems that I felt I could no longer deal with had to do with money mismanagement and all the lying and hiding that I felt was going on with BT. Maybe I should have given it more time. He kept asking for more time. He also said that all of it would change when he got back, because I would be there to make sure it didn't happen. But I didn't want to be the one to do the changing for him. I don't want to be his mother or his babysitter. Doesn't mean I don't love him though. But I couldn't take the heartbreak that I felt everytime something new would be revealed, everytime I really believed that the last time was the last time only to find out that it wasn't. Mom always says that you know when it's time to go. And it is.

But I also think if you were to ask BT, he would say that our marriage is ending because of new "sex in a box" that I have. For the sake of the blog, we'll call him TyRoy. (I'll post an explanation later. It was his choice of psuedonym.) The short of that story is that I answered a Craigslist post from a man who wanted someone to talk to because he was having a hard time. I was too. It was early January. My grandpa had just died. My husband had just left for his mobilization site and I wasn't supposed to see him again until he got back from deployment. The guy was really nice. He was going through a bitter divorce from his wife, who he still felt like was his bestfriend. Because he was in the Army himself and had gotten back the year before from a year-long deployment (his second to Iraq), he knew how hard it could be to be a family going through a deployment. When BT got emergency leave because we were fighting hardcore over money issues (and other issues), TyRoy wrote an email to both of us, about how we could help each other. It was just friendly and we didn't exchange pictures or stats or even talk on the phone for quite a while. Until, that is, I answered another CL ad, a man looking for a woman to do some kink stuff with, attaching my picture, as I usually do. The next day, I found out it was the same guy that I'd been talking as friends with for the past month or so. Eventually, we decided to meet and then hook-up, but just as sex in a box. BT didn't veto me meeting him or having sex with him or staying over at his place, even though BT did/does have a huge problem with the fact that this guy is an officer. (For those fellow civilians unfamiliar with the military world, from all my experience with BT, enlisted men HATE officers and, not only are soldiers not supposed to fuck other soldier's spouses, but officers REALLY aren't supposed to fuck enlisted soldier's spouses.) Besides that, it was a good arrangement and we both supported each other in our other endeavors. I supported him in his search to find others to have sex with. He supported me in the same way and in trying to work on my marriage. In all honesty, even though my husband doesn't believe it, he was the real final holdout, telling me to stick with BT, work through it because he could tell how much I love him. But after I had finally decided to end the marriage, because of several factors, like the fact that I'd be closer to a job that it looked like I was going to take and to make fucking easier, TyRoy and I started talking about/around the subject of living together. And just the other day, he had made mention of marriage.

It's an interesting and difficult situation. Obviously, it doesn't make me look any less the bad guy in the divorce, though I've pretty much accepted that I'm the bad guy and that isn't going to change. I still love my husband very much and would be with him if I could deal with the other things that come along with it. I care very much for TyRoy. (Damn, I kinda hate that psuedonym because it makes it so much harder to talk in a serious way about anything. Oh well.) But I am not in love with him right now. I'm not ruling out that possibility, but it just isn't how it is right now. And I honestly don't think he's in love with me right now. I'm kinda glad about that though. I got swept off my feet once before and I think I probably swept BT off his feet too and look where that got us. I also know that I probably shouldn't be rushing into something serious so soon, or probably at all, but it was kinda serious before I even realized it and I can't just rewind and make it different. I also don't really know if I want to be with a military man again after all this. TyRoy will probably be stationed here for another couple years and then he'll go wherever they tell him to. Depending on the state of the wars America is involved in, he'll probably get deployed again from wherever we are at, which will be a place where I'll have no friends and family. What draws me to this, and I think TyRoy too, is, in large part, the convenience and ways in which we fit what the other is looking for. Neither of us wants to be monogamous. Both of us want fulfilling, supportive relationships (both sexually and otherwise) where we truly be ourselves and pursue those things that we want to. Also, we both do care about each other and want to take care of the other person. And, hell, that might really be what a good relationship/marriage is made of. Not this wonderful, amazing, make everything else disappear kind of love, but just the everyday dealing with things together and taking care of each other and promoting what the other wants to do.

But, for the most part, I'm kinda useless. I can't blame it all on the state of my marriage, though. Maybe I can blame it on the depression, but I'm not sure about that either. Maybe I should just blame it on being a lazy bum who wants to sleep all day. I fucked up the one job that I had lined up, though I probably shouldn't have wanted or taken that job anyway because it was.... complicated. I really need to get on looking for a job so that I can support myself, no matter what happens with BT or TyRoy or anyone. Plus, the health insurance company is finally coming through on paying their part of my hospital bills from my gallbladder surgery so I have to come up with my co-pays. Granted, the co-pays aren't nearly as much as the full surgery but they aren't exactly cheap either. And I really REALLY want to get myself back together enough to go back to school and finish. Well, finish getting a Bachelor's Degree. That degree might not actually get me more money at a job or anywhere at all really, but I have to at least say that I was able to do it. How many completely worthless assholes do I know who've had their BA for years and years now??? I was supposed to be the golden child and I can't manage to get mine in, what, 7+ years??? Come on now. But, that is what is up with me right now. Please feel free to comment, berate, whatever.

Car Tunes- Angsty Alt-Pop Edition

[Backdated for historical accuracy]
What I listened to on my way out to visit TyRoy, the lyrics that are important to my state of mind at the time included. Explanations included if I think they need to be.

Counting Crows- August and Everything After
Anna Begins: It does not bother me to say this isn't love/Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love/And I guess I'm going to have to live with that/But, I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray/Or something in between...The time when kindness falls like rain/it washes me away and Anna begins change my mind...Her kindness bangs a gong/It's moving me along and Anna begins to fade away/It's chasing me away. /She dissappears, and oh lord I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Raining in Baltimore: You get what you pay for/But I just had no intention of living this way...There's things I remember and things I forget/I miss you I guess that I should/Three thousand five hundred miles away/But what would you change if you could?

Matchbox 20- Mad Season
Last Beautiful Girl: (Whole fucking song) This will all fall down like everything else that was/This too shall pass and all of the words we said/We cant take back/Now every fool in town wouldve left by now/I cant replace all the wasted days/The memory of your face - cant help thinkin/Maybe if we ever coulda kept it all together/Where would we be/A thousand lost forevers/And the promises you never were giving me/Heres what Im thinking//It wont be the first - heart that you break/It wont be the last - beautiful girl/The one that you wrecked - wont take you back/If you were the last beautiful girl in the world//Tell me one more time/How you're sorry about the way/This all went down - you needed to find your space/You needed to still be friends/Needed me to/Call you if I ever couldnt keep it all together /you'd comfort me/Tell me 'bout forever/And the promises I never should have believed in/Heres what Im thinking//It wont be the first - heart that you break/It wont be the last - beautiful girl/The one that you wrecked - wont take you back/If you were the last beautiful girl in the world//Its over now - and Ive gone without/Cuz youre everybody else's girl/It seems to me - you'll always be/Everyone elses girl/Everyone else's girl//This will all fall down/Like everything in the world/This too must end/And all the words we said/We cant take back//It wont be the first - heart that you break/It wont be the last - beautiful girl/The one that you wrecked - wont take you back/If you were the last.../It wont be the first - heart that you break/It wont be the last - beautiful girl/The one that you wrecked - wont take you back/If you were the last beautiful girl in the world/The last beautiful girl in the world/You are the last beautiful girl in the world/Beautiful girl
Ok, I'm not trying to be stuck up with this one. I just feel like this is how everyone feels when I get to the end of the relationship with them. I can't seem to just end things like a normal person. I have to feel like I'm "being there" for them, which probably doesn't really help anyone, except to make me feel like less of an asshole because I've usually cheated on them and broke their heart. And, in all honesty, they shouldn't want me back because I screwed them over. But I can't help trying to be the good guy to make up for the fact that I'm the bad guy.

You Won't Be Mine: I know soon you will be/Over the lies, you'll be strong/You'll be rich in love and you will carry on/But no - oh no/No you wont be mine

Does He Love You?- Reba McEntire & Linda Davis

REBA:I've known about you for a while now.
When he leaves me, he wears a smile now.
As soon as he's away from me,
in your arms is where he wants to be.
LINDA:But you're the one he rushes home to.
You're the one he gave his name to.
I never see his face in the early morning light.
You have his mornings, his daytimes,
and sometimes, I have his nights.

CHORUS:But does he love you(does he love you)
Like he loves me(like he loves me)?
Does he think of you (does he think of you)
When he's holdin' me?
And does he whisper
Does he whisper all his fantasies?
Does he love you(does he love you)
like he's been lovin' me?

LINDA:But when he's with me
He says he needs me
and that he wants me
that he believes in me
REBA:And when i'm in his arms
Oh he swears there's no one else
Is he deceiving me
Or am i deceiving myself?

CHORUS
But does he love you(does he love you)
Like he loves me(like he loves me)?
Does he think of you (does he think of you)
When he's holdin' me?
And does he whisper
Does he whisper all his fantasies?
Does he love you(does he love you)
like he's been lovin' me?

Bridge:
REBA: Oh why shouldn't i lose my temper?
LINDA: Oh why shouldn't i be ashamed?
REBA: Cause i have everything to lose
LINDA: And i, I have nothing to gain.

CHORUS:
But does he love you(does he love you)
Like he loves me(like he loves me)?
Does he think of you (does he think of you)
When he's holdin' me?
And does he whisper
Does he whisper all his fantasies?
Does he love you(does he love you)
like he's been lovin' me?

Live Version with Reba and Linda
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BhvMRt2waYQ
Jamie O'Neil and Carrie Underwood
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRtn2CCChfM

Valentine's Day Eve

This day has been a crazy mess of ups and downs. For the most part though, I think that the ups were due to the amazing things that others did me and the downs have been... well, sort of incidental, the ghosts of past tragedies popping into my mind. Tomorrow, I'll post about the wonderful gifts that my family bestowed on me today, so that I could enjoy them for the whole of Valentine's Day, I really want to post tonight on the other gifts and ghosts of the day.

This is the first holiday without my grandfather. Well, I suppose that isn't really true. New Years was the first holiday without him, but, at that moment, I was still very much too raw and too numb to really feel much of anything. Also, New Years day, my husband and I drove three hours to where he would meet the bus to go back to the military base from which he was deploying. Oh, and there was the horrible bladder infection that I was dealing with at the same time. So, I couldn't really even comprehend New Years as a holiday, much less that it was a holiday without my grandfather. That it was a New Years Eve without the man who'd let me stay up until midnight so that we could watch the ball drop in far away Time's Square so many times when I was a young girl, spending my Christmas break with my grandparents, as he drank his beer and ate his Fritos.

But it wasn't until today that I started to experience what a holiday might be like without this man. This morning, as I was headed out to run some early errands, I opened the Valentine's Day card that my uncle sent to me. It was just a funny, cute little card. But it reminded me that, whether I had a significant other or not, there were always people who loved me and that I never went a Valentine's Day without a card or a present. And I think that was started by my grandfather, who always sent cards to my mother and I and always had a small Valentine's Day present at his house for us whenever we visited closest to the holiday. It was always candy and always had a Snoopy figure somewhere in there. And I don't mean to diminish the cards and presents I've received from other family members, but it always seemed so special and unusual to receive a present on the most romantic of holidays from the man who responded "Me too" when you told him that you loved him. So I opened the card from my uncle and started bawling. As much as I know it was his time and I'm much more at peace with his passing than I would be that of other people's, I do miss him so very much.

But, overall, I had a very productive day. Actually, I probably had the most productive day I've had in quite awhile. I'm sure this is due in no small part to being both more physically and emotionally well than I have been in several weeks. And I'm sure the flowers helped. My last stop of the whole day was Walmart- that bastion of mass consumerism and consumption. It was not until then, at four o'clock in the afternoon, that I noticed that it was a truly beautiful day. Mild weather, sunshine, and, best of all, a clear blue sky. And clear blue skies often lead to one of my favorite daytime phenomenons-- the daytime moon.

And at this I heard the song "Somewhere Out There" from An American Tale in my head. It usually accompanies the daytime moon phenomenon. But when I walked into Wal-mart, I was a little freaked out to hear the song being played. But I was also a little happy. It seemed like the universe was giving me a little hug. So I'd like to thank who or whatever was in charge of that little coincidence. I'm very grateful.

Somewhere Out There by Linday Ronstadt and James Ingram
Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight

Somewhere out there someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star

And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there if love can see us through
Then we'll be together somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star

And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there if love can see us through
Then we'll be together somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

(Ok so it's a horrible video, but a decent song)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRaieyN77UI

Grasping at Straws and Praying for Change

"Nobody said it was easy/No one ever said it would be so hard"- Coldplay

It seems like it would be easy, right? You fall in love. A kind of love that you've never felt. At a time when you didn't want love, weren't looking for love, hell- never thought you'd find love again. But this love blows all the other things that you called love out of the water. And you find that not only can you completely be yourself with this person, but you find yourself actually making use of the things you learned in all the previous past failed relationships in an effort to make this relationship all the better. Instead of wanting to be a specific kind of better person so that you can be more well-matched to this person, you find yourself wanting to be a better person in general, better to your lover, better to the world, but better in ways that expand on who you already are. Your lover also feels the same way.

So you let yourself fall and you get married and the two of you talk about planning the future, despite your true love's impending year-long deployment. But it isn't long before the real world comes breaking into your fairy tale life and reality rears its ugly head. And all of that wanting to be better shit gets lost as you fall back into your old ruts. Ruts built by living a whole life before your partner showed up, by your reactions to the family and enviroment into which you were born. The problem is that you know your rut and you've tried to balance that out. Also, your rut is fairly singularly SELF-destructive and only involves you hating yourself. But your lover grew up in a completely different sort of family and environment than you did, lived in a world that you can barely begin to understand. And when your lover starts to act in ways that hurt you, that make you feel deeply betrayed, all you want to do is find a way to explain their behavior so that maybe that behavior can change and the relationship can be salvaged. (Sidenote: Does it mean that you are trying to "change" that person, to "fix" them? Does it make it any better if you didn't know about that behavior before you had made the BIG commitment, so now the change is only to help sustain the commitment, instead of building yourself the perfect partner?) So, you look at their past and you grasp at straws to find a more reasonable explanation for their behavior than that they are just an irredeemable asshole that you should leave as soon as possible. And you pray for the changes that would allow you to stay because, while all of the betrayals revealed in the last couple of days didn't make you cry, imagining him getting handed the papers that would dissolve the BIG commitment that you made to each other made you bawl like a baby.

On the Adult Children of Addicts
Even more self-defeating,
we became addicted to excitement in all our affairs, preferring constant upset
to workable solutions. ( http://www.adultchildren.org/lit/Problem.s
)

A few of these can be that they:
have to guess what normal
behaviour is in many situations,
have difficulties completing projects,
lie when it is equally simple to tell the truth,
are self-judgmental,
have difficulties having fun,
take themselves very seriously,
have
problems in intimate relationships,
overreact to changes which they can't
control,
are always looking for approval and confirmation,
think they're
different,
are either extremely responsible or extremely irresponsible,
are extremely loyal, also to people who do not deserve it,
are
impulsive.
( http://web4health.info/en/answers/add-adult-children-of-alcoholics.htm
)

To All The Haters Out There [Paramore- Misery Business]

I really like to post songs that I really like, that get into my head and just won't let go, even if I don't really feel like they have any connection to my life at the time. When this song first grabbed ahold of me, it was in November and I was on the fence about the truthfulness of a certain situation but I didn't want to antagonize anyone in said situation by posting this song and having them get the wrong idea. I just liked the song. Ok, so maybe I was feeling alittle bit of the song's sentiments at the time, but I wasn't about to admit it. But now that situation is over, but more women keep crawling out of the woodwork and I find myself feeling the song's sentiments more and more. Funny enough, it isn't really jealousy that I feel. Or possessiveness. I could easily share him. And, if he decided he wanted to be with someone else, though it would be hard, I would accept that as his choice and love him enogh to let him go, to encourage him to be happy. The only thing that really bothers me is that I don't feel like any of these women care about him, that they only look to fuck with his head and his heart, or that they would only use him. But as long as he's with me, I'm going to make sure that "all his wildest dreams come true", whether or not they involve you at all. Though it does feel SO GOOD to know that he has chosen me, over and over again.

Misery Business- Paramore
[Verse 1:]
I'm in the business of misery
Let's take it from the top
She's got a body like an hourglass that's ticking like a clock
It's a matter of time before we all run out
When I thought he was mine she caught him by the mouth.
I waited eight long months
She finally set him free
I told him I couldn't lie he was the only one for me
Two weeks and we'd caught on fire
She's got it out for me
But I wear the biggest smile.

[Chorus:]
Whoaa I never meant to brag
But I got him where I want him now
Whoaa it was never my intention to brag
To steal him all away from you now
-But God does it feel so good
'Cause I got him where I want him now
And if you could then you know you would
'Cause God it just feels so..It just feels so good.

Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change
Once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change
And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged
I'm sorry honey, but I'm passing up, now look this way!
Well, there's a million other girls who do it just like you
Looking as innocent as possible to get to who
They want and what they like it's easy if you do it right
Well I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!

[Chorus:]
Whoaa I never meant to brag
But I got him where I want him now
Whoaa it was never my intention to brag
To steal it all away from you now
-But God does it feel so good
'Cause I got him where I want him right now
And if you could then you know you would
'Cause God it just feels so...It just feels so good.

Bridge:]
I watched his wildest dreams come true
Not one of them involving you
Just watch my wildest dreams come true
Not one of them involving...

Whoaa I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now!

[Chorus:]
Whoaa I never meant to brag
But I got him where I want him now
Whoaa it was never my intention to brag
To steal it all away from you now
-But God does it feel so good
'Cause I got him where I want him now
And if you could then you know you would
'Cause God it just feels so...It just feels so good.

Youtube Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aCyGvGEtOwc

Katie-He's Got Another Girlfriend

I've been contemplating whether or not to post this blog now for several weeks. I would have just come to you in person, but I can't seem to find you through the magic of the internet and I've already warned him that I would tell you if he didn't. I'm sure that this is also done out of some sense of vengence. You would think that my sense of vengence would have been quenched by fooling around with him over the summer, after the Bruce Hornsby concert on the Levy, but, after your comments about why you wanted to come to the funeral, it is suddenly back with a vengence. Maybe I'm lucky enough that he has already broke up with you and come clean. But probably not because he's kinda cowardly when it comes to girls. Heck, I hope his PA girlfriend knows/knew about you. Best of luck to you and I hope a lesson has been learned. Though I'm not exactly sure what that lesson should be or who should be learning it. Tata.

Gone- Chris Cagle

I really like this new country song. And I have a feeling that it's probably a sentiment my husband will be echoing quite a bit. Once he's home at least. Because it doesn't do much good to make a big show of leaving the house to leave him when he's hundreds or thousands of miles away. My mother predicts some knock down drag out fights, once we are living in the same house and I don't exactly doubt her. Then again, in the wisdom of my grandmother, "You don't really love someone unless you can fight with them." I'm sure our grandchildren will have fun telling their own versions of stories that end like the ones I tell about my grandparents, with dented cans and screen doors, with broken plaster fake fruit, with LTDs stuck on the mailbox pole and $600 microwaves---- stories of things that they never saw happen but that have since become family lore. (And yes, BT, since I wrote 'our grandchildren' that means that I haven't thrown all your stuff out or sold it and I haven't filed any papers. Though I'm still pissed and not feeling very trusting right now.)

Gone- Chris Cagle
I heard the door slam and i couldn't tell
was it just the wind or was she mad again
- ah hell
she's gettin in her car
i hollered baby is there something wrong
thought i heard her say something sounding like i'm gone
but these days gone can mean so many things.

chorus: theres gone for good
and theres good and gone
and theres gone with the long before it
i wish she'd been just a little more clear
well theres gone for the day and gone for the night
and gone for the rest of your dog gone life
is it whiskey night or just a couple beers [<---love that line!]
i mean what kind of gone are we talkin bout here

well its gettin dark out, she ain't back yet
ain't called home, turned off the phone
ah man
hah this might not be good
i would have stopped her, when she went to leave
but i didn't 'cause i didn't really think what i'm thinkin now
i'm still not sure what gone is all about

chorus:theres gone for good and theres good and gone
and theres gone with the long before it
i wish she'd been just a little more clear
well theres gone for the day and gone for the night
and gone for the rest of your dog gone life
is it whiskey night or just a couple beers
i mean what kind of gone are we talkin bout here

is it the kind of gone where she's at her mom's cooling down
she'll come around
or the kind that says you had your chance and she ain't comin back

chorus: theres gone for good and theres good and gone
and theres gone with the long before it
i wish she'd been just a little more clear
well theres gone for the day and gone for the night
and gone for the rest of your dog gone life
is it whiskey night or just a couple beers
i mean what kind of gone are we talkin bout
what kinda gone are we talkin bout
what kinda gone are we talkin bout here
what kinda gone

Best youtube I could find at the moment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-75raKEmGoo&feature=related

Hold On- Sarah McLachlan

I knew that I wasn't going to be able to blog much, if at all over the holidays while I was out of town because none of my in-laws have computers or internet connections, so I hoped that I would have a great deal to write about when I got back. And I do. Just not what I thought I'd be writing about. This holiday was much more awful than I ever could have predicted and I'll write more about it soon but I wanted to put up a quick post and this song popped into my head as I was getting out of the shower today so I thought I'd share it with you. If the story I heard was right, Sarah McLachlan wrote it after watching a documentary about a woman who's boyfriend or husband was dying from AIDS complications, though I think the woman herself was HIV-. But I think it can be applied to a great many situations. Enjoy the song. I'm going to try to clean up/ organize/ consolidate some of my husband's stuff so that my family can actually use the exercise room. I figure he won't mind me moving it all around so that he can't find anything, especially since he won't be back for at least 9 months.

Hold On- Sarah McLachlan
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
You know that only time will tell

What is it in me that refuses to believe
This isn't easier than the real thing

My love
You know that you're my best friend
You know I'd do anything for you
My love
Let nothing come between us
My love for you is strong and true

Am I in heaven here or am i...
At the crossroads I am standing

So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
That you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll
See another day and we will praise it
And love the light that brings a smile
Across your face

Oh God if you're out there won't you hear me
I know that we've never talked before
Oh God the man I love is leaving
Won't you take him when he comes to your door

Am I in heaven here or am I in hell
At the crossroads I am standing

So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
That you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll
See another day and we will praise it
And love the light that brings a smile
Across your face...

Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEoaY7YlMxU

A Rant

I should probably first state that I'm taking these four days before I go to meet my new husband's family for the first time for Christmas, of which I am deathly afraid and extremely nervous, to spend with my grandparents. Around Thanksgiving, we kids (my mom, my gay uncle, and I) found out that my grandmother had bought bus tickets for my other uncle, who hasn't been home for over a decade because she wouldn't let him come home as long as he was an addict, and his girlfriend to come visit after my grandmother, crying, told that uncle that she thought it would be my grandfather's last Christmas and he did say that he'd like to see my grandpa. Now, first of all, no doctors have said anything to that effect. Second of all, it could be my last Christmas. Hell, last Christmas could be my last Christmas if I walk out the door and get hit by a car standing in the driveway. Third of all, she did this without making sure that this uncle could get off work. Fourth of all, she did this without thinking to ask us kids how any of us thought about him coming home for Christmas, kinda last minute, without any amends or anything being made for previous wrongs. (This doesn't really apply to me, as I was too young, but I think does really apply to my other uncle.) So, it could be argued that being here could be awkward. And, as I'm here before my mom and other uncle can come for the holiday, I'm on my own to deal with all this. Ok, ok, fine, fine, fine. Awkward, but I can deal.

About a half hour ago, Gram gets up, just like she did all summer when I was here, because she's slept enough in a regular bed and now must sleep in her chair while "The Closer" plays in the background. "You're STILL up?!?" "Yes, Gram." She smokes a cigarette, then comes up behind me while I"m at the computer. "Tomorrow, will you either stay home with Grandpa while I go to Wal-mart or go for me?" "Well, I was going to go pick up some stuff at Target anyway, but I could just as well go to Walmart. Sure.--------- But Gram, if you want to just get out of the house, it's not like Dave and Christine aren't here. They can't really go anywhere." [They don't have driver's licenses or a car here.] "But they're GUESTS here." Thus ends the conversation.

And I sit here and think. And think. And then I start to get mad. My mom and I worked our asses off all summer trying to care for my (other) uncle and my grandparents. Once he was well enough, my other uncle came out as often as he could to help out with things as well. My mom still works her ass off, coming out here almost every other weekend, to do all the shopping for my grandmother on Saturday, after working a full work week, taking care of the house, making sure that I'm not about to kill myself, and driving the four hours out here (and then back the next day). It's not that I mind doing these errands and it's not that I wasn't going out anyway. It's that this uncle gets a pass on the responsibility that the rest of us have had for half this year, longer if you count the last time my grandfather got sick and was in the hospital for several months after the flu kicked his ass or if you count my grandma's knee replacement surgery or her back surgery, that we were all here for and took care of them for. But that is what family does. That's why you have kids!!!! To take care of you when you are too old to take care of yourself. People start their life with their parents changing their diapers and their parents end their life with them changing their diapers. It's the circle of fucking life. And, the more kids you have, the more that responsibility can be spread out. So just because he's been a deadbeat addict for most of his life and he has finally been allowed to come home for Christmas, he should not be devoid of the same responsibility that the rest of us have shouldered while he was away living/wasting his life. Hell, all the more reason why he SHOULD be helping to do these fucking things. Guest? Guest?!? No, fuck that. He's family and he should be acting like it. And she should be making him. She makes the rest of us.

Oh, and she won't let the rest of us drink because of him. To paraphrase my mother and my other uncle, "How the fuck does she expect us to get through 3-4 days there if we can't fucking drink? That's bullshit!"

Oh, yeah, and, just for good measure, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

Just for you Sir

Remeber when we were trying to find this song to put on a CD for me? Half of those fucking CDs didn't even come out because your Dad's CD burner was going out. I think the only one that actually came out right was the Slow Dance CD, which is still one of my favorite mix disks ever. But I was on a youtube streak and found this one so I thought I'd share it with you. You know, I think hearing this song way back then made me realize we'd never make it? Because I'd always want to be the one calling you to come to Boston or Denver or LA and you'd never want to leave home. Kinda funny to look at where we are now, huh?

Please Come To Boston- Dave Loggins
Please come to Boston for the springtime
I'm staying here with some friends
And they've got lots of room
You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk
By a caf矷here I hope to be working soon
Please come to Boston
She said no, boy you come home to me

She said hey ramblin' boy, why don't you settle down
Boston ain't your kinda town
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee

Please come to Denver to see the snowfall
We'll move up into the mountains so far that we can't be found
Throw I love you echoes down the canyon
And then lie awake at night til they come back around
Please come to Denver
She said no, boy you come home to me

She said hey ramblin' boy, why don't you settle down
Denver ain't your kinda town
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee

Now this drifter's world goes 'round and 'round
And I doubt if it's ever gonna stop
And of all the dreams I've lost and found
And all that I ain't got
I need someone to cling to
Somebody I can sing to

Please come to L.A. to live forever
A California life alone is just too hard to LIVE
WE'LL live in a house that looks out over the ocean
There's some stars that fell from the sky livin up on a hill
Please come to L.A.
She said no, boy you come home to me

She said hey ramblin' boy, why don't you settle down
L.A. ain't your kinda town
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee

I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee

Original http://youtube.com/watch?v=1PX5t9VJweQ
Kenny Chesney (country artist) http://youtube.com/watch?v=JgP1t_Ydeag&feature=related

There Is No Arizona

I was reminded of this song when someone else used the title as the title of one of their blog posts and it really made me think of Mon Parrain. Earlier in the week, I was going through some old text messages that I hadn't deleted from my phone and i came upon his last texts to me. They were on November 9th. Ironically, that was also the one month anniversary of my marriage. I suppose I was never really promised anything, persay, but I always felt like he offered the promise that I could have a new and better life if I just hung around long enough to really learn from him. And everytime I think about his complete disappearance from my life, so sudden and without any good-bye, I'm reminded of two very contradictory things that he often said to me. One was that he didn't just up and leave his friends, but the other one was that everyone should feel like they are free to just walk away from a person or a situation if it was either in that person's best interest or their own best interests, without anything more being done or said. I have to assume that he did the latter.
What's really poignant to me in this song is how she finally responds to the people around her, telling them what she has finally figured out. I have the same experience. There are things that my husband knew I wanted to do with Mon Parrain, things that were especially special to Mon Parrain and I. When I try casually to make plans to do those things with my husband, my husband always brings up "But what about Mon Parrain?", as if he's defending Mon Parrain, or vicariously offended for Mon Parrain that I would bring up doing this thing with him instead. And I finally just had to tell my husband that he's not coming back, that there is no Arizona. I'm not really sure if it was harder for me to have to put that into words for the first time or harder for my husband to realize what that meant to me, how that broke my heart. But, here's the song and the youtube. It's a good song, even though it's going to make me cry for the second time tonight.

There Is No Arizona- Jamie O'Neal
http://youtube.com/watch?v=22tktN87ASk
He promised her a new and better life, out in Arizona
Underneath the blue never ending sky, swore that he was gonna
Get things in order, he'd send for her
When he left her behind, it never crossed her mind

There is no Arizona
No Painted Desert, no Sedona
If there was a Grand Canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
But they don't exist, those dreams he sold her
She'll wake up and find
There is no Arizona

She got a postcard with no return address, postmarked Tombstone
It said "I don't know where I'm goin' next but when I do
I'll let you know"May, June, July, she wonders why
She's still waiting, she'll keep waiting 'cause

There is no Arizona
No Painted Desert, no Sedona
If there was a Grand Canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
But they don't exist, those dreams he sold her
She'll wake up and find
There is no Arizona

Each day the sun sets into the west
Her heart sinks lower in her chest and
Friends keep asking when she's going
Finally she tells them don't you know

There is no Arizona
No Painted Desert, no Sedona
If there was a Grand Canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
But they don't exist, those dreams he sold her
She'll wake up and find
There is no Arizona

He promised her a new and better life, out in Arizona

Fucking John Mayer!

So I’m sitting here, flipping through channels on this Saturday night, just managing to come out of the funk that’s kept me in bed for the past three days, and I stumble upon his latest Austin City Limits performance, which is mostly just stuff from his latest album Continuum. Now, I love John Mayer but this probably wasn’t be best night to get me all introspective and shit. I probably should have picked out a big-budget movie from the box of cloned DVDs that I haven’t watched yet and seen some shit blown up. But as soon as I hit on him singing “Belief”, I knew that I had to write a blog post. For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking that I should write something for my blogs but I couldn’t really come up with anything ‘appropriate’ to write. I’m sure regular readers of my blog are wondering what I might write that I would consider inappropriate, but it isn’t really about me. A great deal of it is about other people, people that I don’t want to hurt or endanger by writing my truths and my feelings.

But listening to him sing “Belief” brought up something that I probably should write about, something that I might be in a unique position to write about, though I don’t claim that my position is right or wrong-it’s simply mine.

While I’ve always had a passing interest in politics and a passing idea of what was going on in this country and a slight idea about things in the rest of the world, I started paying more attention to the bigger picture (i.e. things other than just those issues that directly effected me and mine) after 9/11, though mostly because of Sir’s interest in those things. It brought me another thing with which I could discuss with Sir in a semi-intellectual manner. Fortunately, this interest in politics didn’t go away when Sir and I broke up. Actually, it allowed me to more freely express and pursue my political ideas, which were and are much more liberal than Sir’s are.

But it is in this context that I assessed and constantly reassessed my beliefs and feelings about the current Iraq War. But no matter how much information I have read, I always feel like I’m coming up short. I feel like I still don’t have enough information to make an informed decision. In my mind, I would think that any leader and/or politician without an agenda might feel the same, though they do probably have some information not available to the general public. From the beginning, I really didn’t know if I felt the United States (and our Coalition of the Willing) should start a war in Iraq. And as we have not found any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and fighting continues in Iraq, which gets closer and closer to civil war, it becomes harder and harder to support this particular war. And, while it has never been one of my favorite songs on the Continuum album, I think that “Belief” does bring out that sort of ambivalence about the war, about anything that is supported by ‘belief’ because everyone believes in something and no one is just going to change their mind because someone else yells louder. In the song, belief is not necessarily good or bad: “Belief is a beautiful armor/ But makes for the heaviest sword.”
But what really gets to me, especially now, comes at the end of the song. “We're never gonna win the world/ We're never gonna stop the war/ We're never gonna beat this/ If belief is what we're fighting for//What puts a hundred thousand children in the sand?/ Belief can/ Belief can/ What puts the folded flag inside his mother's hand?/ Belief can/ Belief can.” On the one hand, I recognize that ‘the war’, especially what radio commentator Michael Savage would call the War on Islamofascism, or hell, any fight that is based on beliefs, will never truly be won. But I also don’t think that our politicians keep us involved in two wars overseas that aren’t going very well because they believe it is the right thing to do or because they believe that they are making the world a better place. Personally I believe that the only things they consider are their political futures, their bank accounts and the bank accounts of their friends.

And, despite feeling this for quite awhile, despite knowing that this war was/is killing children, not only Iraqi and Afgani children in the war zones, but also our children, the 18 year old boy- and girl-soldiers that we are sending to do our dirty work, despite knowing that pretty much everyday at least one U.S. mother loses a child to this war, I never really cared. I have to admit that I was just as ambivalent to it as everyone else. The first song on and the first single from Mayer’s Continuum is “Waiting for the World to Change”. In it, he discusses how people of his generation are viewed as uninvolved but he tries to give reasons for this, saying that people of his generation, and I think people of my generation as well, feel disempowered. Even my mom identifies with the lines “And when you trust your television/ What you get is what you got/ Cause when they own the information, oh/ They can bend it all they want.”

So, why do I care now? Why do I feel like I should write about my ambivalence now? Because now I’m a soldier’s wife. I’m the wife of a soldier who is leaving for Iraq in less than a month. That child buried in the sand would be my husband, who’s never really grown up, who has a foot-locker full of Star Wars figures. That folded flag would be in my hands. The night I met him, he told me that he would be shipping out in January, so I knew from the start of our relationship. But it wasn’t until a few nights after we were married that I ever knew how he felt about the war he was going to fight or the man who was ordering him to fight it. As a pinko, liberal, queer, feminist, etc, etc, I never got into a discussion with this man who I was having amazing sex with about his political beliefs, mostly because I was afraid of finding out that he was a hardcore neoconservative. And I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t support him or what he was going to do, because I do support him. I have a great deal of respect for him, for any and all men and women who choose to fight for our country, especially because I know it is something that I could not do, for many reasons. Imagine my surprise when my new husband revealed that he did not believe in this war and that he doesn’t like his Commander-in-Chief, but that he asked for this deployment because his military brothers and sisters were out there fighting and he should be as well. And, for as hard as it is sometimes, I will do everything and anything in my power to support him as he is fighting.

But that doesn’t mean that I think we should just continue to fight, ad infinitum, in Iraq, especially as it seems that nothing is getting better, but I don’t have any answers. Should we “cut-and-run”? Should we put even more of our soldiers there to stabilize the region? I don’t have these answers. I’m just the wife of a soldier who is proud of how well-trained he is but would be much happier if he never had to use that training.

[Oh, and why I titled this “Fucking John Mayer” is because I started this right after he sang one of those songs that I can never hear without crying- “Stop This Train”. I have a previous post with this song in it, but no matter what I’m going through, it speaks to something in my life at that point. I could never sing this song in concert. Hell, he didn’t seem like he could make it through the song without a few tears. I suppose for me, I have a great deal of reasons why I would like to “stop this train” and keep things like they are. And so I started crying. Then, he followed it up with the other song on Continuum which makes me cry a good deal of the time, “Gravity”. So, fucking John Mayer: making me cry! Oh, but I love him so!]

This Is Not Part 3

I'm sure all my regular readers are waiting in breathless anticipation for part three of the story of how I got married. But I just haven't really had the heart to write to it. I know I should be excited to tell of our adventurous drive out to Nevada and the wonderful heady time we had getting married and just being in love in that crazy desert city. It should be one of the easiest stories to tell, full of happiness and fulfillment.

But real life doesn't work out that way, right? We were married on Tuesday. On Saturday, after returning to my house, my new husband drove out to pick up some of his stuff from his now-former home at the crazy communal house in the nearby college town. I decided to stay at home, avoid the possible drama. Just like me, before we were married, he was not monogamous, had a "friends with benefits" relationship. And he had not really ended the relationship before we ran off to Vegas. Before he returned to the house, he called me. "Well, I have bad news and just kinda bad news. The kinda bad news is that you might have to come get my stuff without me, while I'm away in training, because they don't know if they want the liability of having my stuff here." "Ok. No problem. My dad and I can do that if we need to. What's the really bad news?" "K says she's pregnant."

It's not anyone's fault really. As my mom is fond of saying about unintended pregnancies, shit happens. All it takes is one time without birth control or a missed pill or a broken condom and *poof* pregnancy. There was no unfaithfulness. There was no lying. Though he hasn't said it, I know that he is just as scared as any other guy who finds out that he is about to become a dad, even if he wants children. As for her.... how can I be angry at another young woman who is scared and alone carrying the child of someone who is not only married to someone else, but who is leaving the country in a few months and, Goddess forbid, might not come back?

But this is no way to start a marriage. It was crazy enough to run off to marry a man who would be leaving to train to fight out of country for a year less than a week after the wedding. But knowing that while he is out of country, less than an hour away his child is gestating in the body of another woman, to be born without him there to see it....it sometimes feels like too much. Definately too much to handle and write a celebratory post about my nuptials.