"Our D-I-V-O-R-C-E becomes final today."-Tammy Wynette
October 2007 to February 2009. That is as long as my marriage lasted. It's bittersweet.
I've been trying to pickup and organize my living space (basement) lately, a little at a time. Last night, I finally got around to putting honeymoon pictures into the photo albums I'd bought for my mom and I. Yeah, I've been either distracted or lazy for at least a year. I had put photos into albums for BT's grandmother and mother, even sent a small album overseas to BT himself, just never got around to doing my own. And I'm guessing Mom won't want hers now, but I wanted to get it done and then put away. It was nice to remember that short but amazing time we were together, the things I probably never would have done without him, but they were just memories.
I tried to get to bed early. That didn't work so well, but I still got myself up early to get ready for court. Shower. Dress. Passed up wearing the black dress slacks that I got married in. Put on a necklace and perfume bought with love by someone else, makeshift amulets to protect my heart and spirit. Make-up to cover the acne caused by the new drugs and to make myself look more serious in front of the judge. I snap several pictures of myself before I go, to see if I look different after all of this is done.
Alone, by my own choice, I drove to the courthouse, parked, found the courtroom, and a seat in the gallery. It wasn't quite traffic court. More glossy wood than that. But not quite the courtroom of "Law & Order" either. I was early. I was trembling, shaking, nervous. I'd never been in a courtroom before. Settled in with a Newsweek on top of the bright yellow folder that held all my divorce documents, the signed decree of divorce that had arrived just the day before in the mail.
The judge was an older, slim, white haired gentleman, infinitely patient with the people who's cases were before him. Very few people had lawyers. The two cases before me were uncontested cases where only one party came to wrap things up, just as mine was. Just give the decree to the judge to sign and the settlement to him to review. Take the stand to answer his questions, full names, where and when the marriage occured, affirm incompatability, is the wife returning to her former name, do you think the settlement is fair and equable, thank you. Then file the papers with the clerk and send a copy to the other party.
It was pretty easy, all things considered, easier than many folks' divorces. Probably because we are both broke and poor and don't have children together. On the other hand, I have to say I feel like it shouldn't be easier to get into this contract than it is to get out of it. Then again, hopeless romantic that I am, I am a huge supporter of prenuptual agreements. Make arrangements when you love each other, to avoid fighting even more once you hate each other.
I left the courthouse feeling slightly more free and much more settled. I have a certain amount of closure, even though I'll always have unanswerable questions. I rode back home, listening to Ani, who he claimed was just another man-hating feminist singer, in response to my distaste for the unflattering, only-good-for-sex picture that one of the musical groups he liked painted of women. *Sigh* But it's over now. Back to the life that is my new normal. Change out of my dressy court clothes, so that I can do some yard work. I have to pick up more shit. Only this shit is from the four-legged variety of dog. It's smellier, but less emotionally toxic.
Showing posts with label things done. Show all posts
Showing posts with label things done. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Done With His Move
Today I moved BT's stuff out of my folks' house. While I did have quite a bit of help, I still feel like I did a great deal of it myself. While the money was his, and rightly so as it is his stuff, I made the reservations and rented the truck in my name and on my debit card. I do have to give major props to TyRoy for getting up hella early on a Saturday, skipping his pancakes, and helping me pack up the truck. Also, big props go to BT's friends and landladies who practically unloaded the truck themselves while also being very very nice to me, despite all that is going on.
BUT I'm super proud of myself for all the driving and parking of the big scary truck. While I know that I probably scared some fellow drivers out there today, I did park the truck myself, including backing it up to my house completely unassisted.
I even took pics from either side so show that I was "in the lines" of our driveway. (Only half of the full concrete drive you see is "ours" while the other half belongs to the other side of the duplex.)
Of course, the day was not without its problems. I did alot of crying. I also fell off the back of the truck and did a face plant in front of BT's friends. Now my right shoulder and ass cheek are pretty sore. But, for the most part, I did this myself, or at least with my own inititive and planning. I think I deserve a big hug and lots of kisses and, if I could give them to myself, I would. When we have to be strong, we can be.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
From June 11 To July 6
I guess I don't even know where to start right now. It's been quite a while since I've blogged and my life has been a weird series of ups and downs, some that I expected and many that I didn't.
One of the hardest things but also the thing that I'm most ambivalent about is the reoccurance of my uncle's cancer. He was diagnosed with a rare type of sarcoma (tumor) May 2007 and had radical surgery June 2007. My mom and my uncle's boyfriend went with him while he got his surgery and recovered. (He went up to the Mayo Clinic in MN, which is about 10 hours away from where we live because they have the best program for that type of cancer.) At the time, I stayed with my grandparents because my grandfather had just had a stroke and I was the only one able to really stay with them, so I was useless to my uncle but I was useful to my grandparents. They thought they got all the tumor but apparently not because he had to get another surgery THIS June and then radiation (which is tiring but not too bad). But he was having a great deal of pain in his back. (The original sarcoma was in his chest so they expected it to say in that area. Apparently they were wrong.) The pain in his chest was from another sarcoma. Now they want to do chemo. Nothing has been decided yet but....I just feel useless. All I want to do when I think about it is cry, so I'm probably not much use in talking to him. Everyone in my family went to see him last weekend but I couldn't go because I had bronchitis and I didn't want to spread it to all the other cancer patients there. I'm hoping to get to visit him sometime this week when I'm not working but.... He's so young!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can he be so sick!
My health isn't going so great either. Just after my birthday, I got a really REALLY bad stomach bug. I had to go to the ER because I couldn't stop puking and everytime I puked, I shit too, so I was pretty sure I was getting dehydrated. After the stomach flu stopped, I got the head cold that TyRoy and my mom both had because my immune system was weak. That turned into bronchitis. Which was a lot of fun. At least I have to give props to TyRoy because he didn't turn away from he gross stuff and he took care of me as best as he could. While I know that BT doesn't like him (and BT would have done an even more subservient job), TyRoy really did take care of me.
The other health problem is even more gross and I'm not even sure I want to talk about it here, but maybe it will help others feel not so bad about it when it happens to them. Well, as most of you know, I got my gallbladder taken out in September 2007. I was really happy with that for a while. I didn't have the pain or the thowing up or the diarehea. But what your gallbladder does is store extra bile, which helps to break down extra fat that your liver can't handle all by itself. I was warned by the doctors and by other people that had their gallbladders taken out that for 3-6 months I would experience pretty quick diarehea when I ate really greasy or really really rich food. Well, I didn't have too much trouble those first 6 months. But in the last 3 months, well, I can't eat anything without getting rid off it right away. Even when I don't eat ANYTHING, I sometimes get rid of something. Last Tuesday was the final straw. I was running errands and I almost didn't make it to the bathroom at my first stop (a bookstore). But I did make it and I thought it was over. All done. NOPE!!!!!!!!!!! Twenty minutes later, I'm in the middle of the local Walmart and it hits me that I realize I have to go to the bathroom. RIGHT NOW. Needless to say, I didn't make it and I shit myself in the middle of the Walmart store. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up as best as I could before I left the store. It was the most embarrassing moment I can remember ever. Luckily, I had my yearly physical Thursday and my doctor said that it was a lack of fiber and that I'm going to have to take fiber supplements for the rest of my life and eat lots of fruits and veggies for the rest of my life. Now, I don't know about you but I always thought that fiber supplements were for people who were constipated and that too many fruits and veggies would lead to diarrehea. But I guess not. I guess I'll just listen to my doctor for now. If it doesn't work, I'll go back to their morning walk-in clinic and crap myself there.
Then, there is the divorce. I filed the papers the day before my birthday and mailed them ON my birthday. Yes, another lovely birthday for Ava. I got the papers in the mail earlier this month saying that our court date is set for August 20th. It's pretty amicable and everything was agreed on before I filled out the papers so it should be pretty easy. The saddest part of it all is that I still love him very much and I know that he still loves me very much, even though we are trying to move on with our lives. I'm living with TyRoy and he's seriously talking to a woman he met on the internet. They are even talking about getting married when he gets back. I hope that everything works out well for them and that they don't have the same money problems that we did. Actually, in a weird bit of irony, the first paycheck he DIDN'T overdraw since we've been together was the first one AFTER I filed for divorce. Oh well.
Things with TyRoy are going pretty well. Most of the time, we are just kinda an old married couple. Especially since my latest birth control has robbed me of my sex drive and my wetness. (I just got a new one. I hope it works better.) The biggest thing about me living here was that I had to have a job or be working on finding a job. I have done that. I worked a temp job for a couple weeks. After that, I was sick but I got a job RIGHT after I got better. It will even work with school, which I have signed up for. I haven't asked him for any money, even though he pays the bills at the house. (Bills that he would pay whether I was here or not. I try to pitch in on the groceries but he doesn't really accept it. But at least I try.) BUT I still haven't figured out how to fight with him though. He didn't just shuts down and I can't get anything out of him and he says that nothing is wrong, though there obviously is, at least in my opinion. I felt so useless between the job (managers suck and make you feel bad) and not being able to help with the family and not being able to do anything with TyRoy that I just gave up. I called in with a family emergency (everyone knows that my uncle is sick) and I took a bunch of pills. Let me tell you though--- 120 .5 Clonazepam doesn't do anything! I could still fucking drive!. Next time I'm jumping off an overpass!
Well, I guess I'll end on a happy note. My job right now is as the cashier for the valet parking. I work Wednesday through Saturday nights. Today, I got up early, dressed, ran errands so that I would have a cooler, cold drinks, some protein, a personal cash tray, etc, etc, and get to work early so that I could park where they wanted me to (they keep changing where I"m supposed to park-assholes). I got there 30 minutes early. None of my valets were there or my managers. Finally I called my boss. Me: "Hey, where is everyone?" Boss:"We don't work on Sundays." Me: "Yeah, but it's Saturday." Boss: "No, it's Sunday." Only Valet there: "No, it's Sunday." Me: "Fuck. Sorry." Working these crazy hours has me all fucked up. BUT at least I have a job.
Thanks for listening. Comment if you want.
One of the hardest things but also the thing that I'm most ambivalent about is the reoccurance of my uncle's cancer. He was diagnosed with a rare type of sarcoma (tumor) May 2007 and had radical surgery June 2007. My mom and my uncle's boyfriend went with him while he got his surgery and recovered. (He went up to the Mayo Clinic in MN, which is about 10 hours away from where we live because they have the best program for that type of cancer.) At the time, I stayed with my grandparents because my grandfather had just had a stroke and I was the only one able to really stay with them, so I was useless to my uncle but I was useful to my grandparents. They thought they got all the tumor but apparently not because he had to get another surgery THIS June and then radiation (which is tiring but not too bad). But he was having a great deal of pain in his back. (The original sarcoma was in his chest so they expected it to say in that area. Apparently they were wrong.) The pain in his chest was from another sarcoma. Now they want to do chemo. Nothing has been decided yet but....I just feel useless. All I want to do when I think about it is cry, so I'm probably not much use in talking to him. Everyone in my family went to see him last weekend but I couldn't go because I had bronchitis and I didn't want to spread it to all the other cancer patients there. I'm hoping to get to visit him sometime this week when I'm not working but.... He's so young!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can he be so sick!
My health isn't going so great either. Just after my birthday, I got a really REALLY bad stomach bug. I had to go to the ER because I couldn't stop puking and everytime I puked, I shit too, so I was pretty sure I was getting dehydrated. After the stomach flu stopped, I got the head cold that TyRoy and my mom both had because my immune system was weak. That turned into bronchitis. Which was a lot of fun. At least I have to give props to TyRoy because he didn't turn away from he gross stuff and he took care of me as best as he could. While I know that BT doesn't like him (and BT would have done an even more subservient job), TyRoy really did take care of me.
The other health problem is even more gross and I'm not even sure I want to talk about it here, but maybe it will help others feel not so bad about it when it happens to them. Well, as most of you know, I got my gallbladder taken out in September 2007. I was really happy with that for a while. I didn't have the pain or the thowing up or the diarehea. But what your gallbladder does is store extra bile, which helps to break down extra fat that your liver can't handle all by itself. I was warned by the doctors and by other people that had their gallbladders taken out that for 3-6 months I would experience pretty quick diarehea when I ate really greasy or really really rich food. Well, I didn't have too much trouble those first 6 months. But in the last 3 months, well, I can't eat anything without getting rid off it right away. Even when I don't eat ANYTHING, I sometimes get rid of something. Last Tuesday was the final straw. I was running errands and I almost didn't make it to the bathroom at my first stop (a bookstore). But I did make it and I thought it was over. All done. NOPE!!!!!!!!!!! Twenty minutes later, I'm in the middle of the local Walmart and it hits me that I realize I have to go to the bathroom. RIGHT NOW. Needless to say, I didn't make it and I shit myself in the middle of the Walmart store. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up as best as I could before I left the store. It was the most embarrassing moment I can remember ever. Luckily, I had my yearly physical Thursday and my doctor said that it was a lack of fiber and that I'm going to have to take fiber supplements for the rest of my life and eat lots of fruits and veggies for the rest of my life. Now, I don't know about you but I always thought that fiber supplements were for people who were constipated and that too many fruits and veggies would lead to diarrehea. But I guess not. I guess I'll just listen to my doctor for now. If it doesn't work, I'll go back to their morning walk-in clinic and crap myself there.
Then, there is the divorce. I filed the papers the day before my birthday and mailed them ON my birthday. Yes, another lovely birthday for Ava. I got the papers in the mail earlier this month saying that our court date is set for August 20th. It's pretty amicable and everything was agreed on before I filled out the papers so it should be pretty easy. The saddest part of it all is that I still love him very much and I know that he still loves me very much, even though we are trying to move on with our lives. I'm living with TyRoy and he's seriously talking to a woman he met on the internet. They are even talking about getting married when he gets back. I hope that everything works out well for them and that they don't have the same money problems that we did. Actually, in a weird bit of irony, the first paycheck he DIDN'T overdraw since we've been together was the first one AFTER I filed for divorce. Oh well.
Things with TyRoy are going pretty well. Most of the time, we are just kinda an old married couple. Especially since my latest birth control has robbed me of my sex drive and my wetness. (I just got a new one. I hope it works better.) The biggest thing about me living here was that I had to have a job or be working on finding a job. I have done that. I worked a temp job for a couple weeks. After that, I was sick but I got a job RIGHT after I got better. It will even work with school, which I have signed up for. I haven't asked him for any money, even though he pays the bills at the house. (Bills that he would pay whether I was here or not. I try to pitch in on the groceries but he doesn't really accept it. But at least I try.) BUT I still haven't figured out how to fight with him though. He didn't just shuts down and I can't get anything out of him and he says that nothing is wrong, though there obviously is, at least in my opinion. I felt so useless between the job (managers suck and make you feel bad) and not being able to help with the family and not being able to do anything with TyRoy that I just gave up. I called in with a family emergency (everyone knows that my uncle is sick) and I took a bunch of pills. Let me tell you though--- 120 .5 Clonazepam doesn't do anything! I could still fucking drive!. Next time I'm jumping off an overpass!
Well, I guess I'll end on a happy note. My job right now is as the cashier for the valet parking. I work Wednesday through Saturday nights. Today, I got up early, dressed, ran errands so that I would have a cooler, cold drinks, some protein, a personal cash tray, etc, etc, and get to work early so that I could park where they wanted me to (they keep changing where I"m supposed to park-assholes). I got there 30 minutes early. None of my valets were there or my managers. Finally I called my boss. Me: "Hey, where is everyone?" Boss:"We don't work on Sundays." Me: "Yeah, but it's Saturday." Boss: "No, it's Sunday." Only Valet there: "No, it's Sunday." Me: "Fuck. Sorry." Working these crazy hours has me all fucked up. BUT at least I have a job.
Thanks for listening. Comment if you want.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Birthday Celebrations
How I've Celebrated So Far:
Last Saturday-
*Went shopping with my Mom for clothes. (Alot of the Tshirts I've been wearing are BT's and I'm giving them back as part of the divorce so I thought I could use a couple more. And I bought my shorts last summer when I was 30-40 lbs lighter than I am right now so I needed some shorts that didn't cut off my circulation)
*Went out to Joe's Crab Shack for late lunch with Mom. (She thought I might like to go out to a fancier place but I'm pretty happy with any place that isn't fast food or Applebee's, as that's all that is in the smaller military town TyRoy lives in, where I've been staying with him.)
*Watched "Mr. Brooks" at my folks' house while I did laundry (I really can't wait to get a washer and dryer here!)
After midnight- *Sex
So far today-
*Therapy (Really like my therapist)
*Mailed off my divorce papers :(
*Spent time with my folks' dogs (letting the puppy, who just got spayed and was in a cage 24 hours at the vet's, out to play a little)
*Ate lunch with my mom
Currently- *Watching "Firefly" on DVD, copying DVDs for myself, BT, & TyRoy, playing around on the internets
Planned for later today-
*Drinking
*TyRoy is taking me to Dave & Buster's for food, video games, and more drinking
*TyRoy is taking me to see "The Strangers"
Planned for much later-
*Tim McGraw concert with Mom, my uncle's boyfriend, and Cassie
*Traveling to where my uncle is staying for his radiation treatment to celebrate my birthday and my uncle's boyfriend's birthday (which is later this month)
I'm celebrating all month long!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
May Resolutions
I think I'm going to stop drinking alcohol for awhile.
Don't get me wrong- I don't drink very much alcohol to begin with anyway. When I'm at home or at a friend's house, I might have a six-pack of something girlie, but I don't usually get completely stupid. If I'm drinking in public, I drink even less than that. And I probably only drink, at most, 4 nights a week. Overall, I'm pretty conscious of how much I drink, how often I drink, and under what circumstances I drink because I know that alcoholism (and other addictions) run in my family. In my opinion, I haven't really had any problems with alcohol since my teens when I was just stupid about stuff for a while, though I never got into any legal, or even parental, trouble over it.
But something has changed resently. First of all, I never NEVER used to get hangovers. Now I have an all day headache after drinking so little that I didn't even get a buzz. But the really bad part is that drinking alcohol lately has resulted in a wild mood swing, and not the good kind. After even just one or two alcoholic drinks, I am sad, depressed, and cry-ified. (Cry-ified is a term I came up with to describe a temporary condition I have in which I cry for no apparent reason, with no real control over it.) I also become kinda bitchy.
I assume this change in how alcohol effects me has something to do with my recent change in anti-depressant medication. I have to admit that both my anti-depressant medication and my anti-anxiety medication warn against mixing the medications with alcohol, though both say that the medications may intensify the affects of the alcohol while not prohibiting the use of alcohol. I'm sure that the next time I see my medicine prescribing psychiatrist I'll talk to him about it, but, until then, and maybe after that, I think I'd rather not drink alcohol because I don't really need anything else making me sad, depressed, cryified, and bitchy. I have those covered all on my own, thankyouverymuch.
So, bye-bye alcohol. We've had a good friendship for quite a while, but I have to take some time off for now. I hope you understand.
Don't get me wrong- I don't drink very much alcohol to begin with anyway. When I'm at home or at a friend's house, I might have a six-pack of something girlie, but I don't usually get completely stupid. If I'm drinking in public, I drink even less than that. And I probably only drink, at most, 4 nights a week. Overall, I'm pretty conscious of how much I drink, how often I drink, and under what circumstances I drink because I know that alcoholism (and other addictions) run in my family. In my opinion, I haven't really had any problems with alcohol since my teens when I was just stupid about stuff for a while, though I never got into any legal, or even parental, trouble over it.
But something has changed resently. First of all, I never NEVER used to get hangovers. Now I have an all day headache after drinking so little that I didn't even get a buzz. But the really bad part is that drinking alcohol lately has resulted in a wild mood swing, and not the good kind. After even just one or two alcoholic drinks, I am sad, depressed, and cry-ified. (Cry-ified is a term I came up with to describe a temporary condition I have in which I cry for no apparent reason, with no real control over it.) I also become kinda bitchy.
I assume this change in how alcohol effects me has something to do with my recent change in anti-depressant medication. I have to admit that both my anti-depressant medication and my anti-anxiety medication warn against mixing the medications with alcohol, though both say that the medications may intensify the affects of the alcohol while not prohibiting the use of alcohol. I'm sure that the next time I see my medicine prescribing psychiatrist I'll talk to him about it, but, until then, and maybe after that, I think I'd rather not drink alcohol because I don't really need anything else making me sad, depressed, cryified, and bitchy. I have those covered all on my own, thankyouverymuch.
So, bye-bye alcohol. We've had a good friendship for quite a while, but I have to take some time off for now. I hope you understand.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
In the past 36 hours....
In the past 36 hours, I've.....
But as life seems to be settling down to some semblance of a new normal, at least until I get a job, I'll probably be posting more.
- twisted my ankle
- shit my pants
- cut an ingrown claw on one cat while he howled like I was killing him
- glued my right index and middle finger together
- had my parents' dog attack the cat carrier to help the cats escape
- drove in a car with cat shit
- given mini-baths to both my cats to get the shit off them
- cleaned the shit out of the cat carrier
- had to give one cat another bath after he sat down in the litter box for an hour while still wet, during which he also howled like I was killing him
But as life seems to be settling down to some semblance of a new normal, at least until I get a job, I'll probably be posting more.
Monday, January 28, 2008
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.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
How I Got Married, Part 1
Part 1: St. Louis and Tattoos
As most people know by now, I got married Tuesday, October 9th, in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was a very sudden decision, though I think, obviously, that it was the right one. Ever since I left to get married, I have wanted to write the blog entries that would explain what had happened in my life to get me to a place where I would run off to Vegas with a man (yes, a MAN) that I’d only known for two months to get married. Some explanation other than just being crazy.
If I said it started with the trip to St Louis, I’d probably be lying. During the first weekend I spent with Boy Toy, I SAW us getting married before he deployed for Iraq. Intuition isn’t quite the right word, but it is the first one that comes to mind. I can even picture in my mind’s eye where we were when I knew it. But from that moment on, I tried to do everything I could to not give in to that idea. I tried not to act at all girlfriend-y, tried not to call very much, and I saw plenty of other people, all of which he knew about. But he still wanted to make it more serious than we had planned, by asking me to start dating seriously before he deployed, which wasn’t part of his plan, or mine.
Then, I really overstepped. The Sunday before the trip, I had a serious depressive episode. Boy Toy was back in College Town, packing up all his stuff so that he’d be ready to leave for training. I called him to “say good-bye”, but I also told him that I loved him. I put on it the caveat that I didn’t expect him to feel the same, much less say anything back. And he didn’t say it back, just that he did care for me and that he didn’t want this to be the end of anything. I found out later that he had his own intuition. He felt that I would be fine in the end and that the only thing he could really do to help me was to put a protection spell on me and continue with his packing.
Basically, this brings us up to speed for the trip to St Louis. While BT and I were putting bags in the car, he told me that he knew he would say what I had said (“I love you”) soon, but that he just didn’t want to say it without fully meaning it, etc, etc. I sorta laughed it off, telling him that he really shouldn’t worry about saying anything at anytime. But we were barely out of the metro area before he whispered “I love you” in my ear as we cuddled in the backseat while my poor mother drove.
That was the start of the back and forth that continued all weekend. One of us would put something out there that we had been afraid of telling the other, only to find that, not only did the other person share that feeling, but that the other person wanted to take it a step farther. One example involves the tattoos that we ended up getting. Friday night in the car, BT said that he wanted to get me something with the emblem of a crow on it, as a symbol of protection, a symbol of constant return even beyond death. That we would return to each other no matter what. I thought it was really sweet. As we went to sleep that night, I asked him where would be the best place to get a tattoo of protection, thinking specifically of getting a crow. His answer was the back because you can’t watch it yourself. Saturday morning when I told him about my desire to get it as a tattoo on my back, he jumped at the idea to find designs from the internet when we got to my grandma’s later that day. When he brought me the pictures he’d printed from online, he even went a step farther, asking what I would think of putting a heartogram in the center of the crow design, especially as he was thinking of getting a heartogram as well. I could see he was testing something with it. So I raised him, asking him what he thought about me getting the head colored in green, for his eyes. We both got our tats together that night.
It was the same with most things over the weekend, which is how we went from planning on seriously dating when he got back to moving in together to getting married in December when he was home on Christmas Exodus before he deploys. He even did the whole proposal thing on his knees in front of my family on Sunday morning before we left St. Louis. And, despite the fact that my mom barely talked to us the whole trip back, we were all smiles and lovey-dovey-ness.
Thus closes out the first part of our story.
My Tat
His Tat
As most people know by now, I got married Tuesday, October 9th, in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was a very sudden decision, though I think, obviously, that it was the right one. Ever since I left to get married, I have wanted to write the blog entries that would explain what had happened in my life to get me to a place where I would run off to Vegas with a man (yes, a MAN) that I’d only known for two months to get married. Some explanation other than just being crazy.
If I said it started with the trip to St Louis, I’d probably be lying. During the first weekend I spent with Boy Toy, I SAW us getting married before he deployed for Iraq. Intuition isn’t quite the right word, but it is the first one that comes to mind. I can even picture in my mind’s eye where we were when I knew it. But from that moment on, I tried to do everything I could to not give in to that idea. I tried not to act at all girlfriend-y, tried not to call very much, and I saw plenty of other people, all of which he knew about. But he still wanted to make it more serious than we had planned, by asking me to start dating seriously before he deployed, which wasn’t part of his plan, or mine.
Then, I really overstepped. The Sunday before the trip, I had a serious depressive episode. Boy Toy was back in College Town, packing up all his stuff so that he’d be ready to leave for training. I called him to “say good-bye”, but I also told him that I loved him. I put on it the caveat that I didn’t expect him to feel the same, much less say anything back. And he didn’t say it back, just that he did care for me and that he didn’t want this to be the end of anything. I found out later that he had his own intuition. He felt that I would be fine in the end and that the only thing he could really do to help me was to put a protection spell on me and continue with his packing.
Basically, this brings us up to speed for the trip to St Louis. While BT and I were putting bags in the car, he told me that he knew he would say what I had said (“I love you”) soon, but that he just didn’t want to say it without fully meaning it, etc, etc. I sorta laughed it off, telling him that he really shouldn’t worry about saying anything at anytime. But we were barely out of the metro area before he whispered “I love you” in my ear as we cuddled in the backseat while my poor mother drove.
That was the start of the back and forth that continued all weekend. One of us would put something out there that we had been afraid of telling the other, only to find that, not only did the other person share that feeling, but that the other person wanted to take it a step farther. One example involves the tattoos that we ended up getting. Friday night in the car, BT said that he wanted to get me something with the emblem of a crow on it, as a symbol of protection, a symbol of constant return even beyond death. That we would return to each other no matter what. I thought it was really sweet. As we went to sleep that night, I asked him where would be the best place to get a tattoo of protection, thinking specifically of getting a crow. His answer was the back because you can’t watch it yourself. Saturday morning when I told him about my desire to get it as a tattoo on my back, he jumped at the idea to find designs from the internet when we got to my grandma’s later that day. When he brought me the pictures he’d printed from online, he even went a step farther, asking what I would think of putting a heartogram in the center of the crow design, especially as he was thinking of getting a heartogram as well. I could see he was testing something with it. So I raised him, asking him what he thought about me getting the head colored in green, for his eyes. We both got our tats together that night.
It was the same with most things over the weekend, which is how we went from planning on seriously dating when he got back to moving in together to getting married in December when he was home on Christmas Exodus before he deploys. He even did the whole proposal thing on his knees in front of my family on Sunday morning before we left St. Louis. And, despite the fact that my mom barely talked to us the whole trip back, we were all smiles and lovey-dovey-ness.
Thus closes out the first part of our story.
My Tat
His Tat
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Decision Making Strategies
When I saw this diagram on one of the feminist blogs that I visit regularly, I thought it would be a perfect way as a writer to make decisions, if you are only thinking about obtaining more experiences to draw from for your writing.
But it can sometimes get you into trouble. Or at least slightly weird situations.
Like getting stood-up on a Friday night by a guy you met on the internet who claimed to have been forced into being bi after being raped by a guy on an overnight train, in a story strangely reminiscent of one featured in the advice column Savage Love several months ago.
Like being 25 and in a car parked in the local high school's parking lot, surrounded by four cop cars, after you've decided to meet some guy off the internet to JUST make-out.
Maybe I should rethink using this diagram.......
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Absent
So I’m sure you all have missed me for the past month or so and have been dying to know about what I’ve been doing. Unfortunately, most of it hasn’t been that exciting. The greater part of that time has been spent in bed, being depressed. The highlights of those periods have mostly been my panicky suicidal moments and my moments of extreme physical pain, which I thought were digestive/stomach issues, perhaps a hiatal hernia like my mom and uncle have.
Of course there have been romantic/sexual ups and downs. I started what I thought would be a nice “sex in a box” relationship with a shy lesbian female friend of mine, thinking I made my lack of intentions clear, only to find that I hadn’t, that I had made her feel used, and that I’m apparently treating sex “like a man does.” (Thanks Mon Parrain.) I was very sorry about the way it ended and in hurting her, though we are still friends and she has found a great new girlfriend just recently, for which I’m very happy because she does deserve a good girlfriend. I just thought I could be around to fuck until she found that.
I fell hard and fast for a whole family who live 2.5 hours away only to find that, once the depression set in again, my overwhelming desire to lose myself in what they wanted and needed was almost just as self-destructive as my only other desire at that time, to end my own life. So, as much as I hated doing it and being a complete coward about it, I begged Mon Parrain into getting me out of the situation before I did more harm to myself. He hated having to step in the way he did also because he never wanted to dictate my life, or any one’s life, but, as he felt I was a grave danger to myself, he did it. While I may not have agreed with his methods, he did do what I asked of him in the best way possible.
But of course my romantic life hasn’t been all doom and gloom. I spent a wonderful weekend with a wonderful young man who seemed to accept all my weirdness, has plenty of his own, and has made it his goal when we are together to make me laugh and smile. Also, seemingly without any special effort, he makes me feel safe and wanted when I am with him, hell, even sometimes when I am not with him, and that is a very rare thing. Initially, he started out as a conquest. This cute, slender but muscular army boy who was a friend of a friend and the only straight boy in a tiny bar full of only gay men. Though I got his number and we kissed, I was sure he’d forget about me as soon as he returned to the nearby college town where he lives and sobered up. I waited 3 days to call him. The first thing he asked me when I called though was when I was going to come kidnap him for a weekend with me in the Big City. As he looks much younger than he is and also younger than I am, I spent the weeks in between our first meeting and the first weekend we both had free for me to kidnap him, I took to calling him Boy Toy (BT) to all my friends. That will forever be his pseudonym on this blog as well. But what I thought would be a casual weekend of fucking became something more. I knew early on I was in trouble. He is a huge Buffy fan and on our way out to this posh shopping mall, we listened to the Buffy musical soundtrack. It was all over when he fulfilled my secret wish to sing “I’ll Never Tell” as the duet it is in the episode, with me as Anya and him as Xander. But there’s always a catch right? He deploys for Iraq in January and will be spending months before that at the mobilization site, getting ready to deploy. So, I’m trying to look forward to a year (or more) of sending him cartons of Newports, DVDs I think he’ll like, pictures of me, and loving letters. He says he wants to try to date exclusively as soon as he comes back. I guess we’ll have to see if he still feels that way when he returns and if I think I can be faithful then. But he’s such a sweet guy, there are times when I want to run because I fear hurting him. When I expressed this to Mon Parrain, he had a wonderful comeback. “Ava, you have the most perfect opportunity to leave the campsite better than you found it here. You can give this guy, who you really do like, a great time before he leaves and, then, with very little effort on your part, you can greatly improve his experience over there with your care packages and letters and constant reminders of his home, of all the love people back in the States have for him.. Even if nothing comes of the two of you when he returns, you will have been able to make his life that much better while he’s gone.” Considering how much BT has helped make me feel better, it warms my heart to think that I might be able to return the favor.
Another plus in this crazy time is that I’ve realized the amazing friend that I have in Mon Parrain. He is the one who did the dirty work with the family I loved despite his distaste for having to take over any aspect of my life. He has kept in almost constant contact with me despite a demanding work schedule and preparing for and having a baby during this period. When I was at my lowest point, it was really his genuine worry and fear for my safety that make me seek out a more intensive treatment option, though that didn’t work out quite as either of us had planned. They put me on a 72 hour voluntary hold when all I really wanted was to try to switch my meds, see the prescribing doctor more regularly so that if something went wrong I didn’t have to wait months to get it fixed, and perhaps go into an outpatient program. But it was his encouragement that made me stick to being there, to participating in the groups, and to aggressively seeking out the treatment I knew I needed. He also made dozens of fruitless calls to try to talk to me, despite the anarchic phone system. He continuously worked to make me laugh and also pushed me to get back to my writing, especially this story that I’ve been working on in my head since the summer because it intrigues him so much. Several times recently he’s told me that he thinks what makes our relationship so special, at least for him, is that he finally feels like he’s found someone he doesn’t have to lie to, that he can tell me anything and I won’t run away or be disgusted. I’m also smart enough to know what things are said in confidence and what things aren’t, without having to be specifically told. And, in all actuality, I’m not usually shocked by most of what he says. And I’ve found that in him as well. Though he seems to think that I can be the person that no one has to lie to for everyone, few have taken that offer. In talking about other lovers who’s honesty I’m questioning, he’s often said, “But s/he does know that you are the ONE person that s/he doesn’t have to lie to, right?” Apparently, only Mon Parrain feels that way about me, but I’m working hard to make it more universal.
But the biggest, most dramatic think to happen to me was---SURGERY. The short of the story is that I got surgery to have my gallbladder removed last Saturday and it seems to have taken care of all of my stomach problems and my acid reflux issues. Now, for the longer version: Until this semester, I did not have health insurance. A few weeks ago I started the tedious process of student health clinic visits and referral visits, etc, but nothing really happened until I went to the emergency room late Thursday night. While I was in the hospital for my depression, the generalized pain around my ribs had gotten worse and worse, but they weren’t equipped to help me. They also chalked it up to either being a hypochondriac or anxiety. Once in the ER, the doctor pushed on my stomach and the only part that drew howls of pain was when he pushed just below my right ribs. He referred me to get an ultrasound in the morning because they didn’t have a tech on duty that late at night. Friday, instead of getting the ultrasound, my mom and I spent the whole day trying to convince the student health clinic to give us a referral for the ultrasound (which was required by the health insurance company), while I lay at home in bed, writhing in pain, despite the lovely drugs they gave me. Fortunately, one of the ultrasound techs took pity on me and agreed to make an early morning appointment for Saturday, but that meant no food, drink, or drugs after midnight the night before. I was in serious pain by the time I got there Saturday morning for the ultrasound, but he was quick about it and I read his diagnosis over his shoulder. “Gall stones. Thickening of the gallbladder wall.”
Now, my mother had warned me that usually, even if it is a problem with your gallbladder, you have to wait weeks or even months to schedule a surgery. Not me. The tech took us to the ER, so it must have looked pretty bad. When the ER doctor came gave me a choice between surgery today or…well, I don’t really know what the other choice was because I told him to cut me open then and take care of it.
So Saturday I had laproscopic surgery to have my gallbladder removed. I went home Sunday afternoon. The surgeon said that I would have gone home Saturday but there was some drainage he was worried about, so he kept me overnight. There are two small incisions just below my ribs, one larger spot where the drain was, and my belly button is kinda messed up and bruised (because that’s where they pulled out my gallbladder) I’m sore, though less with each day, and I have to hold my stomach when I laugh or cough or sneeze. But this surgery has made me feel 100x better.
As soon as the surgery was over, I noticed that the weird pouchy roll that I’d developed around my middle during the past few months was suddenly gone. And I doubt they did any free liposuction so it must have just been swelling and bloating that never went away until the gallbladder did. The deep dark circles under my eyes that wouldn’t go away no matter how much sleep I got were also gone. So was the weird acne that had been plaguing me all summer. Even the acid reflux seems to have gone away. I never would have guessed that an organ you can just as easily live without and that you can take out so easily could cause so many problems for so long. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if a great deal of my very recent depression and suicidal-ness was not due in some part to the toxicity my body was no doubt experiencing from my mal-functioning gallbladder and/or my body’s inability to properly process my meds. I guess I’ll never know.
What I do know is that I feel so much better. As much as my still recovering body will allow, I plan on getting back to my life, making right things I let go when I was depressed, getting things back on track, and, hopefully, getting ready to return to school next semester. Unfortunately, I was so stuck in my depression that I chose not to go to class or work so I’ve ruined this semester of school and lost my amazing job. But there’s always next semester and I might be able to grovel, re-apply, and get my job back next semester as well.
So look forward to hering more from me. Sorry for the extended absence.
Of course there have been romantic/sexual ups and downs. I started what I thought would be a nice “sex in a box” relationship with a shy lesbian female friend of mine, thinking I made my lack of intentions clear, only to find that I hadn’t, that I had made her feel used, and that I’m apparently treating sex “like a man does.” (Thanks Mon Parrain.) I was very sorry about the way it ended and in hurting her, though we are still friends and she has found a great new girlfriend just recently, for which I’m very happy because she does deserve a good girlfriend. I just thought I could be around to fuck until she found that.
I fell hard and fast for a whole family who live 2.5 hours away only to find that, once the depression set in again, my overwhelming desire to lose myself in what they wanted and needed was almost just as self-destructive as my only other desire at that time, to end my own life. So, as much as I hated doing it and being a complete coward about it, I begged Mon Parrain into getting me out of the situation before I did more harm to myself. He hated having to step in the way he did also because he never wanted to dictate my life, or any one’s life, but, as he felt I was a grave danger to myself, he did it. While I may not have agreed with his methods, he did do what I asked of him in the best way possible.
But of course my romantic life hasn’t been all doom and gloom. I spent a wonderful weekend with a wonderful young man who seemed to accept all my weirdness, has plenty of his own, and has made it his goal when we are together to make me laugh and smile. Also, seemingly without any special effort, he makes me feel safe and wanted when I am with him, hell, even sometimes when I am not with him, and that is a very rare thing. Initially, he started out as a conquest. This cute, slender but muscular army boy who was a friend of a friend and the only straight boy in a tiny bar full of only gay men. Though I got his number and we kissed, I was sure he’d forget about me as soon as he returned to the nearby college town where he lives and sobered up. I waited 3 days to call him. The first thing he asked me when I called though was when I was going to come kidnap him for a weekend with me in the Big City. As he looks much younger than he is and also younger than I am, I spent the weeks in between our first meeting and the first weekend we both had free for me to kidnap him, I took to calling him Boy Toy (BT) to all my friends. That will forever be his pseudonym on this blog as well. But what I thought would be a casual weekend of fucking became something more. I knew early on I was in trouble. He is a huge Buffy fan and on our way out to this posh shopping mall, we listened to the Buffy musical soundtrack. It was all over when he fulfilled my secret wish to sing “I’ll Never Tell” as the duet it is in the episode, with me as Anya and him as Xander. But there’s always a catch right? He deploys for Iraq in January and will be spending months before that at the mobilization site, getting ready to deploy. So, I’m trying to look forward to a year (or more) of sending him cartons of Newports, DVDs I think he’ll like, pictures of me, and loving letters. He says he wants to try to date exclusively as soon as he comes back. I guess we’ll have to see if he still feels that way when he returns and if I think I can be faithful then. But he’s such a sweet guy, there are times when I want to run because I fear hurting him. When I expressed this to Mon Parrain, he had a wonderful comeback. “Ava, you have the most perfect opportunity to leave the campsite better than you found it here. You can give this guy, who you really do like, a great time before he leaves and, then, with very little effort on your part, you can greatly improve his experience over there with your care packages and letters and constant reminders of his home, of all the love people back in the States have for him.. Even if nothing comes of the two of you when he returns, you will have been able to make his life that much better while he’s gone.” Considering how much BT has helped make me feel better, it warms my heart to think that I might be able to return the favor.
Another plus in this crazy time is that I’ve realized the amazing friend that I have in Mon Parrain. He is the one who did the dirty work with the family I loved despite his distaste for having to take over any aspect of my life. He has kept in almost constant contact with me despite a demanding work schedule and preparing for and having a baby during this period. When I was at my lowest point, it was really his genuine worry and fear for my safety that make me seek out a more intensive treatment option, though that didn’t work out quite as either of us had planned. They put me on a 72 hour voluntary hold when all I really wanted was to try to switch my meds, see the prescribing doctor more regularly so that if something went wrong I didn’t have to wait months to get it fixed, and perhaps go into an outpatient program. But it was his encouragement that made me stick to being there, to participating in the groups, and to aggressively seeking out the treatment I knew I needed. He also made dozens of fruitless calls to try to talk to me, despite the anarchic phone system. He continuously worked to make me laugh and also pushed me to get back to my writing, especially this story that I’ve been working on in my head since the summer because it intrigues him so much. Several times recently he’s told me that he thinks what makes our relationship so special, at least for him, is that he finally feels like he’s found someone he doesn’t have to lie to, that he can tell me anything and I won’t run away or be disgusted. I’m also smart enough to know what things are said in confidence and what things aren’t, without having to be specifically told. And, in all actuality, I’m not usually shocked by most of what he says. And I’ve found that in him as well. Though he seems to think that I can be the person that no one has to lie to for everyone, few have taken that offer. In talking about other lovers who’s honesty I’m questioning, he’s often said, “But s/he does know that you are the ONE person that s/he doesn’t have to lie to, right?” Apparently, only Mon Parrain feels that way about me, but I’m working hard to make it more universal.
But the biggest, most dramatic think to happen to me was---SURGERY. The short of the story is that I got surgery to have my gallbladder removed last Saturday and it seems to have taken care of all of my stomach problems and my acid reflux issues. Now, for the longer version: Until this semester, I did not have health insurance. A few weeks ago I started the tedious process of student health clinic visits and referral visits, etc, but nothing really happened until I went to the emergency room late Thursday night. While I was in the hospital for my depression, the generalized pain around my ribs had gotten worse and worse, but they weren’t equipped to help me. They also chalked it up to either being a hypochondriac or anxiety. Once in the ER, the doctor pushed on my stomach and the only part that drew howls of pain was when he pushed just below my right ribs. He referred me to get an ultrasound in the morning because they didn’t have a tech on duty that late at night. Friday, instead of getting the ultrasound, my mom and I spent the whole day trying to convince the student health clinic to give us a referral for the ultrasound (which was required by the health insurance company), while I lay at home in bed, writhing in pain, despite the lovely drugs they gave me. Fortunately, one of the ultrasound techs took pity on me and agreed to make an early morning appointment for Saturday, but that meant no food, drink, or drugs after midnight the night before. I was in serious pain by the time I got there Saturday morning for the ultrasound, but he was quick about it and I read his diagnosis over his shoulder. “Gall stones. Thickening of the gallbladder wall.”
Now, my mother had warned me that usually, even if it is a problem with your gallbladder, you have to wait weeks or even months to schedule a surgery. Not me. The tech took us to the ER, so it must have looked pretty bad. When the ER doctor came gave me a choice between surgery today or…well, I don’t really know what the other choice was because I told him to cut me open then and take care of it.
So Saturday I had laproscopic surgery to have my gallbladder removed. I went home Sunday afternoon. The surgeon said that I would have gone home Saturday but there was some drainage he was worried about, so he kept me overnight. There are two small incisions just below my ribs, one larger spot where the drain was, and my belly button is kinda messed up and bruised (because that’s where they pulled out my gallbladder) I’m sore, though less with each day, and I have to hold my stomach when I laugh or cough or sneeze. But this surgery has made me feel 100x better.
As soon as the surgery was over, I noticed that the weird pouchy roll that I’d developed around my middle during the past few months was suddenly gone. And I doubt they did any free liposuction so it must have just been swelling and bloating that never went away until the gallbladder did. The deep dark circles under my eyes that wouldn’t go away no matter how much sleep I got were also gone. So was the weird acne that had been plaguing me all summer. Even the acid reflux seems to have gone away. I never would have guessed that an organ you can just as easily live without and that you can take out so easily could cause so many problems for so long. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if a great deal of my very recent depression and suicidal-ness was not due in some part to the toxicity my body was no doubt experiencing from my mal-functioning gallbladder and/or my body’s inability to properly process my meds. I guess I’ll never know.
What I do know is that I feel so much better. As much as my still recovering body will allow, I plan on getting back to my life, making right things I let go when I was depressed, getting things back on track, and, hopefully, getting ready to return to school next semester. Unfortunately, I was so stuck in my depression that I chose not to go to class or work so I’ve ruined this semester of school and lost my amazing job. But there’s always next semester and I might be able to grovel, re-apply, and get my job back next semester as well.
So look forward to hering more from me. Sorry for the extended absence.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Jump Right In- The Urge
Yep, another boring song for now kiddies. But look out for posts on "Sex in a Box" and "Sex and Class", coming soon, same blog time, same blog channel. (Ok, so maybe not the same time, but it's such a great line!)
Jump Right In- The Urge
sitting at the edge of the bed
one million thoughts as i reflect.
tease me just a little
i'm not hard to persuade
fully aware for this that i might pay.
not too much that can be said
thinking about the bad things in my head,
always wondering if what they said was true
now i'm in the bed with...
even though she was no stranger
chose the one keep me out of danger.
no song and dance just jump right in.
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
standing in the doorway of distress -
ask MD, for ways out of this mess,
a wave of panic every time i lose a hair
i believe i'm falling apart but not quite despair.
turns into this one thing i just can't ignore -
don't knowwhat i am feeling anymore -
i guess it's time to end this affair like i don't care
i don't care.
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
even though she was no stranger -
chose the one to keep me out of danger,
no song and dance
i took my chances with her
no time to waste.
just jump right in i said to her -
stand in the doorway of distress -
no time to waste just
jump right in,
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
http://youtube.com/watch?v=gMl7a1TiRHc
Jump Right In- The Urge
sitting at the edge of the bed
one million thoughts as i reflect.
tease me just a little
i'm not hard to persuade
fully aware for this that i might pay.
not too much that can be said
thinking about the bad things in my head,
always wondering if what they said was true
now i'm in the bed with...
even though she was no stranger
chose the one keep me out of danger.
no song and dance just jump right in.
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
standing in the doorway of distress -
ask MD, for ways out of this mess,
a wave of panic every time i lose a hair
i believe i'm falling apart but not quite despair.
turns into this one thing i just can't ignore -
don't knowwhat i am feeling anymore -
i guess it's time to end this affair like i don't care
i don't care.
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
even though she was no stranger -
chose the one to keep me out of danger,
no song and dance
i took my chances with her
no time to waste.
just jump right in i said to her -
stand in the doorway of distress -
no time to waste just
jump right in,
fought the urge to do it -
skin to skin
what the hell here i go -
jump right in
http://youtube.com/watch?v=gMl7a1TiRHc
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Bar Experiments- Night 1
I have never been to a bar alone. I always go with friends or am going to meet someone there. Going to lesbian bars alone is especially scary for me because that means that my goal is supposed to be to meet a woman, but, with lesbains, I have a really REALLY hard time telling when it is just two chicks hanging out and when they are a couple. (Ok, sometimes it is really obvious, but, especially in groups, it is very difficult if the women are not all over each other.) But, as I'm feeling more confident, and my three closest friends have been pushing me to get my ass out there and flirt and dance and meet women, and I'm getting a weekend off from hospital duty, I decided to go out to the lesbian bar here all by my lonesome. I even wore one of my new dresses. And I thought I'd file a preliminary report before I went to bed.
First of all, I have to say I looked really hot in my new dress. I got there early, for bar time, 10 pm. Ordered a drink on the patio, walked inside, checking everything out. They were still doing karaoke, so I picked a spot at the bar where I could see the performer and drank my drink. I looked around and watched people. A woman who must be a regular sat down next to me, ordered her drink, and talked to the bartender. We got into a conversation and, though she might be a little old for me and not someone I would have approached, it was nice to talk to someone. Then, this man came up to me while his partner was paying their bill and told me how amazing I looked in my dress. He commented on all the different aspects of how great I looked in it, said that he had been watching me the whole time he and his partner were eating from across the bar, which was really flattering, but I wished some woman had said it to me instead of some (drunk?) gay man. Then, he told the woman sitting next to me that she was really lucky!!! She definately blushed at that. She had to leave soon after that because she works early on Saturdays. But she asked me if I wanted to meet her back there Sunday to play washers. I said ok and she gave me her card and told me to call her. Score!
The rest of the night was not quite so sucessful. I went out to the floor to dance, as karaoke was over by then, and, during the first song that I was out there, this very pretty, slim blonde came out and danced kinda toward me, but never got real close, though we made eye contact. When I walked by her later, she looked at me and smiled and said hey, but she was with this man and I couldn't really tell what was going on there and she was very pretty, so I didn't have the courage to talk to her. There was a kinda andro chick who had caught my eye when I first got there and was just playing on one of those video screen game thingies, so I tried talking to her. Turns out her girlfriend is a barback there and so she just hangs out when she has the time. Then, after some water, I went back out to dance. Mostly, I danced by myself, but there was this really cute middle-of-the-road lesbian chick that had also caught my eye earlier dancing with her gay male friend, so I decided to try to dance with them. They were facing each other, so I came up behind her. She seemed cool with it but at the end of that song, they left the dance floor. :( Oh well. At least I tried. So, then I danced some more and decided to come home, since I should get up early to help my family a little before taking Saturday away from official family duty.
Tomorrow, I plan to lay outside in the sun and read, then go catch a movie or two, then go back out to the bar. I'll let you know how that goes. But I'm still pretty baffled as to how chicks just meet at a bar and go home together. Let's just keep our fingers crossed that I get to dance WITH some chick(s) tomorrow night.
First of all, I have to say I looked really hot in my new dress. I got there early, for bar time, 10 pm. Ordered a drink on the patio, walked inside, checking everything out. They were still doing karaoke, so I picked a spot at the bar where I could see the performer and drank my drink. I looked around and watched people. A woman who must be a regular sat down next to me, ordered her drink, and talked to the bartender. We got into a conversation and, though she might be a little old for me and not someone I would have approached, it was nice to talk to someone. Then, this man came up to me while his partner was paying their bill and told me how amazing I looked in my dress. He commented on all the different aspects of how great I looked in it, said that he had been watching me the whole time he and his partner were eating from across the bar, which was really flattering, but I wished some woman had said it to me instead of some (drunk?) gay man. Then, he told the woman sitting next to me that she was really lucky!!! She definately blushed at that. She had to leave soon after that because she works early on Saturdays. But she asked me if I wanted to meet her back there Sunday to play washers. I said ok and she gave me her card and told me to call her. Score!
The rest of the night was not quite so sucessful. I went out to the floor to dance, as karaoke was over by then, and, during the first song that I was out there, this very pretty, slim blonde came out and danced kinda toward me, but never got real close, though we made eye contact. When I walked by her later, she looked at me and smiled and said hey, but she was with this man and I couldn't really tell what was going on there and she was very pretty, so I didn't have the courage to talk to her. There was a kinda andro chick who had caught my eye when I first got there and was just playing on one of those video screen game thingies, so I tried talking to her. Turns out her girlfriend is a barback there and so she just hangs out when she has the time. Then, after some water, I went back out to dance. Mostly, I danced by myself, but there was this really cute middle-of-the-road lesbian chick that had also caught my eye earlier dancing with her gay male friend, so I decided to try to dance with them. They were facing each other, so I came up behind her. She seemed cool with it but at the end of that song, they left the dance floor. :( Oh well. At least I tried. So, then I danced some more and decided to come home, since I should get up early to help my family a little before taking Saturday away from official family duty.
Tomorrow, I plan to lay outside in the sun and read, then go catch a movie or two, then go back out to the bar. I'll let you know how that goes. But I'm still pretty baffled as to how chicks just meet at a bar and go home together. Let's just keep our fingers crossed that I get to dance WITH some chick(s) tomorrow night.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Oh My Goddess, I Feel So Butch Today!
Today I...
- Put together my grandma's new bed (which she had originally called her nephew-in-law and his son-in-law to do)
- Filled up my grandma's car (and was the first one to figure out how to make the gas door work properly)
- Broke down the box the bed came in with the world's oldest box cutter
Friday, May 18, 2007
First Semester Back Grades
I finally got around to looking up my grades for this past semester. (I've been kinda too busy with my intersession class lately to do much else.) And, for my first semester back in two years,
I got.....drumroll please.......
All As!!!!!
(Ok, so there was one A-, but I missed that class way more than I should have and I'm just happy not to have failed! My prof was amazingly understanding and I did all my work like a pro because I really loved the class.)
It's weird because this is the first semester that I've really told myself that I don't care if I get all As or not. It's been kinda a mantra when I start stressing about something not being perfect. I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As. I've been trying to focus on just learning as much as I can and really getting something from the class because I'm there to learn first and foremost. And, while I'm also there to get a degree and not take these classes over again, I do not have to have all As in these classes to get a degree. And I actually think this semester has been my most enjoyable semester so far. Though it is still cool to have gotten all As to match what I learned.
I got.....drumroll please.......
All As!!!!!
(Ok, so there was one A-, but I missed that class way more than I should have and I'm just happy not to have failed! My prof was amazingly understanding and I did all my work like a pro because I really loved the class.)
It's weird because this is the first semester that I've really told myself that I don't care if I get all As or not. It's been kinda a mantra when I start stressing about something not being perfect. I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As, I don't have to get all As. I've been trying to focus on just learning as much as I can and really getting something from the class because I'm there to learn first and foremost. And, while I'm also there to get a degree and not take these classes over again, I do not have to have all As in these classes to get a degree. And I actually think this semester has been my most enjoyable semester so far. Though it is still cool to have gotten all As to match what I learned.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Merry Fucking Christmas!
Wow! It is crazy out there!!!! Today was my holiday crunch day--tons of stuff to do and no time other than today to do it. I leave tomorrow right after work, driving 4 hours to my grandparents house in my mom's nicer car with all the presents. So, today from 10 am when I got off work until about 3 pm I had to squeeze in all that I had to do while dodging lots of cranky shoppers and drivers. Condensed list for today in order: Work, Best Buy for Grandpa's Birthday gift (too many people for 10am on a weekday!), Costco for prescription, Hollywood Video for movies to entertain my family with (or maybe just for me), lunch, school for ID card (closed :( ) and parking permit, Half Price Bookstore for Secret Santa giftcard (also bought stuff for me, oops), Red Lobster for gift card, and some place for kitty litter and a birthday card. This might not be alot of stuff for most people, especially these high functioning Johnson County soccer moms out here, but since just getting to work and doing nothing else is still an achievement for me, this was A LOT for a few hours. But I did it all and now I'm done (kinda...) Breath. Breath. Sing mean Christmas songs (or any songs) at the top of my lungs, dancing, smiling, shaking my now-longish hair. So here is the song that is in my head. Take it for what you will.
I Will Be Hating You for Christmas- Everclear
Thanks for the christmas card
I dont want to hear about your new job now
I dont want to hear about your new boyfriend
I dont want to hear about it all working out for you
No, I dont want to hear it now
I dont want to hear about your swinging new place
I dont want to hear how everyone thinks its great
I just want to sit in our apartment and hate you
Yes, I will be hating you for christmas
You can have the christmas tree
Remember when we bought it at the store down the street?
Remember when I found that cheesy color wheel?
I dont want to think about the lights on your white skin
No, I dont want to think about it
I dont want to think about last year at your dads
We said it was the best sex that we both ever had
I don't want to think about my face in your soft hair
I will be hating you for christmas...
I must be losing my mind
There's gotta be a better way to deal with the pain
There's gotta be a better way to deal with the hate
Wish that I could find some way to make you go away
Wish that I could have a drink and make you fade
I wish that I could have myself a drink and make you fade
I wish that I could have a drink and make you go away
Yeah make you go away
Wish that I could make you go away
I will be hating you for christmas
Yeah I will be hating you for christmas...
Thanks for the christmas card
I Will Be Hating You for Christmas- Everclear
Thanks for the christmas card
I dont want to hear about your new job now
I dont want to hear about your new boyfriend
I dont want to hear about it all working out for you
No, I dont want to hear it now
I dont want to hear about your swinging new place
I dont want to hear how everyone thinks its great
I just want to sit in our apartment and hate you
Yes, I will be hating you for christmas
You can have the christmas tree
Remember when we bought it at the store down the street?
Remember when I found that cheesy color wheel?
I dont want to think about the lights on your white skin
No, I dont want to think about it
I dont want to think about last year at your dads
We said it was the best sex that we both ever had
I don't want to think about my face in your soft hair
I will be hating you for christmas...
I must be losing my mind
There's gotta be a better way to deal with the pain
There's gotta be a better way to deal with the hate
Wish that I could find some way to make you go away
Wish that I could have a drink and make you fade
I wish that I could have myself a drink and make you fade
I wish that I could have a drink and make you go away
Yeah make you go away
Wish that I could make you go away
I will be hating you for christmas
Yeah I will be hating you for christmas...
Thanks for the christmas card
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