This is a paper that I wrote for my communications class, which seems a little silly to post here, except that it made me laugh as I was writing it. Not to mention that I got great feedback from my professor about my writing style. I wanted to keep it,but printing it out and stashing it means that I depend on myself being able to find it later. Eh, the blog is much easier.
There is so much going on in my world right now, but I don't have time to pee sitting down, much less to write about everything. I will find breathing room later, and I will undoubtedly post buckets.
Until then....here is my essay on "self-disclosure."
The first thing that comes to mind when I think of the times that I have regretted self-disclosure is in my dating experiences. The process of dating is intricate enough, with worrying about all of the rules that one is expected to follow. Meeting and going out with someone new is scary stuff. In addition to wondering if I was wearing the right thing or if I had too much spray gel in my hair, I was constantly thinking about whether I would say the right or wrong thing. Nine times out of ten, I managed to say something that got me dumped before we had even finished our appetizers.
Dating was so much easier before I was a divorced mom. When I was younger, the extent of my self-disclosure was that I worked too much and enjoyed scrapbooking. Those were the things that usually sent guys running. My revelations told them that I did not have a lot of time to dedicate to a relationship, and the menial amount that was leftover would be spent cutting and gluing photos to decorative paper. In a nutshell, I was boring. These days, however, it is much worse. I wish that the worst thing I had to self-disclose was that I was interested in trying decoupage. I have learned to keep the things that I reveal early on to a minimum. When I first rejoined the dating scene after my divorce was finalized, I was an open book. I was divorced and thrilled to be rid of the excess baggage that was my ex-husband. He was a jerk who did not deserve me, and every guy that I went out with was lucky enough to hear all about our rocky relationship.
I went out with a guy named Scott who was a few years younger than me, which originally did not seem like such a big deal. He had never been married, and he had no children, and (looking back) we could not have possibly been more different. Because we were friends before we considered going out on an actual date, I felt more comfortable in telling him more intricate details about my life. I told him that my marriage could have ended up on the Jerry Springer show, complete with fighting, screaming relatives and hair pulling. I told him that my daughter was right in the middle of a nasty custody battle, and that I was not going down without a fight. I trusted that Scott would be perfectly okay with my dirty laundry. I was completely wrong in my assumption. Looking back, I can now see how my release of too much information sent Scott running faster than a Olympic marathoner. He backed off so fast that he left skid marks. While I was too naive to notice it at the time, I now know that my private life left him feeling incredibly uncomfortable. He stopped calling and texting me, and he went into full-fledged avoidance mode. I kept asking myself, "Was it something that I said?" Of course it was! My revelations made him so uncomfortable that he had no choice but to reject me. Not only was he not interested in dating me, but after over-sharing with him, Scott had little desire to be my friend. It stung.
After having more than my share of terrible dates, I learned that there were simply some things that I should not say, at least not right away. I wish that I had kept some things under wraps on my date with Scott. I wish I had kept the details of my divorce to myself and omitted everything concerning my daughter. Our first date should have been about us getting to know one another, and I managed to push him away with the worst parts about myself. It would have been much simpler to hold back on the details, at least until date number three (or date number thirty). That would have given him time to realize that there was more to me than a failed relationship. And, if nothing else, we would possibly have at least come out as friends in the end.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Not Cutting It
Oh boy. I go through relationships like most people go through underwear. It's a dirty, nasty job, but I have no other choice. My future husband is simply not going to fall out of the sky and land on my front porch. And even if some poor sap did, in fact, do just that, I would most likely find something about him that grated on my nerves to no end, and I would certainly send him on his way before he had even dusted off his pants.
The coach that I went out with a week ago didn't make it to date number three. I had a few issues with this guy that I could not get past. First of all, he didn't look anything like his pictures. I mean, there was enough of a resemblance that it was obviously the same dude, but not enough that I was nearly as attracted to him in person as I was in photos. I get it, there are going to be good and bad photos of everyone (myself included), but NO FAIR if you entice me with ones that make you look more George Clooney-ish than you are in real life. I won't lie--I'm a pretty shallow girl when it comes down to it. There are certain things that I can get past. I don't necessarily need the entire package. I can overlook a lack of hot model looks as long as there is a glowing personality buried in there somewhere. I'll even go as far as to say that I will sacrifice a good personality as long as the guy is decent looking, although that probably won't get him as far with me. I can only look at you for so long, after all. But this guy didn't have either one! Zilch! He refused to talk to me on the phone, stating that he would "run out of things to say." His text messages were bland and uninteresting. Anything that I would ask was answered with a short, one-word answer. It was like having a conversation with a tree branch. I cannot develop a relationship out of that.
The other thing that irked me about this guy was that he was completely self-deprecating. I commented about how cute he looked in one of his photos, and he replied, "I'm not cute anymore. Now I'm just fat....." Oh gosh, this is why he is online dating. He is hoping that he'll find some stupid girl who is willing to love him as he is. That is not the purpose of dating! My ultimate goal is to find a man who has the basic skills that I require, and then I will mold him to fit the remainder of my needs! Good grief. Things went really sour last night. Earlier in the week, we had made plans to get together; this was at the point when I was willing to give him three dates before I passed complete and utter judgment on the pointlessness of investing too much time in him. Mid-week, I came down with a nasty cold that I'm still trying to shake, and then we got snow last night. I was not thrilled with the idea of (a) wiping my nose all night while trying to carry on a [probably one-sided] conversation, or (b) getting snowed in with someone that I was coming to the realization that I could not stand. Understandably, he was angry that I canceled. I would be mad if a date with me was canceled, too! His text messages were fervent and angry; if I had known that I could get him to write in complete sentences, I would have pissed him off four days ago!
Alas, today he unfriended me on Facebook, the ultimate way to let a girl know that you no longer dig her. This was not before he changed his profile photo to one of the most unflattering pictures I have ever seen, taken from the waist level pointing up, giving the appearance that he had several more chins than I had noticed as well as some nose hairs that I could have lived without seeing. It's for the best, honestly. I could never see myself changing my personal status to "in a relationship" with him. Perhaps if he put up one of the better photos that lured me in to begin with, I would consider it. As long as I didn't really have to go out with him in public.
I feel bad. Sometimes I'm just too mean for my own good.
The coach that I went out with a week ago didn't make it to date number three. I had a few issues with this guy that I could not get past. First of all, he didn't look anything like his pictures. I mean, there was enough of a resemblance that it was obviously the same dude, but not enough that I was nearly as attracted to him in person as I was in photos. I get it, there are going to be good and bad photos of everyone (myself included), but NO FAIR if you entice me with ones that make you look more George Clooney-ish than you are in real life. I won't lie--I'm a pretty shallow girl when it comes down to it. There are certain things that I can get past. I don't necessarily need the entire package. I can overlook a lack of hot model looks as long as there is a glowing personality buried in there somewhere. I'll even go as far as to say that I will sacrifice a good personality as long as the guy is decent looking, although that probably won't get him as far with me. I can only look at you for so long, after all. But this guy didn't have either one! Zilch! He refused to talk to me on the phone, stating that he would "run out of things to say." His text messages were bland and uninteresting. Anything that I would ask was answered with a short, one-word answer. It was like having a conversation with a tree branch. I cannot develop a relationship out of that.
The other thing that irked me about this guy was that he was completely self-deprecating. I commented about how cute he looked in one of his photos, and he replied, "I'm not cute anymore. Now I'm just fat....." Oh gosh, this is why he is online dating. He is hoping that he'll find some stupid girl who is willing to love him as he is. That is not the purpose of dating! My ultimate goal is to find a man who has the basic skills that I require, and then I will mold him to fit the remainder of my needs! Good grief. Things went really sour last night. Earlier in the week, we had made plans to get together; this was at the point when I was willing to give him three dates before I passed complete and utter judgment on the pointlessness of investing too much time in him. Mid-week, I came down with a nasty cold that I'm still trying to shake, and then we got snow last night. I was not thrilled with the idea of (a) wiping my nose all night while trying to carry on a [probably one-sided] conversation, or (b) getting snowed in with someone that I was coming to the realization that I could not stand. Understandably, he was angry that I canceled. I would be mad if a date with me was canceled, too! His text messages were fervent and angry; if I had known that I could get him to write in complete sentences, I would have pissed him off four days ago!
Alas, today he unfriended me on Facebook, the ultimate way to let a girl know that you no longer dig her. This was not before he changed his profile photo to one of the most unflattering pictures I have ever seen, taken from the waist level pointing up, giving the appearance that he had several more chins than I had noticed as well as some nose hairs that I could have lived without seeing. It's for the best, honestly. I could never see myself changing my personal status to "in a relationship" with him. Perhaps if he put up one of the better photos that lured me in to begin with, I would consider it. As long as I didn't really have to go out with him in public.
I feel bad. Sometimes I'm just too mean for my own good.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Good Enough
"Oh, it was enchanting to meet you...." --Taylor Swift, "Enchanted"
I have been a busy girl.
Mind you, I haven't been doing anything unusual or necessarily important. It's the normal stuff....work, school, mommy-ing. The past few weeks have been a little nuts for Kylie and myself. Every week has presented something that seems to hover over us and the dominating factor for our schedule. I have been pooped.
It seems that there has been this lingering feeling for me lately of missing something. Actually, I can't really say that this is anything new. I guess that in this regard, I wasn't expecting it to rear its ugly head when it did. It's partially because the hustle and bustle of the retail holiday season is over, and therefore, my schedule has somewhat ceased to be impossible. Suddenly, I went from working 70 hours a week to 32 (burning up those comp days....), and I feel a little empty. What is a girl to do with all of this free time? Relax, you say? What the hell is that? My friend, Kelly, who only sees me every six weeks or so told me the other day that I seemed down. At first, I denied it, assured her everything was fine. Then she brought it up again. I hadn't really thought about it until she mentioned it. I spend so much time trying to convince everyone else that everything with me is fine that I actually start believing it myself. Positivity is not my strong point.
I decided to take a wild leap back into the dating game this month. Maybe it's because of the hum of Valentine's Day that's in the air, or maybe it's because I have some free time to kill. Either way, I rejuvenated my online dating profile, the same one that has provided me with endless blog-worthy material over the past couple of years. Within 24 hours of posting it, I had 150 new messages. Good grief. I was clearly fresh meat on there. It would have been flattering if even half of the guys had bothered to read my profile before messaging me. It did not take long to remember why I had quit the online dating thing in the first place.
I did hit it off with a guy named Paul who seemed to have it together. He was cute, had a job, used complete sentences and punctuation, and even adopted his dog from a shelter. We hit it off over the phone and had even better chemistry in person. I was pretty excited. Who knew that I would have such great luck so quickly?! It was short-lived. After a few days of incessant texting and planning of our second date, Paul vanished. It wasn't even a gradual thing. One second, he was telling me that he couldn't wait to see me again, and the next he was gone. My girl intuition told me that something had spooked him and that he wasn't coming back. But nonetheless, he owed me an explanation, and therefore, I demanded one. The things he said to me were not what I expected. "Blah, blah, blah....I wasn't expecting to like you that much....blah, blah, blah...I'm just not looking for something serious, and I'm afraid that it will become like that with you...blah, blah, blah....my coworker introduced me to one of her friends, and I like her, too...." Wow. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Nonetheless, I took it in stride, and after one tearful conversation with my mom about this undeserving boy, I erased him from my life. I unfriended him on Facebook, deleted his number, got rid of his text messages. I wanted to completely eliminate any possibility that I would be tempted to contact him after that. Gone are the days that I chase after a boy who has made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me.
Imagine my surprise when, three days later, he texted me. "Are you mad at me?" it said. Uhhhhh, yeah! He followed it with endless apologies and a few phone calls that made me think he realized the errors of his ways. He said all the right things, and before long, date number two was back on. I was willing to swallow my pride and allow the boy to take me out again. I allowed myself to think that maybe he really was a good guy.
I am so delusional.
Date number two was awful. It didn't start out that way. The first few minutes were fine. We went to dinner , but beforehand, I had to drop some things off at my store. Instead of walking in with me, he waited in the car. I didn't think too much about it until after dinner. We decided to rent a movie from Redbox and take it back to my place. It was 27 degrees and incredibly windy outside. When we pulled up to Redbox, I got out to get the movie, while he (once again) waited in the car. Really? What the hell happened to chivalry. I mean, I'm all about opening my own doors and splitting the bill at dinner, but that was just kinda shitty! Then, he chose the most depressing movie on the planet to make me sit through (50/50). Halfway through, I had the urge to work on homework just to make the time pass. Not to mention that he was sitting so far away from me on my sofa that we could have fit a woolly mammoth in the space. So much for the cuddling that I was promised. It was almost like he couldn't get far enough away from me. There came a sad point in the movie, and I found myself getting teary. I blamed it on the flick, but I was really just bummed that my date was turning out to be so rotten. Talk about disappointing. At that point, I did what any normal girl would do...I facebooked about it. I spent the remainder of the movie responding to comments where my friends made me laugh about how terrible my night turned out to be. Ironically, a guy that I went out with a couple of years ago texted me to find out what happened. I found the entire situation comical and disheartening. This is what I signed up for? Good grief.
Tonight, at the last minute, I ended up going out with another guy, Jay, that I also met online. He is a football coach for a local college. When I started talking to him online, I gathered that this guy would probably have no interest in going out with me. My self-esteem is floating in the toilet, and therefore, I allowed myself to believe that I simply wasn't good enough for him. He assured me that he was picky, and I mentally began making a list of all of the reasons that he wouldn't like me. I can be incredibly hard on myself. It's awful. He asked me to dinner with him, and so I drove to Greensboro to meet him. Surprisingly, he was nothing like I expected. I had imagined all of the stereotypes I had from the football jocks of my high school days, and I was relieved that he didn't fit any of them. He opened doors for me, he bought dinner (even though I offered to split it), and he didn't laugh at me because I didn't realize until it was too late (and my mouth was on fire)that my tuna was glazed in wasabi. This might have potential written all over it.
Maybe I'm good enough for this dating thing after all...
I have been a busy girl.
Mind you, I haven't been doing anything unusual or necessarily important. It's the normal stuff....work, school, mommy-ing. The past few weeks have been a little nuts for Kylie and myself. Every week has presented something that seems to hover over us and the dominating factor for our schedule. I have been pooped.
It seems that there has been this lingering feeling for me lately of missing something. Actually, I can't really say that this is anything new. I guess that in this regard, I wasn't expecting it to rear its ugly head when it did. It's partially because the hustle and bustle of the retail holiday season is over, and therefore, my schedule has somewhat ceased to be impossible. Suddenly, I went from working 70 hours a week to 32 (burning up those comp days....), and I feel a little empty. What is a girl to do with all of this free time? Relax, you say? What the hell is that? My friend, Kelly, who only sees me every six weeks or so told me the other day that I seemed down. At first, I denied it, assured her everything was fine. Then she brought it up again. I hadn't really thought about it until she mentioned it. I spend so much time trying to convince everyone else that everything with me is fine that I actually start believing it myself. Positivity is not my strong point.
I decided to take a wild leap back into the dating game this month. Maybe it's because of the hum of Valentine's Day that's in the air, or maybe it's because I have some free time to kill. Either way, I rejuvenated my online dating profile, the same one that has provided me with endless blog-worthy material over the past couple of years. Within 24 hours of posting it, I had 150 new messages. Good grief. I was clearly fresh meat on there. It would have been flattering if even half of the guys had bothered to read my profile before messaging me. It did not take long to remember why I had quit the online dating thing in the first place.
I did hit it off with a guy named Paul who seemed to have it together. He was cute, had a job, used complete sentences and punctuation, and even adopted his dog from a shelter. We hit it off over the phone and had even better chemistry in person. I was pretty excited. Who knew that I would have such great luck so quickly?! It was short-lived. After a few days of incessant texting and planning of our second date, Paul vanished. It wasn't even a gradual thing. One second, he was telling me that he couldn't wait to see me again, and the next he was gone. My girl intuition told me that something had spooked him and that he wasn't coming back. But nonetheless, he owed me an explanation, and therefore, I demanded one. The things he said to me were not what I expected. "Blah, blah, blah....I wasn't expecting to like you that much....blah, blah, blah...I'm just not looking for something serious, and I'm afraid that it will become like that with you...blah, blah, blah....my coworker introduced me to one of her friends, and I like her, too...." Wow. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Nonetheless, I took it in stride, and after one tearful conversation with my mom about this undeserving boy, I erased him from my life. I unfriended him on Facebook, deleted his number, got rid of his text messages. I wanted to completely eliminate any possibility that I would be tempted to contact him after that. Gone are the days that I chase after a boy who has made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me.
Imagine my surprise when, three days later, he texted me. "Are you mad at me?" it said. Uhhhhh, yeah! He followed it with endless apologies and a few phone calls that made me think he realized the errors of his ways. He said all the right things, and before long, date number two was back on. I was willing to swallow my pride and allow the boy to take me out again. I allowed myself to think that maybe he really was a good guy.
I am so delusional.
Date number two was awful. It didn't start out that way. The first few minutes were fine. We went to dinner , but beforehand, I had to drop some things off at my store. Instead of walking in with me, he waited in the car. I didn't think too much about it until after dinner. We decided to rent a movie from Redbox and take it back to my place. It was 27 degrees and incredibly windy outside. When we pulled up to Redbox, I got out to get the movie, while he (once again) waited in the car. Really? What the hell happened to chivalry. I mean, I'm all about opening my own doors and splitting the bill at dinner, but that was just kinda shitty! Then, he chose the most depressing movie on the planet to make me sit through (50/50). Halfway through, I had the urge to work on homework just to make the time pass. Not to mention that he was sitting so far away from me on my sofa that we could have fit a woolly mammoth in the space. So much for the cuddling that I was promised. It was almost like he couldn't get far enough away from me. There came a sad point in the movie, and I found myself getting teary. I blamed it on the flick, but I was really just bummed that my date was turning out to be so rotten. Talk about disappointing. At that point, I did what any normal girl would do...I facebooked about it. I spent the remainder of the movie responding to comments where my friends made me laugh about how terrible my night turned out to be. Ironically, a guy that I went out with a couple of years ago texted me to find out what happened. I found the entire situation comical and disheartening. This is what I signed up for? Good grief.
Tonight, at the last minute, I ended up going out with another guy, Jay, that I also met online. He is a football coach for a local college. When I started talking to him online, I gathered that this guy would probably have no interest in going out with me. My self-esteem is floating in the toilet, and therefore, I allowed myself to believe that I simply wasn't good enough for him. He assured me that he was picky, and I mentally began making a list of all of the reasons that he wouldn't like me. I can be incredibly hard on myself. It's awful. He asked me to dinner with him, and so I drove to Greensboro to meet him. Surprisingly, he was nothing like I expected. I had imagined all of the stereotypes I had from the football jocks of my high school days, and I was relieved that he didn't fit any of them. He opened doors for me, he bought dinner (even though I offered to split it), and he didn't laugh at me because I didn't realize until it was too late (and my mouth was on fire)that my tuna was glazed in wasabi. This might have potential written all over it.
Maybe I'm good enough for this dating thing after all...
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
My Year
This is gonna be my year. I just know it.
Doesn't everyone start out a new year by saying something like that? I'm pretty sure I have done that a zillion (well, 30 times). This time, I feel it. I'm 10 days into 2012, and I can tell that things are looking up for me. Not because I found a lucky penny or a magical Leprechaun, but because 2011 was so terrible in so many ways that things can really only go up from there.
At the moment, I'm not doing anything incredibly exciting. I'm enjoying a little less craziness from work to make up for all of the 70 hour weeks that I pulled in November and December. I started classes again yesterday. I got great news on the work front that proves all of my hard work is paying off. There is still a lot on my plate, but I like it that way.
My 31st birthday was last week, and I am happy to say that I didn't ring it in with any of the crazy anxiety that came along with 30. I partially wonder if I brought all of the drama and problems of last year on myself, but I think I just needed a bad year to make me appreciate the good ones.
This is going to be a good one.
Doesn't everyone start out a new year by saying something like that? I'm pretty sure I have done that a zillion (well, 30 times). This time, I feel it. I'm 10 days into 2012, and I can tell that things are looking up for me. Not because I found a lucky penny or a magical Leprechaun, but because 2011 was so terrible in so many ways that things can really only go up from there.
At the moment, I'm not doing anything incredibly exciting. I'm enjoying a little less craziness from work to make up for all of the 70 hour weeks that I pulled in November and December. I started classes again yesterday. I got great news on the work front that proves all of my hard work is paying off. There is still a lot on my plate, but I like it that way.
My 31st birthday was last week, and I am happy to say that I didn't ring it in with any of the crazy anxiety that came along with 30. I partially wonder if I brought all of the drama and problems of last year on myself, but I think I just needed a bad year to make me appreciate the good ones.
This is going to be a good one.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Edward's Big Adventure
Kylie and I have been the proud parents of two hamsters since last summer. They have lived together but apart, side by side in their matching cages, idly running on their annoying little wheels and snacking on sunflower seeds for the duration of their time with us. We even gave them matching names, Edward and Bella. (I should not have to explain that one.) Since we are not allowed to have a dog in our new house, the hamsters will have to suffice. I'm honestly shocked that they have lived this long.
On Thanksgiving, my parents came down, and my mom brought her dog, Roxie, for a visit. Kylie stashed the hamsters in her room to prevent Roxie from wanting an afternoon snack. Our Thanksgiving was cut somewhat short by the fact that I had to be at work at 1 AM for the Black Friday madness; therefore, I had to find a way to sleep the afternoon away so that I could function on the sales floor the following day. Instead of a twelve hour shift, I had to pull a 22 hour day when one of my assistants didn't show. I came home at almost midnight on Friday night. I was exhausted beyond words, but so thankful to finally be at home.
Being the responsible pet owner that I am, I immediately went to Kylie's room to bring the hamsters out to their designated spot on the table in our hallway so that I could feed them. Bella was eagerly awaiting her breakfast, but imagine my shock when I discovered the door to Edward's cage open without a hamster in sight. I must have stood there for a few seconds with a zillion thoughts racing through my mind. Omigosh, there is a hamster loose in my house. What if I step on him? What if he croaks in that pile of laundry that has been on my floor for weeks? I would have to burn all of my clothes. What am I going to say to Kylie? At this time, it had been over 24 hours since his cage has been left opened, so there was absolutely no telling where he could be. That thought did not stop me from digging through the pine chips in his cage. Then I searched underneath Kylie's bed with a flashlight. I found a rotten apple, a half-eaten poptart, and some of my office supplies that had miraculously vanished when we moved in, but no hamster.
I was so exhausted from being awake for over 24 hours that the loss of my hamster felt like the end of the world. I was weepy as I searched the entire house for him, calling his name as though he were a puppy that would come running out to me. Hell no, he knew that if he was found, he was going to spend the rest of his life running around in that little green cage. Edward had gotten a taste of freedom, and I think he liked it. When he failed to turn up, I felt like the biggest failure of a parent on the planet, although I had lectured Kylie a million times to make sure that the cage doors were completely secure. Just before I fell into bed, I left a little bowl of hamster food on the floor in the hallway, hoping that he would find it and leave my laundry alone. I also was imagining all of the damage that hamsters could cause to my house, causing me to rationalize to my landlord that hamsters do not, in fact, count as those pets that I'm not allowed to have.
The following afternoon, I came home from work to find that Edward's food had been scattered on the floor. I was ecstatic to know that he was still alive. So I took it one step further and added a box with pine chips and his hamster wheel to the floor. I imagined finding his nestled in the corner of the box the next day or hearing him run on the wheel in the middle of the night. It didn't happen. A couple more days passed, and I had resigned myself to the idea that Edward was not coming back. How long can a hamster on the lamb survive in the wild jungle that was my house?
Yesterday morning, my alarm went off at 7 AM. As I was laying in bed, deciding if I wanted to get up and look presentable for work or if I could pull off a ten-minute shower/hair fix, I heard something. Scratch, scratch, scratch.... It was coming from under my bed. I held my breath for a second, and then I heard it again. Scratch, scratch, scratch... Edward was alive, and he was in my room! I grabbed the flashlight that I had been using previously to look for him, and I shined it under my bed. I saw nothing, so I made my way to the other side of the bed which was closer to the wall. That's when I saw the little supply of hamster food, scattered beneath my nightstand. This is also the place that I throw all of my tall winter boots on the floor (since I have no closet space). Instantly, I knew that Edward was in one of those boots. I picked each one up, one at a time, and gently shook them out. When I reached the last one, sure enough, Edward slid out of it and plopped on the floor. He looked just as surprised to be there as I was to find him. Before he could bolt away, I scooped him up and ran to Kylie's room, where I awakened her with the news that her furry little friend had been rescued. I was so excited that he was back that I didn't even mind having to shake the hamster poop out of my boot, too.
Now, normalcy has resumed in my household. I no longer have to worry about walking through my house at night, terrifed that I will step on a wayward hamster. I am overwhelmed with relief.
My laundry, however, is still on the floor. I really have no reason to pick it up now that Edward has been located.
On Thanksgiving, my parents came down, and my mom brought her dog, Roxie, for a visit. Kylie stashed the hamsters in her room to prevent Roxie from wanting an afternoon snack. Our Thanksgiving was cut somewhat short by the fact that I had to be at work at 1 AM for the Black Friday madness; therefore, I had to find a way to sleep the afternoon away so that I could function on the sales floor the following day. Instead of a twelve hour shift, I had to pull a 22 hour day when one of my assistants didn't show. I came home at almost midnight on Friday night. I was exhausted beyond words, but so thankful to finally be at home.
Being the responsible pet owner that I am, I immediately went to Kylie's room to bring the hamsters out to their designated spot on the table in our hallway so that I could feed them. Bella was eagerly awaiting her breakfast, but imagine my shock when I discovered the door to Edward's cage open without a hamster in sight. I must have stood there for a few seconds with a zillion thoughts racing through my mind. Omigosh, there is a hamster loose in my house. What if I step on him? What if he croaks in that pile of laundry that has been on my floor for weeks? I would have to burn all of my clothes. What am I going to say to Kylie? At this time, it had been over 24 hours since his cage has been left opened, so there was absolutely no telling where he could be. That thought did not stop me from digging through the pine chips in his cage. Then I searched underneath Kylie's bed with a flashlight. I found a rotten apple, a half-eaten poptart, and some of my office supplies that had miraculously vanished when we moved in, but no hamster.
I was so exhausted from being awake for over 24 hours that the loss of my hamster felt like the end of the world. I was weepy as I searched the entire house for him, calling his name as though he were a puppy that would come running out to me. Hell no, he knew that if he was found, he was going to spend the rest of his life running around in that little green cage. Edward had gotten a taste of freedom, and I think he liked it. When he failed to turn up, I felt like the biggest failure of a parent on the planet, although I had lectured Kylie a million times to make sure that the cage doors were completely secure. Just before I fell into bed, I left a little bowl of hamster food on the floor in the hallway, hoping that he would find it and leave my laundry alone. I also was imagining all of the damage that hamsters could cause to my house, causing me to rationalize to my landlord that hamsters do not, in fact, count as those pets that I'm not allowed to have.
The following afternoon, I came home from work to find that Edward's food had been scattered on the floor. I was ecstatic to know that he was still alive. So I took it one step further and added a box with pine chips and his hamster wheel to the floor. I imagined finding his nestled in the corner of the box the next day or hearing him run on the wheel in the middle of the night. It didn't happen. A couple more days passed, and I had resigned myself to the idea that Edward was not coming back. How long can a hamster on the lamb survive in the wild jungle that was my house?
Yesterday morning, my alarm went off at 7 AM. As I was laying in bed, deciding if I wanted to get up and look presentable for work or if I could pull off a ten-minute shower/hair fix, I heard something. Scratch, scratch, scratch.... It was coming from under my bed. I held my breath for a second, and then I heard it again. Scratch, scratch, scratch... Edward was alive, and he was in my room! I grabbed the flashlight that I had been using previously to look for him, and I shined it under my bed. I saw nothing, so I made my way to the other side of the bed which was closer to the wall. That's when I saw the little supply of hamster food, scattered beneath my nightstand. This is also the place that I throw all of my tall winter boots on the floor (since I have no closet space). Instantly, I knew that Edward was in one of those boots. I picked each one up, one at a time, and gently shook them out. When I reached the last one, sure enough, Edward slid out of it and plopped on the floor. He looked just as surprised to be there as I was to find him. Before he could bolt away, I scooped him up and ran to Kylie's room, where I awakened her with the news that her furry little friend had been rescued. I was so excited that he was back that I didn't even mind having to shake the hamster poop out of my boot, too.
Now, normalcy has resumed in my household. I no longer have to worry about walking through my house at night, terrifed that I will step on a wayward hamster. I am overwhelmed with relief.
My laundry, however, is still on the floor. I really have no reason to pick it up now that Edward has been located.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
The World of Carrie
I have to get out of this habit of only writing once or twice a month. I have so much to say, but only a limited number of hours to get it all out. I prefer to simply yell at people. It's much faster than typing.
Things in the world of Carrie:
Things in the world of Carrie:
- My number one goal is surviving the remaining three weeks of the semester. This includes finishing the research paper that I was assigned in August, but haven't started yet. I checked out a ton of books from the library, and they're all overdue, but I haven't read any of them. I am so screwed.
- The holidays....ugh, anyone who has ever worked in retail during the holidays ooooooor anyone who has ever attempted to shop in a retail location during the holidays should feel sorry for me. Well, not really. Because I'm super awesome, and I'm ready to make Black Friday my bitch.
- Planning Thanksgiving with my family is a challenge. Because my extended family is in Michigan, the dinner at Grandma's isn't really an option for us. My parents are going to come down to my place for Thanksgiving brunch, as we have decided that I won't really be able to eat much at a real Thanksgiving dinner. (No turkey, no tofurkey...) Because I have to be at work at 1 AM Friday, I decided to stay up all night Wednesday so that I can catch some zzzzzz's on Thursday afternoon before I have to go in. I will probably fall asleep in my mom's hashbrown casserole.
- I took Kylie to see a urologist last week because of her recurring UTIs. She was a pretty sick little munch a couple of weeks ago. She has to have an ultrasound as well as another procedure that involves a catheter. I'm not really sure how to explain this entire thing to her. I had to deal with the whole catheter thing after surgery, and it was not pleasant. She's only eight. I don't understand why she and I have such problems with pee...
- I have decided that my only option for dating is to find a younger man with mommy issues. I keep trying to go out with guys who are older than me, but what I have realized is that they are someone else's discards. That is certainly not what I'm in the market for. If all else fails, maybe he'll have a killer sex drive. I need to make up for all of the nookie I didn't get in my twenties.
- Kylie and I have a "Breaking Dawn" date on Tuesday after she gets out of school. I'm torn between deciding if taking her makes me a cool mom or a bad mom. She has watched all three of the first Twilight movies, and she wasn't freaked out in the least. I can't believe I turned out to be one of those crazed Twilight fanatics. I was so anti-vampire/werewolf crap until I had to watch the first movie for my Humanities class a couple of years ago. Then I was hooked. And for the record, I have always been Team Edward.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Hello?
"Hello, hello. Is anybody listening? Let go, 'cause everyone lets go of me. Oh, oh, won't somebody show me that I'm not alone, not alone?" --Kelly Clarkson, Hello
At this moment in my life, I feel as though I am standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming, and no one is paying any attention. I don't think that I have ever felt more alone. It is incredibly discouraging. Some days, I think that I have mastered the art of keeping it all together, making it appear as though I know what I am doing. But the majority of the time, I am surprised when I make it through the day without collapsing in a fit of tears. It's a difficult existence. I think that my challenge is that I can't figure out what really matters anymore. I'm fumbling around, attempting to find my place in this crap-tastic, effed up world, and I'm not succeeding at all. I'm going through the motions, but nothing is hitting the bullseye. I can't find my niche. I am beginning to think that I simply do not have a niche.
Kylie and I spent the last week in Michigan with my extended family. It was so nice to take a break from my frustrations, but it was also incredibly hard to march back into my life and remember what I had left behind. This juggling act is too much to handle, and I have recently had too many moments where I just wanted to give it all up and run away. If it weren't for Kylie, I would have disappeared a long time ago. I no longer want to deal with Rat Bastard and his nonchalant attitude about caring for our daughter. I no longer want to fight with the courts about their failure to enforce his child support payments. I no longer want to worry about whether he is going to switch up his weekend visitation and leave me hanging on a day that I have to work. In a sense, I am tired of being the only responsible parent.
I visited another urologist today, this guy being a specialist at Wake Forest Baptist Hospital (i.e. very good). This appointment was far less traumatizing than the last one, but the anxiety leading up to it was just as harrowing. I was the only person in the waiting room who was not a retiree. I spent two hours discussing everything that I have told no less than ten other doctors over the past five years. This time, however, I finally got the official diagnosis I have been waiting for. I'm sure that somewhere on my medical chart, someone has written "Hot Mess." It's a much shorter version than the three disorders that were named today. I now have the pleasure of spending a small fortune on prescriptions each month, in addition to following the diet that has tortured me for two months now. What really sucks is when people ask me why I have to eat such weird, limited things. I just don't really feel like explaining it all. There is nothing sexy about bladder problems; when I mention it, I imagine that people think I just randomly pee on myself. Grief. I have enough trouble scoring a date as it is.
On an up note, here are some highlights from my vacation. It was colder than the Arctic in Michigan, but it was absolutely beautiful. I think that I need to make visiting in the fall an annual event. Even though it was too cold to lounge on the beach of Lake Michigan, it was still awesome. And we got to wear cute earmuffs....always a perk.
I took my dad to see our favorite college football team (Michigan Wolverines) play their Homecoming game. The day could not have been better (minus the eight hour round trip drive to get to the bottom of the state). I spent a small fortune on tickets, but they were the perfect seats, and we had a blast.
Then, of course, there was Halloween. Kylie and I threw our costumes together at the last minute, deciding to go as matching witches. I think that I was pleasantly surprised at how close of a resemblance I shared with the Wicked Witch of the West once I threw on the green face paint. Perhaps I should wear it more often.
Most importantly, I had the chance to spend some time with my grandparents on each side of the family. There is never enough time, and I always wish that I lived closer. I feel like I have missed out on a lot because I am so far away, and I feel guilty for not being there to take care of them the way I would like. When I left my Grandma's on Tuesday afternoon to drive back to NC, I cried all the way to the bottom of Michigan. It's so hard to let go.
Next time we go up, I'm skipping driving. I don't care how much airline tickets are; I can't spend fifteen hours in a car ever again. Or, if the airlines are extremely ridiculous in their pricing (as usual), I will simply fly to Michigan on my broomstick. It seems to be a far more fitting alternative.
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