Shine Over Shadow

My Year

2012-01-10T08:51:00.003-05:00

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.

Edward's Big Adventure

2011-11-29T11:18:00.004-05:00

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.

The World of Carrie

2011-11-20T23:13:00.004-05:00

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:

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.

That's all I've got right now. I should have been sleeping about three hours ago....

Hello?

2011-11-03T09:35:00.006-04:00

"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.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

2011-10-18T22:53:00.000-04:00

I attended a neighborhood watch meeting tonight that turned out to be the most entertaining part of my day. I went partially out of curiosity, and partially in the hope that the hot guy who I spotted walking a giant dog last week a couple of blocks over might pop in. No such luck. I was the only person under the age of 60 who attended. Imagine my surprise when most of the people there already knew who I was!

I just spent $6 on some cool glitter eyeshadow that goes on like paint. I end up sparkling all day, and then digging the glitter out of my eyelashes all evening. A decent compromise, I think.

I undertook a mac-daddy kickboxing workout the other day that made me realize that I am no longer in top notch shape. I couldn't move for two days. I can't wait to do it again.

I'm off tomorrow, and I really want to stay in my PJs and sleep all day, but I have too much real-life stuff to do. Volunteering at Kylie's school, oil change, research project at the library. Ugggghhhh. There is no such thing as a "day off."

The new Kelly Clarkson album is out next week. I will play it non-stop for the next eighteen months. Here is my new(est) favorite track:

Yeah, I've been there.

My favorite most-recent pic of munch and me. Nothing like some rest area photography on the fly...

I'm still anti-dating. I don't think I'm going to snap out of it any time soon. This is one of the profile pics of a guy who sent me a message on PoF:

In case you can't tell, that's a boobie. (For the record, I did not reply to his message.) Boys are so stoooooopid. I'm so bored with guys who want to talk to me for, I don't know, two days or so before they are hinting at sleeping together. Good grief. I'm simply going to adopt the mentality that I'm too good for all of them anyway. Being snobby seems to be my strong suit.

My Tornado

2011-10-12T23:00:00.003-04:00

Do you ever get to that point where you wonder if you are spiraling downward, and you are the only person who doesn't realize it yet? I'm starting to think I'm there. I have lost count of the people who have asked me if I'm "okay" lately, and I'm not really sure how to answer when they do. Not that I think I'm losing it or anything of that nature, but I guess I have come to the point where I'm just not that good at covering up the crazy.

The past few weeks have been an insane blur of craziness. Most of it has been work related, and in between training a new assistant and working a gazillion hours each week, I have somehow managed to function outside of the mall as well. I just looked at the calendar and realized that we are almost halfway through October. Where in the hell did September go? Time is flying, and it's making me panic a little.

This is going to be the first week out of six that I have had two days off. Two entire days to do whatever I want. Well, not really. Tomorrow (day off #2) will be spent at the library, attempting to pick a topic for the research paper that I will be writing while I'm on vacation at the end of the month. I can think of many other things that I would rather be doing, but this is what I get for waiting until I'm in my 30s to earn a college degree. Getting through class takes an incredible amount of time and energy, and I regrettably think that I can only devote the leftovers to school. The majority of it goes into work, Kylie, eating carrot sticks, and watching "Modern Family." I gave up free time about six months ago.

I also gave up dating. Completely and entirely. Have I said that before? Yeah, probably. This time, I mean it. I'm just bored with the entire process. I don't have time to take on someone else's issues and madness; I have enough of my own. I am giving myself permission to take a break. No more weird online dating, no more caring what I look like when I run errands, no more wondering if Mr. Right has already passed me by. I simply do not care. My friends are getting divorced left and right, and it has made me sad. The guys that I meet have absolutely no interest in my life, and I always end up disappointed. Why put myself through that again? The investment of time and energy that goes into meeting someone, and trying to remember the names of his friends and family and what he does for a living, and then attempting to work him into my overcrowded schedule...grief. I have a headache just thinking about it.

I'm going to stick with the plan of being completely self-absorbed. I kind of like that. After all, I am my own favorite person, with the exception of Kylie, of course. I don't need to worry about impressing anyone, of wondering if I am good enough for someone else. Screw that. I've had enough of second guessing myself.

I guess this is when I start my cat collection, right?

Over It

2011-10-06T19:06:00.003-04:00

I have determined that I blog better when I am bitchy. Of course, if this is the case, I should be pumping out fresh posts every other hour instead of once each month. I've started writing things several times over the past few weeks, but I can't seem to put the things that are in my head into words. I am overwhelmed, overworked, and over-exhausted. And furthermore, I'm over all of it.

I have begun to hate people. Not just the deep loathing that I felt before. I really, truly, genuinely simply do not like them at all. I was always the type of person who wanted to see the good in people, but I have determined that for a large majority of the human population, the "good" is decidedly not there. It is rather unfortunate. I am far past the days of bending over backward for people, hoping that they will eventually do the same in return for me. People suck. In my personal life and professional life, I am all about saying "good riddance" to the ones who need to get the eff out of my space.

I spent the last month thinking about me, me, me. You know what? It's kind of refreshing. I have suddenly been thrown into this situation where I have to be incredibly self-absorbed. I have been forced to make minor and major changes in my daily life that would have seemed impossible before. My entire diet has changed. I can't eat anything out of the ordinary without checking a list, and if I make the wrong choice and miss an ingredient, I find myself miserable for days. I had to give up pilates because focusing on my abdominal area is off limits. If it weren't for running, I would have a complete meltdown.

Of course, finding time for that lately has been pretty much impossible. I have had one full day off since I returned from my leave of absence, the one that was so short that it didn't even qualify as a leave. I really thought that once I moved closer to work, I would have a different sort of life. I thought that I would have time for friends, for hobbies, a life. Instead, it has been constant chaos. There is not enough Carrie to go around. Carrie is tired.

I'm scheduled to take a vacation at the end of the month to go see my family. Is it wrong that I want to take a vacation alone, somewhere far far away? I want to just vanish for a few days, a week, maybe longer, and not tell anyone where I am going. Part of me doesn't even think that anyone would notice. Part of me doesn't care. I have toyed with the idea of moving somewhere else. What do I have to keep me here? I want something new. I thought that moving here would help, but I think that I got it all wrong.

I'm getting good at getting everything wrong. Sigh.

Answers

2011-09-09T12:24:00.008-04:00

"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." -Winnie the Pooh

Today was horrifying.

Not the entire day, mind you, as it is only 12:24 PM. Yet, I have endured enough stress and awfulness combined with a dose of mortification to last the entire day. In fact, I think I've met my quota for the whole weekend.

Surprisingly, I slept like a rock last night. I expected to be awake for half of the night, playing over the details of yesterday's dumping, convinced that I would be rocking in a corner of my bedroom by the time dawn rolled around. Instead, I turned my phone off (which never happens) and passed out around 11:00. I took that as a good sign. I thought too soon.

This morning, I dropped Kylie off at school and returned home to prep for the appointment that I had with my urologist. Ugh...urologist. It just sounds like a bad place. There I was in the shower, planning to wear something cute that would help me retain what is left of my dwindling self-esteem, ready to take on the world, and suddenly I was in tears. It's funny how things hit you when you least expect it. Yesterday, I was pretty okay. Today, I could barely pull it together long enough to rinse the conditioner out of my hair. Blow drying my hair seemed like an impossible, daunting task. Everything takes five more minutes than normal.

It's so stupid to be this upset about a relationship that lasted only a couple of months. Yet, I will allow myself a little bit of grieving. It sucks to have someone promise you things and make you believe you're not quite as awful as you thought, only to unexpectedly change his mind. And then there is that mental tug of war...was it something I said? something I did? How does someone go from telling you that he feels a connection with you to saying that he feels nothing? What happened?

Part of me thinks that he just couldn't tolerate my health issues. Yeah, I'm sure I came across as needy. What did he expect? I'm scared. And I suppose that I would prefer to find this out now rather than later. If he can't handle my fear and insecurities about this, he isn't right for me. I get that. But it isn't any easier.

Being alone is part of what made today's appointment so bad. I was overcome with anxiety before I even sat down to complete the paperwork. I had looked up some of the things that they were going to do to me in an attempt to make a diagnosis. There is nothing worse than knowing that something is wrong with you, yet having no idea of what it is, except for the things that doctors do to try to figure it out. I always advance directly to worst-case-scenario. I was in tears as I sat down in the waiting room, and there was no kleenex in sight. I resorted to using the bottom of my dress to wipe my nose, as I couldn't even find a restroom to steal toilet paper. By the time I met my doctor, I had reapplied my makeup twice; by the time he was finished with me, I had given up on makeup. The remains of my self-esteem were flushed down the toilet after I peed in a cup for the upteenth time. When I finally escaped to the parking lot, I sat in my car with my face buried in the steering wheel and let out those awful, body-shaking sobs that are reserved for the worst moments of your existence. When I pulled myself together a few moments later, I reached for my seatbelt and saw a small group of people across the parking lot, staring at me in horrified silence. I'm sure they were trying to decide if they should intervene. I simply blew my nose on the Subway napkins I found stuffed in my glove compartment, started the ignition, and drove away.

Now, I'm waiting for a call to let me know when I meet with another specialist, a top-notch urologist in the area. The initial assumptions from today's visit are that I have interstitial cystitis (as I originally thought) and fibromyalgia. Hopefully, I will find out something for sure very soon. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster, and I'm having a difficult time pulling it together.

Freefalling

2011-09-08T09:50:00.004-04:00

Here's what I know...

Yesterday at this time, I was content with things. I had a boyfriend who liked me. I was happy.

It's funny how quickly things change.

This morning, the boyfriend dumped me. There wasn't really a good reason for it. I think something happened. Maybe I'm paranoid, but there is no explanation for things to have been fine last night at 11pm when we were making plans to see each other today, and then for me to be suddenly single by 9am this morning. I'm not stupid.

I drove all the way to his house (30 minutes) only to know within 30 seconds of getting out of my car in his driveway that things were not going to work out in my favor. Ugh. I got the, "I can't give you what you want" speech. I hate that speech. This isn't the first time I have heard it. I don't even know what I want anymore; how the hell do all of these guys think they've figured it out? As I was watching him break my heart, my mind was racing, desperately trying to think of the right words to make him change his mind. I don't remember the drive home. I lost track of the exits. I'm not really sure how I ended up at my house.

I've got to learn to trust my gut. I knew something was going on. We went from spending every free second that we had together to barely seeing one another. He kept blaming it on work, but I know better. This is not my first rodeo. Girlfriend has been dumped before. I reminded him today that he was the first one to use the term "girlfriend" with me. He was the first one that said we were exclusive. I didn't volunteer any of those things. Yet, suddenly I'm the one who wants more than what he's willing to give me? That's pretty effed up.

My world is swirling around me. Nothing is as it should be. Not just the boyfriend, but work is weird. I'm still not sure what's wrong with me as far as my health. I want to drive to somewhere far, far away, but I can't seem to escape myself.

I feel the need to jump off from something, but there is no safety net. I'm freefalling, and I hate it.

Letdown

2011-09-04T00:50:00.003-04:00

I kinda feel like venting. This seems like a safe place to do so, since exactly four people read my blog on a regular basis (not counting the people who get here by Google searching "naked Swedish men").

I'm a little bit pissed off, and a little bit bitter, and a little bit depressed. I don't feel great. I'm disappointed that this surgery did not have the expected results. I expected to feel elation, relief, a returned sense of normalcy right about now. I expected that I would know that whatever was wrong with me was taken care of, at least for the time being, and that I would be able to return to my former habits. I miss pilates. I miss running. I miss feeling like me.

Granted, my issue is mild compared to those of others. I am not pretending that I am a poor, pitiful creature who everyone should feel sorry for. But I reserve the right to be bummed. I am frustrated. I just dropped almost a grand to cover the insurance deductibles for this surgery, and it was basically for nothing. I could have taken a really nice, much deserved vacation with $1000. My stitches hurt. My side hurts. I am tired of wearing yoga pants. I can't sleep, despite the fact that I have taken painkillers that should have knocked me out an hour ago.

I feel really alone.

I am bored with watching chick flicks and DVR'd episodes of Dateline. I don't want to read any more textbooks or novels. Tomorrow, I'm planning to trek to Ikea and shuffle around the aisles just to kill time. There is no fast movement on my end for the moment; all I can manage is a steady limp. Perhaps I could beg someone to push me around on one of Ikea's blue and yellow shopping carts, not necessarily because I need it, but because it would be the most excitement that I've had in days.

The boyfriend is off water skiing in South Carolina with his BFF and the BFF's bitch girlfriend. (The BFF un-friended me on Facebook, by the way, because the bitch girlfriend didn't like the fact that we were friends...I'm not really sure how to express how stupid I think that such a decision was.) Am I a little aggravated that Jeff is out of town? You betcha. Do I wish that he were here instead of there? Absolutely. I didn't even talk to him today other than some random text messaging, mostly him telling me what they were doing next (dinner! a boat ride! tubing!). I'm not sure that I particularly cared. And it pissed me off.

I think everything is pissing me off right now.

Tomorrow will be one of those days where my cell phone stays off, because if it is off I can pretend that it doesn't exist. And maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll find a pretty new mirror or bookshelf or piece of artwork that I can drag home from Ikea, and it will make me happy enough to forget that I'm miserable. At least for the moment.

The Pee Pee Diaries

2011-09-02T12:54:00.010-04:00

This is written just for the people who read my blog because they hate me. :) It proves that I have no shame, and that I have the incredible ability to laugh at myself. I consider it one of my greatest strengths.

I had surgery two days ago (Wednesday) for the nasty endometriosis. I prepped for it and worried about it, attended pre-op appointments with the boyfriend, and was so nervous that I didn't want to eat for two days prior to the event. Finally, Wednesday morning rolled around and my parents took me to the hospital where I would be sliced and diced. I don't really remember much of anything about it except waking up in the recovery room. I also remember trying to get dressed an hour or so later in the bathroom and feeling like I was going to pass out; the only thing I could think of was that I had to at least get my panties on so they wouldn't find me in a naked heap on the floor. And the kicker? There was no endometriosis. Zilch. What a bummer.

I'm back to square one.

I came home the same afternoon, only to be whisked back to the ER a few hours later because I had the sudden inability to go pee, which is apparently an important thing. After waiting in the ER with my mom for hours, laughing and crying at equal intervals because my bladder felt like it was going to explode, I was given a sexy little catheter and then a foley bag. In case you are unfamiliar, the foley bag is basically a little bag that you get to strap to your leg that catches your pee pee. It is the epitome of hotness. It took me a few minutes of sobbing hysterically to adjust to the fact that this bad boy was coming home with me. By the time I left the hospital, I told the three nurses that were finishing up with my vitals and labwork that I was going to go home and put on the shortest pair of shorts that I could find and prance around Wal-Mart so that I could show it off. Judging from their horrified laughter, I'm not sure that they knew what to think of that.

Yesterday (the day after surgery), my mom took me back to my doctor's office to have them check out the status of the pee bag. There was the possibility that I would have to wear it for 3-7 days, including over the Labor Day holiday, and if there were further complications, it meant a 3-7 hour wait at the ER to get someone to help me. The doctor that I saw yesterday took the bag and the catheter out, but she told me that I could not leave the office until I went pee. Sounds easy, right? Except that I couldn't pee. She told me that surgery is hell on your bladder, and it will flat out resist doing its job, especially if you are worrying about the fact that you can't go. She advised me to think about waterfalls and rushing rivers so that it would happen more easily. Nothing worked. I sucked down glass after glass of water, but all it did was make me nauseous. I was dehydrated, so it was going to take one of those rushing rivers to make me pee. My mom drove to Bojangles and brought me a large Sierra Mist. For two hours, I sat in the waiting room and chugged soda, randomly hiding out in the bathroom, pleading with my internal organs to stop holding me hostage in the gynecologists' office that was ironically decorated with lilies. (Clearly, the decor was chosen by a man.) Each time I failed to potty, I burst into tears, convinced that the foley bag was going home with me again, or that I would never be allowed to leave the confines of that bathroom.

It was during one of my stints in the bathroom, as I imagined trickling streams (of water) and pleaded with God to let me go (figuratively and literally), that I noticed the poster in the bathroom for a disorder called Interstitial Cystitis. I think it was pure luck that it happened to be in the bathroom that I was frequenting. As soon as I saw it and started reading the symptoms, I knew I had stumbled upon something important. After I managed to piddle in the potty (to which my doctor and nurse cheered with joy and hugged me...who else gets their own cheering section for tinkling?), I proceeded to google IC when I got home. Holy cow. I'm all about some webMD self-diagnosis, but I'm the first to admit that I'm usually wrong. This time, however, I think I hit the jackpot. Every symptom fit, and the most crazy thing is that IC is known as "endometriosis' evil twin." Their symptoms are that similar. Further investigation horrified me to no extreme, as I found out that persons with IC have to follow a crazy limited diet, including cutting out staples of my everyday diet. Among other things, no more chocolate, coffee, yogurt, soy, or tofu. As a vegetarian, I live on soy and tofu. And chocolate? OMG. I'm taking my findings to my post-op visit to get my doctor's opinion. But deep down, I feel like it was fate that I ended up in that bathroom with the IC poster. I've spent three years wondering what was wrong with me, and now I may have an answer.

On the down side, I feel like I got hit by a bus, followed by a tractor trailer and a herd of zebras. On the up side, I have two weeks off work to recuperate and get my wits about me. And I have some time to research vegetarian substitutes for tofu.

I'm open to suggestions on that one.

The Spaz Learns a Lesson

2011-08-22T23:39:00.008-04:00

I'm not exactly grouchy-pants anymore, due mostly in part to the fact that I had a day off to decompress from the stresses of retail during the back-to-school season. Lately, I have felt like every little aspect of my life has been yanking at me, begging for more attention than I have to give. I have become a pro at this juggling act that I am in, and I am not willing to let anything drop; however, my priorities become a little more clear each day, and it's nice to give my time and energy to those things that make me a priority as well.

Jeff and I had our first little disagreement this weekend. I will admit that it was partially my fault, not because I started it, but because I didn't tell him what was bothering me. Communication is not my strong suit, and I am not quite used to communicating with someone who is my significant other. His best friend, Brian, came in from out of town for the weekend, and the plan was for us to all get together either Friday night or Saturday night. I was really excited about the whole thing, mostly because I cannot remember the last time that someone I dated actually wanted me to meet someone that was a friend or family member. Friday night did not pan out because I had to work, and I felt like dog crap by the time I got off, and I was guaranteed to not make a good first impression. I opted for Saturday night instead, and after a full day of driving all over three counties to attend two separate wedding celebrations, I arrived at Jeff's at around 11 pm.

I was a little unnerved immediately upon arriving because Brian's girlfriend, Ashley, had shown up unbeknownst to me. This probably wouldn't have been a huge deal to anyone normal, but it freaked me out to epic proportions. I am incredibly shy when it comes to meeting new people, which is probably somewhat surprising to anyone who knows me well since they don't really see the timid side of me. I had explained to Jeff a week or so prior that I was glad to meet Brian without Ashley for the first time because I can't handle too many new people simultaneously. I also had a lot of anxiety over this situation because I was walking in as the outsider. They already had their established threesome, and I was the new girl. There was too much chance of me not being liked and/or being approved of for me to be relaxed about it. I could have had a full-blown anxiety attack within moments had I not willed myself to keep it together. I immediately clammed up and ceased to be able to string sentences together because my nerves were getting the best of me. Everything that my former therapist taught me about overcoming social anxiety went right out the window. I felt like a jackass and a loser.

To make matters worse, I did not hit it off with Ashley at all. I keep referencing the movie "Mean Girls" when I relay this story to my friends. Girls can be flat out nasty and horrible to one another, and it's petty and stupid and unnecessary. Having no experience or knowledge in general psychology, I can only imagine that this chick felt threatened by having another girl invade her space. She is probably used to being the center of attention, and while there was never the idea that she was jealous of my being with Jeff, she still did her best to make me feel unwelcome. Her body language was defensive, and she made snide little comments that only I caught the nastiness of. I kind of felt like I was in the twilight zone because this girl is at least five years younger than me, yet she made me feel like an intimidated little kid. The longer I stood there, the more pissed off I became at her and at myself for allowing her to get to me. Everything was just awkward. I could tell that I was the buzzkill, and I could not wait to get out of there. I even turned down the offer of a margarita that probably would have relaxed me enough to tough it out because I just wanted to go home.

My mistake of the whole night was telling Jeff that I was "fine" when he asked me what was wrong, even though he knew I was lying. I just didn't want to start something else and make an already crappy situation worse. These were his friends, and they were staying at his house, and I felt like the bad guy, even though I know I didn't do anything wrong. I drove home in tears, convinced that I had somehow blown it with the one decent guy that I have hit it off with in months....maybe years? We have since talked about what happened, but I don't really think that he gets it. Guys don't understand girls' craziness. They don't understand that we are territorial beasts and that invaders must be skinned alive and hung upside down from the nearest tree to serve as an example to any who attempts to come after. I was up all night worrying that Jeff wouldn't want to see me anymore because I was a spaz and awful at meeting people, and God only knows what he will think when he takes me to meet his mother. (Somehow, I doubt that his mom would do everything in her power to make me feel like trash, although I have seen the J-Lo movie, "Monster in Law," and Jane Fonda is my worst nightmare in that role.) My point is that I was all wrong about him being angry at me for being socially inept; he was ticked that I allowed someone to intimidate me at his own home without telling him what was going on. I get that; I need to work on verbalizing what is bothering me. It's hard to get used to having a boyfriend who cares enough to listen, especially when he thinks he may be part of the problem.

I also need to work on growing a set of balls. Because the next time I come face to face with that bee-yatch, I'm going to crush her like a little bug. Or I may simply skin her alive and hang her from the nearest tree to serve as an example to the next chick who tries to intimidate me. Bitches need to be taught a lesson, and this spaz will not get taken down again.

Grouchy-Pants

2011-08-20T01:08:00.005-04:00

I don't doubt that no one will want to read this. But I am grouchy, and I simply do not care. This is fueled mostly by the fact that I no longer sleep, even under the influence of heavy narcotics (prescribed by my doctor, probably in an attempt to make me stop whining). Not-sleeping causes me to be completely and utterly stupid. My mind is mush.

I am out of milk, and I don't have any clean towels, and I miss my munchkin. She has been with Rat Bastard all week with the exception of the few hours that I managed to snag her last night. On an up note, she is feeling a million times better, just in time to start school next week. When she isn't here, I don't know what to do with myself, so I find myself working a zillion more hours than normal, which I really did not think was possible. Tomorrow is my first Saturday off since April. It was supposed to be an entire weekend (gasp!), but then I was summoned to court on Monday because Rat Bastard doesn't believe that it is his obligation to pay child support, and he has once again quit his job. Now I have to work Sunday in order to take Monday off. As usual, I am irritated with Rat Bastard.

The minute I got a boyfriend, all of my guy-friends dropped off the planet. I guess it's no fun to talk to me when I'm no longer available to be their back-up plan.

My lawn is so out of control that my neighbors have begun to leave notes on my door begging me to mow the grass. I have a friend who normally does this for me, but he has apparently been backed up all week, and now I'm kind of hanging. It's awkward because I don't want to find someone else because we are friends, but I still need this to be taken care of. Otherwise, I'm taking a pair of scissors to my front yard tomorrow night.

Speaking of pants....wearing them hurts. Everything below my belly button hurts, and I feel swollen and fat and uncomfortable. My surgery is in less than two weeks, and while I considered chickening out for a brief moment in time, I know it would be a stupid decision. I can't decide if I am more worried that they won't be able to find out exactly what is wrong with me, or if I am more worried that they will find something that is worse than what I expected. My mind always leaps to worst case scenario. I guess that deep down, I am just concerned that this issue will not be fixed. I am not myself right now. I found out that I am actually going to be out of work for two weeks instead of just one, and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't secretly a little bit thrilled. Two whole weeks of not being in the mall...what will I do with myself? Sleep, read, and catch up on my DVR. But even more than that, I'm looking forward to getting back to my routine of running and pilates once this is all over with.

Aaaaaand, the boyfriend is good. I won't go on and on about him because I am still grouchy, and he makes me not-grouchy.

Tomorrow, I promise to wake up in a better mood.

The "G" Word and a Trip to the ER

2011-08-14T07:59:00.011-04:00

This post began as something completely different entirely. Midweek, I was in the midst of everything going wonderfully. I mean, it still is, but there was a little rockiness toward the end of the week.

Wednesday night, Kylie and I trekked to Jeff's for pizza and movies. We were happy to let the kids entertain themselves while we killed a bottle of Pinot Grigio. I bought all three of the girls matching friendship bracelets from my store, which they loved. One of the coolest things about this whole scenario is that Jeff and I each genuinely dig the others' daughter(s). We all stayed up late and got up too early, and therefore, we spent most of Thursday morning chugging coffee (us) and playing Wii (them). Kylie and I planned to run errands during the afternoon and return to Jeff's later so we could all go see Winnie the Pooh at the theater.

Around noon, Kylie began complaining of a headache and being tired, which I chalked up to the girls playing too hard. She spread out on the sofa and promptly fell asleep in my lap for the next hour. We headed home a little while later, and she slept through the entire 30-minute drive. Upon arriving home, she passed out in her room for another 3 hours. Her head still hurt, and she wouldn't eat. I gave her juice, and she promptly threw up. Then I realized she had a fever. I started to freak out. It was too late to find an Urgent Care facility or a pediatrician, so it was off to the ER.

My first clue that our night was not going to go as smoothly as I would have liked was that the ER was crammed with scary people and cops. It was only 9 PM, and I knew we were in for a wild night. The receptionist was a complete snot. I sent Kylie to slump over in a nearby chair while I checked her in. The chick could not get our names straight, and she could not figure out which one of us was the patient, which blew my mind. I wondered if we had been looking at the same sick child moments before. Granted, if I had to work in her place, I would probably be cranky, too. There was a guy who sat snoring for hours in a chair by the main entrance. Another guy (who was not a patient) had hijacked a wheelchair and punched numbers on the lobby telephone, randomly yelling at the people on the other end of the line and begging for cab fare from anyone within a 5-foot radius. Then he proceeded to yell at the police officer who was sitting behind the visitor's desk. Needless to say, the officer was not amused. There was also the guy who was yelling at his poor girlfriend for taking the wrong amount of insulin as he played around on his Motorola Razor. I wanted to bitchslap him as much as the receptionist. And speaking of assholes, Rat Bastard's reply to finding out that Kylie was in the ER was, "Ok, keep me informed." Really? That's all you've got? Even Jeff was willing to come up and hang with us had he not still had the girls with him. This is exactly the reason that Rat Bastard earned his nickname.

We sat in the waiting room for almost four hours. Kylie slept, and I hadn't even had the sense to grab a book before we left. My cell phone died before 11 because I had forgotten to charge it the night before. Once we were called back to a room, my munchkin had every test known to man performed on her. She had literally finished the antibiotic for the pneumonia/bronchitis that very morning, and the doctor was concerned that it was not gone. We were sent back for chest x-rays, performed by the coolest guy ever who told Kylie to hold her arms out like she was attempting to fly. Afterward, a nurse came in to draw blood, which I found incredibly painful to watch. Kylie barely even flinched. There was peeing in a cup, or more like peeing in a big helmet-like bowl and then pouring it into a cup. You haven't lived until you have wandered around the hallways of a hospital carrying a helmet of your little girl's pee because you aren't sure of what to do with it. After Kylie managed to throw up the glass of apple juice that she was given, the doctor gave her anti-nausea meds and ordered an IV of fluids. OMG...an IV. At first she was less than thrilled, but her only consolation was that my cell phone had died and I was unable to take her picture while she was hooked up to it. I'll admit that I cried while the nurse put it in, but I didn't let Kylie see. Once again, she was brave while I acted like a blubbering idiot. By this time, it was past midnight. I watched the timer count down on the IV machine and was relieved that it was only an hour. I was so ready to take my peanut home and pass out in our own beds. Imagine my surprise when the timer completed it's cycle and began again...for another two hours. Kylie slept through the entire thing while I stared at the wall. At one point, I determined that I was going to figure out how to use the telephone in the hospital. I punched numbers for twenty minutes before I got it right (punch "9" first, don't dial the area code). I called Jeff because I could not call anyone who was long distance and I had no idea of how to call my parents collect. At one point, I considered asking him to call them for me, and I wondered if that would be weird, considering they haven't yet met. I was so exhausted to the point of being completely crazed that I just needed to talk to someone.

At around 3:30 AM, Kylie was finished with the fluids and was diagnosed with having a UTI. Who would've thunk that a UTI could cause so many problems? We are in for another ten days of antibiotics that taste like hot garbage, and the doctor told her that she can't go back to summer camp for the last week because she needs to rest. That made her sad, and me too, I guess. This means that she will be Rat Bastard's parents for the week, away from me, which blows chunks. But at least she is feeling better, and that's what counts.

And as for the "G" word? Jeff has begun to refer to me as his "girlfriend." Holy moly. I couldn't tell you the last time that happened. The first time he said it, I immediately texted all of my girlfriends because that's clearly BIG stuff. All of the ladies out there know that as much as we want that title, we are not going to be the ones to bring it up first, because you know you will look and feel like an ass when your guy is not on the same wavelength as you are. When I explained that to Jeff, his reply was, "Well, I think it's pretty safe to assume that you are at this point, don't you?"

Gosh, I really lucked out this time, didn't I?

A Case of the Happies

2011-08-04T18:09:00.004-04:00

"Happiness hit her, like a train on a track. Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back...." -Florence and the Machine

Hooooo boy. Things are good in the World of Carrie!

Things are settling down at work, and my schedule is somewhat back to normal. I actually had two full days off this week! That hasn't happened since the first week of June! I treasured every single second that I was not in the mall. Things will start to get crazy again now that the back-to-school rush is upon us, but it should be organized chaos (knock on wood). I thrive on the hysteria of teenage girls frantically picking out jeans and t-shirts to wear on their first day of school. I was approved for another attempt at vacation time, but I am keeping mum on when it is. I don't want anyone to quit and jinx it. All I will say is that it involves a trip to see my Grandma(s). Grandpa(s), too. I am craving some family time right now.

Munch is slowly getting over her pneumonia/bronchitis. It was pretty sketchy for awhile. The antibiotics weren't working well, due in part to the fact that the liquid tasted like old garbage, and I could barely get her to drink it. No amount of mixing with juice, ice cream, or soup could disguise the nastiness. I finally asked her doctor for something else, anything else, and the alternative was an antibiotic that she may have an allergic reaction to. Lucky for us, that did not happen, and my baby is coughing less and regaining her healthy glow.

I am preparing for my week out of work after surgery. It will be a huge relief to no longer feel as though a Gremlin is trying to claw its way out of my abdominal area. I am registering for fall classes in a couple of days, and most of my week will be spent sleeping and getting ahead on assignments. I took my math placement tests today for school and completely aced them. I was so shocked. There were only 28 questions, and I blanked out on the very first one. Each question was based on your answer to the previous question, and when the questions started getting easier, I just knew I was blowing it. Either I am smarter than I thought, or I am a great guesser, because I placed right out of any remedial classes. I am so close to my degree, and the closer that I get, the more I want it.

Oh, and the boyfriend is good. Soooo good. We had date night with our kids this past Monday. It was the first time I met his two girls, as well as the first time he met Kylie. I was incredibly nervous; I knew that this meeting would set the tone for everything that comes after. I should not have worried. We pulled into his driveway, and Liz (9) and Ally (6) came racing out of the house to greet us. The girls all hit it off, and I got the seal of approval as well. At the end of the night, Liz told me that I was "awesome," and that I have great hair. She is a smart kid! We made homemade pizza and break-and-bake chocolate chip cookies, and then we all piled onto the sofa to watch Shrek III. Everything was so easy. Jeff told me today that after we left, the girls told him that they really liked me. His reply? "Good, because you're going to be seeing a lot of her."

A girl could really get used to this.

All Jacked Up

2011-07-29T06:57:00.005-04:00

It isn't even 7:00 AM. I have been up for 3 hours, maybe longer if you count the four hours (after I attempted to go to bed at midnight) that I spent tossing and turning and pleading with God to allow me a little shut-eye. My munchkin has pneumonia and bronchitis, and every time she coughed, I would jerk awake, ready to whisk her to the nearest emergency room. We spent the majority of yesterday morning at Urgent Care and CVS, attempting to find out (a) what was wrong with her, and (b) what antibiotic she could take that did not contain penicillin (which she is allergic to). Yuck. The meds that she was given are penicillin-free, but leave an aftertaste that is reminiscent of steel pipe. Delicious. If there has ever been a time that I needed/wanted to take some sick time, it's now. However, my assistant is on a much deserved vacation, and I am working a thirteen hour day today. My parents are each driving 90 minutes from my hometown to take care of Kylie in shifts while I am mercilessly folding denim and selling t-shirts. I am indescribably grateful.

Of course, it is good that I am able to reserve my sick days for myself to burn at the end of August. As it turns out, this painful ovarian cyst that I have been dealing with for the past three years is not a cyst at all. Instead, I have a lovely case of endometriosis, which is painful and aggravating, not to mention wardrobe inhibiting. Wearing anything other than stretchy jeans or dresses proves to be hell on my abdominal area. I haven't been able to go running or otherwise workout in a couple of months, so those stretchy jeans and dresses are much appreciated. I am having surgery in four weeks, which means that I get a week out of work to recover. Not quite the vacation I had planned for myself, but I will take whatever I can get. Kylie has promised to take great care of me, including making dinner, as long as it is microwaveable. The new boyfriend volunteered to take me to my pre-op visits. I think that's a good sign; he intends to be around a month from now.

Speaking of the new boyfriend, I don't think it's possible for me to like him more than I do at this exact moment. In between all of my running around with Kylie yesterday, we managed to pencil in date number three, which only consisted of hanging out at his house for an hour before I raced to work. I will take what I can get; we are planning to have dinner on Monday night with our kids. I am beyond excited. Between us, we have three daughters, which means he is sorely outnumbered. The thing that I like the most about him is that he is a great dad, quite the opposite of what I am used to from my ex. On top of that, he is incredibly smart without being boastful about it. He has a degree in biochemistry and a doctorate in pharmacy, but he doesn't brag about it. He reads important books like The Kite Runner and stuff by Ayn Rand. He makes me laugh with all the stories that he tells me about his customers at the Walmart pharmacy. Oh, and he calls me "dear" and it doesn't annoy me. My mom is going to love him, which is one of the first things I take note of when I go out with someone. I learned my lesson after I married someone that she warned me against.

Speaking of my mother, I have to go clean my kitchen before she gets here. I made a list of home repairs for my dad to work on when he arrives this afternoon. While my mom is equally capable of completing them herself should she choose, my dad needs something to do. I left a stack of books for my mom to dig into while she is here, as I don't think she has enough time to read and relax. Sounds kinda familiar, right?

What's in a Name?

2011-07-27T18:39:00.004-04:00

Kylie came home from camp today, flashing some awesome new silly bands.

Proudly, she proclaimed, "Mommy, look what my new boyfriend gave to me!"

Uhhhhh....boyfriend?

I asked, "You have a boyfriend now? When did that happen?"

"He's new, mommy. We just started dating." (She's eight. What does dating involve when you aren't even in the third grade?)

I was interested, so I dug a little deeper. "So what's his name?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't gotten his name yet."

Well, of course. Why would she?

At least she got the silly bands.

Getting it Right

2011-07-25T19:55:00.005-04:00

"Isn't this the best part of breakin' up, finding someone else you can't get enough of? Someone who wants to be with you, too?" -Liz Phair

Date #2 was soooooooo gooooooooood!

(Take a breath....I can't quite believe it myself.)

Oh boy. It was good. I thought about it All Day Long. It was the perfect day.

This boy cooked dinner for me, vegetarian style, and he wasn't weirded out by the fake chicken that we drove to Harris Teeter to seek out. He got brownie points for not using a recipe. We picked up wine. There was a Macintosh Yankee Candle burning. There was even a scary little thunderstorm raging outside. It was romantic without being overdone.

When I left for my date, I told my friend, Lindsay, that I was only going to stay for a couple of hours. I was determined not to be at his house long enough to require me to use his bathroom. No girl likes to draw attention to the fact that she goes pee! That didn't work out as I planned. I arrived at 2:00 and left eight hours later. It felt like I was only there for a few minutes. We were both a little nervous; dating is always so weird and awkward at first. But it was nice that we were at his place because I think that he was more in his element. His man cave was very nice.

Gosh, this guy is so incredibly easy to like. He is shy yet confident, a little good boyish and bad boyish, funny and smart. He opens doors for me. He has two beautiful little girls who he dotes on and has 50/50 custody of. We talked every single day for two weeks, and he never said anything remotely dirty to me. When I brought that up to him, he said that his momma raised him better than that. From what I can see, she did a good job.

Date number three is in three days. I'm already counting down...

Breathing it In

2011-07-23T23:07:00.003-04:00

I haven't been able to blog in almost three weeks. Just as I was getting settled into my brand new place, everything kinda blew up at work, and I have basically spent the past month within the four walls of my store. With the exception of having absolutely no free time, it hasn't been too bad. There was that vacation cancellation, of course, which blew; however, I will reschedule. Yesterday was one of my first days off in weeks. Kylie and I ran some errands, and afterward, I tried to finish unpacking. Yes...unpacking. As in, unpacking the stacks of boxes that are still lingering in corners of every room. I still haven't hung any decorations in Kylie's room. I feel a little guilty, but I'm not sure that she has noticed. Her little life has been filled with the complexities of summer camp and late afternoon bike rides with the neighborhood kids. When we moved here, all I wanted to do was relish in the fact that we suddenly had all of this free time on our hands, and it was wonderful. Then, someone yanked the rug out from beneath me, and I was suddenly on this roller coaster of busy-ness. I guess it's good for things to get a little rocky now and then; it makes me appreciate all of the stuff in between. There's lots of good stuff buried where I don't always look for it.

I have a date tomorrow, a second date actually. I don't even want to write much about it because I know that I'll jinx it. I always tend to over-think, over-analyze, over-plan everything. Those wheels in my head start turning, and then I start to panic that there may possibly be some change in my life that happens for the good, and I have to find a way to stop it. Then there is the part of me that somehow believes that any dude showing the slightest bit of interest in me that lasts longer than a couple of weeks must have some serious issues. How awful, right? I keep trying to find something wrong with this guy. There has to be something there, something that is going to get under my skin and make me nuts. Some quirk, some flaw, some tick that I just won't be able to get past. But oh gosh, I haven't found it yet. What does that mean? Gasp....perhaps there will be a date number three. Imagine that!

Random Tuesday Thoughts, part 578

2011-07-05T18:47:00.007-04:00

The Fourth of July really messed me up. I spent all day thinking that today was Monday. Kylie and barely saw any fireworks last night, as there was a nasty thunderstorm in our area, and I assumed that fireworks would be postponed until tonight. Wrong. She came rushing inside shortly after we got home in the late afternoon to usher me outside to see this:

Way cooler than fireworks, although we did manage to see a few pop over those same trees a little while later. Seeing that rainbow is the luckiest I have felt in weeks.

I deactivated my FaceBook page yesterday. I'll probably end up reactivating it soon enough, but I felt that it was probably best if my impending emotional breakdown not be publicized for all 131 of my friends to see. Not only have I been a big ball of stress lately, but CVS managed to lose all of my prescriptions when asked to transfer them to Winston. My hormones went a three day bender while the pharmacy tech tried to dig her head out of her ass long enough to locate my pills. Thank God it wasn't anti-psychotics that they lost. Anyhoo, my reason for deleting the account is that I just need to be away from the constant contact of other people. It sounds bizarre, but I feel kinda smothered by all of the updates. If I could figure out how to get rid of my cell phone, I would do it. I think I was born to be a hermit.

When I picked Kylie up from camp today, I asked her how her day was. The response I got was, "Everything was fine until I lost my underwear..." I guess we've all had days like that, haven't we?

Change of Plans

2011-07-03T20:38:00.005-04:00

This post may seem a little dark. I'm in kind of a funk, and I've been drinking vodka pretty heavily for about an hour now, which is truly the only thing that a girl should do when she is in a funk.

I am supposed to be in Michigan right now. RIGHT. NOW. I should be lounging on the beach of Lake Michigan in Elk Rapids with a good book while Kylie splashes in the water. But nope, I'm not there.

I'm here.

Sigh.

I'm looking at the bright side. It's the Fourth of July, and traffic is terrible up there because everybody and their brother (and MY brother) was in Michigan this weekend. Am I the only person without plans for the fourth? This past week was so brilliantly screwed up. I had kept Kylie out of camp since we were supposed to be leaving mid-week, but when plans changed, I had no choice but to send her to Rat Bastard's for the week. My house is empty without her. Not that I have been home all that much, as I am going on my 14th day straight of working. I'm not complaining about the work part...at least I have a job to go to, right?! I just hate being home alone. I have quickly settled into this new routine of coming home to kids bustling in and out of my house. This week, I have made every attempt to get Kylie when I have enough time to hang out with her before racing back to the mall. She was supposed to be here tonight, but Rat Bastard bribed her by taking her swimming and promising more of the same tomorrow. I can't really compete with that.

I'm also slightly disturbed by conversations that I have had with Rat Bastard that hint at the upcoming demise of his current relationship. This is the chick that he was screwing while we were married and that he now has a kid with. I could really care less about his or her happiness, but I do care about Kylie's, and their breakup will undoubtedly be hard on her. Just when we start making some progress in therapy, let's throw another wrench in her little life, shall we? Could I please set Chuck on fire now? I wouldn't be missing a single thing; he hasn't paid child support since April, and getting anyone at DSS to return a phone call is the magical equivalent of my scoring a date around here.

But then, what am I complaining about? Guys are complete dirtbags. Haven't I realized this by now? I am almost finished reading Elizabeth Edwards' memoir, Saving Graces. It's really a fantastic book, and it serves as a subtle reminder that Elizabeth and I clearly have similar taste in the scum of the earth. Story of my life...devote everything to one guy who doesn't give a rat's ass about me in return. And she was hopelessly devoted to him; I can relate. Makes me honestly believe that I'm better off alone. Who needs to be continuously let down?

My glass is (half) empty. I'm going for more vodka.

Happy Carrie

2011-06-27T20:18:00.003-04:00

"How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours." ~Wayne Dyer

My world has been a busy, busy place. Tonight is all about relaxing on the couch with a vodka-infused watermelon slushie. I will, however, disguise it in a coffee cup when I sit outside on the front porch so that my sweet, elderly neighbor will not question why I keep coming inside to refill whatever that might be in my wine glass. I am still loving the new neighborhood. There are still a few boxes lingering in the corners of some rooms, but they can wait for a rainy day. I'm too busy enjoying all of the extra time that I have on my hands to worry about what is in there.

The move could not have come at a better time. I have been working more than ever, but for all good reasons. I dragged my feet in making some decisions that were lingering, but things have managed to work themselves out better than I could have imagined. There is no space in my world for negativity. I have learned to trust my intuition and to always have a backup plan. And I have also learned that karma always circles around. It is a simple pleasure to see people get what they deserve.

On a sidenote, I am thoroughly enjoying the new stat counter that I installed on my blog. I love that I can see exactly who was here, when they were on, and what they read. It's unfortunate that some former dates have found themselves talked about on here, but it is highly amusing in every other way. It is also pretty amusing to see what google searches bring people here. This blog is just a past-time for me; I don't put my most serious thoughts and ideas here.

That is what anonymous blogs are for. :)

Moving Muses

2011-06-19T08:26:00.004-04:00

"She needs wide open spaces, room to make her big mistakes. She needs new faces. She knows the high stakes." -Dixie Chicks, Wide Open Spaces

It has been a week to the day since my move. It has been simply wonderful.

I had this great idea in my mind that I would move in on Sunday and be completely unpacked by Tuesday. I am such a moron. That is in addition to working a twelve hour day on Monday to prepare and run inventory at my store. I guess I was planning to forgo sleep in order to unpack boxes. Things are coming together slowly, but just the way I want them to. It is amazing to be so close to work. Kylie has settled into her new YMCA summer camp effortlessly. Maybe soon I will be able to breathe that huge sigh of relief that I have been holding in. It's getting close.

In the past seven days, I have learned a lot of really cool things:

(1) Moving to the suburbs instantly makes me want to host a cookout in my backyard, even though I don't own a grill and I don't really know enough people to invite (yet).

(2) It is actually possible to have really cool neighbors. You know, the kind that you can borrow a cup of sugar from without worrying that they are going to lace it with rat poison before they give it to you. I have also already met the neighborhood creepy-guy (he is across the street and diagonal to the right). But the sweet grandmother-ly lady who is across the street and diagonal to the left has already invited me to church, and I think I'm going to take her up on it this morning. It was on my list of places to find once I settled in.

(3) I really can live without a dishwasher. And knowing that I had to hand wash the dishes that were sitting in my sink morphed me into my mother faster than I ever could have imagined. I suddenly cannot stand nastiness in my kitchen.

(4) Having a front porch to drink coffee on in the morning trumps all of those extra closets that I gave up. Being creative with my space is way more fun than hiding things behind closed doors. Also, I have twice as many windows here which translates into twice as much sunlight!

(5) I have entirely too much crap. This is after I donated massive amounts of stuff to Goodwill while I was packing.

(6) Coming home late at night from work to a house is way scarier than an apartment, especially when you can't remember where any of your light switches are.

(7) I can play my music really, really loud, and no one can hear it next door.

(8) My brain isn't so obviously dark and murky when I don't have two hours in my car everyday to get lost inside of the thoughts that lurk in there.

(9) A Rainmaker shower head just might complete my life.

(10) It is truly possible to put things behind you when you move far, far away from them.

In a way, I feel like I have moved to another planet. It's nice here (even though all of the cable channels are different).

:)

Fresh Starts

2011-06-12T18:56:00.000-04:00

"Hello Fresh Start! I've been waiting for you!"

I am moved. Praise the Lord!

My family spent seven hours helping me pack, load boxes onto a big truck, and unload them at my new pad. In a way, it's a little surreal. I feel like I am completely lost, yet right where I am supposed to be. This move has been a long time coming.

My entire life was crammed into the back of a truck today. That's an odd thing to see, just so you know. When I pulled into my new driveway for the first time today, I was absolutely giddy with excitement. I couldn't get things into the house quickly enough. I had so much energy and excitement coursing through my veins that I felt like I could have run a marathon. But that wore off soon enough, and now I'm freakin' exhausted. I would really like to take a shower, but I can't find the box that I put my body wash in, even though I'm sure I labeled the box on every side. I may just shower with dish soap today. My dish soap is apple scented.

Mid unpacking, Kylie and I went to orientation at her summer camp at the YMCA. She is completely stoked. Within five minutes of our getting there, she had made a new best friend, Kayla. Kayla's mom came over to talk to me, and it turns out that she is from my hometown, (which is nowhere close to here). I hope that this lucky streak continues. My girl and I are both in need of new faces and new places.

It's going to be a wonderful summer.

Honestly...

2011-06-05T20:47:00.000-04:00

My head is in so many places. There are boxes everywhere in my apartment. I have been packing and spackling and cleaning all day, and I feel like I didn't finish anything. I'm taking a break now to watch "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" and to try to convince myself that a midori infused watermelon slushie will put me in a good mood.

I spilled a bottle of Kylie's hot pink nail polish on our beige carpet this afternoon because she didn't put the lid on tightly. I spent ten minutes on my knees with carpet cleaner and nail polish remover to no avail. I have determined that I will not be getting my deposit back. I should stop spackling, too. But I feel kind of accomplished when those holes in my walls disappear, even if only slightly.

I leave for vacation three weeks from Wednesday. The only thing that is helping me to retain my sanity is the idea of laying on the shore of Lake Michigan, baking in the sun and smelling like Hawaiian Tropic. And I get to see my grandparents. I miss them so much. I randomly find myself crying in my car because I worry that I won't see them again. Who needs therapy now?

On a happier note, there is clearly hope for me in the dating scene, as this bad boy was in my inbox. This is the reply that he sent me to a message that I wrote yesterday. And it's in all caps, which only adds to the wooing factor. Why do I continue to torment myself?

"I'LL JUST GET THIS OUT OF THE WAY.I ACCEPTED 100% DEBT IN THE DIVORCE TO KEEP MY HOME,BLAH,BLAH BLAH.I KNOW IT SOUNDS CRAZY BUT,MY HOME IS THE ONLY THING I'VE GOT LEFT DOWN HERE BESIDES MY JOB.THE OTHER REASON IS THAT SOMEDAY I MIGHT MEET SOMEONE THAT WOULD APPRECIATE A NICE HOME.THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS SUPPORTING MY DAUGHTER.IN A NUT SHELL ALL THIS IS WHY I HAVE TO WORK THE WAY I DO.WHICH I'M CONTENT WITH,JUST TIRED.ON THE UPSIDE.I DO HAVE MY WEEKENDS. I KNOW WHAT U MEAN .WHEN I HAVE JOSIE FOR THE WEEKEND.I GET WORN OUT CARING FOR HER THAN A 15 HR SHIFT.LITTLE BUGGERS HAVE ALOT OF ENERGY.I LIVE IN A CAPE CODE HOME.SHE LOVES FOR ME TO THROW THIS BIG BALL UP THE STEPS SO SHE CAN KICK IT BACK DOWN.AFTER ABOUT 30 MIN.I'M WORN OUT.FINNALLY COULDN'T THROW ANY MORE & SHE SAID.WHATS THE MATTER OLD MAN.I COULDN'T BELIEVE SHE SAID THAT.LOL. I DRIVE TO CHARLOTTE WHEN I HAVE ENGINE SCHOOLS LIKE CUMMINS & CATAPILLAR & THEN IN THE EVENINGS GO TO WORK.I HAVE TO HAND IT TO U.WORK ALL DAY & THEN DRIVE HOME & TAKE CARE OF UR DAUGHTER.LONG DAYS. WALKERTOWN IS 10 MIN FROM WINSTON SALEM.NORTHEAST UP ROUTE 158.3 YEARS AGO I LOOKED AROUND 50 MILE AREA LOOKIN FOR A NEW HOME.I WAS NOT GOING TO LIVE 10FT FROM ANOTHER HOME.FOUND THIS ONE.I DIDN'T WANT A HOUSE PAYMENT & CONSTANTLY FIXING THINGS .WELL THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN.TOOK A COUPLE YEARS TO GET IT THE WAY I LIKE IT.STILL BATTLING THE YARD.SO ARE U BUYING OR RENTING?DO U HAVE FAMILY HELPING U MOVE?GOT TO HELP MY BOSS MOVE HIS DAUGHTER BACK INTO HIS HOUSE SOMETIME NEXT MONTH.SHE'S ON THE 3RD FLOOR OF APARTMENT COMPLEX. WAS GOING TO START ON WASHING MY HOME TODAY & HAD TO GO BACK TO THE DOC AGAIN.POISON IVY.I HATE THIS STUFF.THE BAD PART OF IT ALL IS THE WEEKEND I CAUGHT IT.DIDN;T MOW THAT WEEKEND,GO FIGURE.WOW I'VE OVER DID IT.SORRY.BEEN BABBLIN.IF U NEED HELP MOVING.LET ME KNOW.TIME FOR DINNER.TALK TO U SOON."

Babblin' indeed.

Grrrrrrrr...

2011-06-02T19:33:00.007-04:00

I am convinced that my life began to go all to hell the minute Oprah went off the air.

Today was supposed to be really great. I was all geared up to start packing my life up into the millions of cardboard boxes that have been hogging all of the space in my townhouse for the past few weeks. I promised Kylie that I would pick her up from school early, and we were going to head to our new city to get our house keys. Early in the afternoon, I had an appointment to have the AC recharged in my car, as it has only been blowing warm air during this 97 degree heat wave.

After I dropped Kylie off at school, I proceeded to clean out both of our closets and pack one box full of my jeans and hooker boots (labeled as such on the outside of the box). I was on a roll. Once Kylie and I hit Winston-Salem, I was sure that we would be in and out of the car repair shop within 45 minutes and have some free time to hit the mall for some house essentials before the scheduled time to get our house keys.

Not.

The car issue went from bad to worse. Instead of the $77 I expected to spend for an AC evaluation and recharge, I needed to replace a teeny tiny little tube that was going to up my bill by $40. Okay, whatever. If that's what it takes to get cool air in my sweet little Focus, so be it. An hour and a half later, the new part was in, but it turns out that my air compressor needs to be replaced. I guess I'm just going to be sweaty for awhile. To my surprise, the guy who had been working on my car walked outside with me as I was reeling from the shock of the $1300 I had been quoted for the repair. (He had been giving me the eye the entire time I had been sitting there, but I just attributed to the booby dress that I was wearing. I mean, who can blame me. It was all I could do not to melt during the drive there.) I was throwing the schedules that I had been writing into the passenger's seat, and he said, "Can I ask you a question?" Oh dear. Here it comes. He asked, "Would it be too forward if I gave you my number?" What do I say?! I wasn't really attracted to the guy, even though he was nice and everything. But I let him write it down on my receipt anyway because I didn't want to crush his heart, especially since he didn't charge me the extra $40 for the part that didn't actually fix my AC. He is probably sitting by his phone right now, waiting for me to text him, and here I am blogging about how I am not going to do it. Maybe that's what I'm doing all wrong. Maybe instead of waiting for lightning to strike and believing in love at first sight, I should just go out with anyone and everyone who asks me. Last night, I watched the movie "Someone Like You" that stars Ashley Judd and Hugh Jackman. It is one of those that I have seen a million times, and yet I never tire of it. Marisa Tomei's character proclaims in one scene that she has figured it all out. She says, "Truth is, all we really need to do is adjust our radar a bit. Learn to be attracted to men that we're simply not attracted to." Is that it? I think I'm just too snotty and stuck up to find a boyfriend. I should simply accept it.

After all of this, K and I trekked over to the new house, slightly defeated from the car disappointment. I was hot, tired, and annoyed, but I needed to measure some of the rooms to decide how my furniture was going to fit. Time is winding down; we move in a week and a half. After walking the house for a few minutes, K and I were left on our own to look around and lock up. K asked me if she could use the bathroom, so I checked to make sure that the toilet flushed before she got down to business. Yup, it was good, so my child proceeded to take a great big poo in there, only to find that it wouldn't flush again. Oh no. How to fix this? I couldn't leave it! It would fester and become stinky. But I couldn't get it to flush! I called every guy I know, including Rat Bastard, before I dialed my mom. My step-dad (who just came home from a four day stint in the hospital) answered the phone to my poop panic, and he walked me through every possible suggestion. Finally, he advised me to go outside to check the breakers, as I had been assured that the water had been turned on in the house. While standing outside in the grass, analyzing all of the little switches, I failed to realize that I was standing on a giant mound of ants. In fact, by the time I noticed them, I was covered in them. What to do?! Stop, drop, and roll? I was freaking out, swatting them off while I simultaneously began to itch everywhere. I'm pretty sure there were still some in my hair by the time I got home a couple of hours later. And at the moment, the poo still wouldn't flush. We eventually had to go to the store and buy a couple of gallons of water to pour into the tank to flush it. Who knew you could do that? By the time we were finished, I didn't want to measure anything. However, I stuck it out and measured the rooms, only to discover that my sofa and my dining room table are too big to fit where I want them. Crap. Now what?

Today certainly did not play out the way I wanted it to. I'm stressed out of my mind with worrying about this move, and now I get to add car repairs to the list. It looks like I may have to cancel the vacation I have planned for the end of June because there is just too much to do. I'm not ruling it out yet, but it isn't looking good. What a bummer. I am in dire need of some away time right now. Maybe I could vacation on another planet instead?

How These Things Go

2011-05-30T21:37:00.006-04:00

Friday was date night. It was a little spontaneous, as we were originally planning to go out on Saturday when I got off from work. As it went, Rat Bastard decided that he wanted his weekend with Kylie to begin on Friday night, so I wound up with some free time.

It wasn't a bad date, but it didn't exactly leave me breathless either. It was mediocre, I guess. First, I kinda wanted him to figure out what we were going to do when we went out. As the girl, I think that my only responsibility for the first date is to show up and participate. I don't want to have to plan it and pay for it. (I didn't pay for this one, for the record.) In this situation, I was driving an hour to get to the city where he lives (close to where I am moving), so it wasn't exactly in my element to choose a venue. We went back and forth, back and forth about it. Finally, he suggested a movie, which is one of the worst things you can ever do on a first date because it absolutely eliminates the conversation aspect. Beforehand, we had some time to kill, so we went to Buffalo Wild Wings to have a drink. Not to sound whiny, but by the time I had sucked down my Midori Sour, I was almost glad that we were going to the movies. He spent most of the time that we were sitting at our table watching a baseball game on the big screen TV anchored from the ceiling behind me. Maybe he was nervous, and maybe he just isn't a dazzling conversationalist, but I finally stopped coming up with things to try to talk about.

Don't get me wrong, Hot Bank Man is a super nice guy, and I don't mean to sound nasty or ungrateful that we went out. I just don't think he was that into me after we talked for a bit. The fact that I am a divorcee with a kid seemed to tweak him out. It seems that this is the usual occurrence with my dating life. They all like me until they get to know me. Once my crazy rears its ugly head, they bolt.

So here we go again. Another one bites the dust. Are any of us surprised?

P.S. Some random stranger left this note (on the back of his business card) tucked into the window of my car while I was at work yesterday morning. I think it was the guy who was behind my associate and I when we came back from the bank. Either way, I was pretty flattered.

How to Catch a Boy

2011-05-25T19:07:00.004-04:00

I almost titled this "How to Score a Boy," but I decided that it sounded a little dirty. And that isn't exactly the tone that I was going for.

I have come to the conclusion that men are like leprechauns. They are sneaky, quick, and cunning, and just when you think that they are going to lead you to a pot of gold, they take off again. Bastards. It's no secret that I don't really date that much. I have tried and failed at the online dating thing. I have decided that I am absolutely not going to find Prince Charming on a website. I keep hoping to bump into him in line at the grocery store, or maybe he will rescue me when I find myself stranded with a flat tire somewhere, etc etc. This is the reason that I never leave my house without makeup. Who knows when he will pop up.

Enter Hot Bank Man. Oh yeah. He's a cutie. I have known this guy for about three years, going back to when I worked in Greensboro. He worked at the bank branch that my company used. We didn't really talk very much way back when, mostly because he was so adorable that I instantly developed a massive stuttering problem when he was within five feet of me. Therefore, I avoided him. Smooth, I know. Imagine my surprise when, after starting my not-so-new-now job, I ran into him again. Fast forward to a couple of months ago when I got past my stuttering problem and actually spoke to him. I used my words, and it wasn't a complete disaster! Now, going to the bank is the highlight of my day. He waves to me from his little office, and I get really giddy and wave back while somehow managing to contain my giggling until I get back into my car. When did I morph from a 30 year old woman into a 14 year old girl? Shit, I'm digressing.

Yesterday, Hot Bank Man was all decked out in a suit. Oh boy, he was looking mighty dapper if I may say so. I even managed to comment on it to him while we were there, but for whatever reason, I developed the nerve to reiterate how fine he looked via a short and sweet email that may or may not have started with the word "wow!" (He gave me his business card a while back, so I ripped his email address from that.) I couldn't believe it when he emailed me back a "thank you!" and his phone number. Oh yeah, girlfriend's got game. Needless to say, I thought long and hard about when to text him (as he said that I should). I dare not do it before 5pm while he was still at work, as that would seem desperate. I had to wait until at least 7:00, but then I had to do it at a random time (i.e. 7:12pm) instead of 7:00 on the dot, because otherwise, it would seem too planned. Gosh, has dating always been this hard?

Long story short, we talked back and forth for awhile (okay...hours....), and we have a date this weekend. Oh my. I haven't been on one of those in (oh gosh....was it last year sometime?!) awhile. Here's hoping that I remember how to act in public.

In Limbo

2011-05-22T14:26:00.003-04:00

"I don't exist well in limbo," -Jane, Drop Dead Diva

The clock is ticking, and Kylie and I make our big move in three weeks. I have slowly begun to check things off my "to do" list in order to keep things as organized and painless as possible. I have completed paperwork to transfer Kylie to her new school and registered her for summer camp. My (current) living room is cluttered with boxes that are just waiting to be stuffed with all of our belongings. We are both eager to pack everything up, but I can't stand to live among complete chaos. I am using this time to go through things and eliminate what I can live without.

I am also using this opportunity to purge myself from leftover emotional baggage. This place that I'm leaving has a lot of memories for me. I have lived here for almost four years, and (in a sense) I have done a lot of growing up here. When I moved here, it was with a husband who already had one foot out the door. This townhouse has seen me through a nasty divorce, a custody battle, and several relationships that left me feeling like I was better off single. I am looking at this move as the chance to leave it all behind. I don't want to spend my time wishing to be a part of someone's life who doesn't feel the same for me. Maybe it isn't meant for me to have a significant other in this lifetime. As hard as it is to admit, I would rather be alone than be treated like crap. I've never had a relationship that felt otherwise.

I took this weekend off in hopes of prepping for my big move. In fact, I have spent the past two days eating ice cream directly out of the container, immersing myself in the DVDs of Drop Dead Diva Season Two. I just needed some time away from people and responsibility. Last week, I went back to my old mall in Greensboro to help out a store manager who was on vacation. This was the first time that I have returned there since I left my former company. It was really strange to be back. The place reminded me of so many things that I would have rather forgotten. I was surprised, though, at how many people remembered me there. The teller at the bank, my former UPS guy, the barista at Starbucks. I guess I'm not as unforgettable as I imagined. At the same time, it reminded me that I am in a better place now. I don't want to go back to my unhappiness.

Ironically, my horoscope today says, "You've been doing a lot of cleaning up and clearing out. Since this project has been going on for several years now, you must be doing a particularly thorough job. Finally, it seems as if you're getting things straight with your karma. Today will be a big day, Capricorn. You may be able to leave part of your childhood behind, as at last you understand that it's ancient history." Pretty fitting, huh?

Three weeks to go. Let the countdown begin.

What Matters Most

2011-05-03T20:27:00.002-04:00

I am running around in circles. There is so much on my to-do list, and instead of completing things, I add more and more and more to it. I am not accomplishing anything.

I am stressing about this move. It is approximately six weeks away, which seems like a long time and not much time all at once. I am worried about registering Kylie for camp at the YMCA. I am worried about transferring her to another school. The school that is closest to our house is super awful, and I thought that I had really done my homework on that one. I visited the school a week or so ago, and the receptionist was on the phone with someone that I took to be her boyfriend. The conversation on her side went something like, "Boy, you stupid! No, YOU stupid! " Needless to say, I was not impressed.

I took Kylie to an opthamologist today and learned that she may need to have eye surgery. She has a condition called exotropia, which means that she has somewhat of a wandering eye. It can be corrected with this surgery that rearranges the muscles in the eye. I was expecting to go to this specialist and hear a definite "yes" or "no" on the surgery, but what I got was, "Well, let me know if you think she needs it." What? I don't know if she needs it. I don't know what is best for her in this case. I am not the expert. This isn't impairing her vision, but at the same time, if it continues, then there is the potential that she may be made fun of in school. I dealt with that when I was a kid, and it sucked beyond explanation.

Speaking of being made fun of, I apparently had an allergic reaction to a new facial moisturizer. You know...the kind of moisturizer that you slather all over your face with the intent of making it moist. Yeah. My face has broken out in this crazy red rash that is not pretty in any sense of the word. I told my mom that this is my payback for being so vain. I never pass a mirror without looking in it. Usually, I am pretty content with what stares back at me. Right now, I can't even wear makeup. I wish wearing a bag over my face was in my company dress code. This is what I get. Karma. Damn karma.

Overall, I am just looking to survive the next six weeks. I want this move to go as smoothly as possible. I think a big part of my stress is knowing that I am going to something completely new and unknown. On the good side, I have a job that I am already settled into. I haven't made a move this big since I was 20 and moved to Charlotte in an attempt to find happiness. I found a lot of things here, but I'm not sure that happy was one of them. When I leave this place, I will take with me the only thing that really matters, my sweet little girl. Everything else can stay here; they weren't important enough to hold on to anyway.

Nuggets

2011-04-20T20:49:00.005-04:00

(Thanks for the title, Brea. I love you!)

This has been an odd week. My munchkin is spending spring break with Rat Bastard, and therefore, I don't really know what to do with myself. There are bits and pieces of any given day where I imagine having time to myself, where I am not responsible for packing lunches, brushing teeth that aren't my own, and convincing someone other than myself that it's a great idea to get out of bed. I daydream about not sharing the computer or the TV. I fantasize about only cleaning up my own messes. I imagine rushing off to hot dates without worrying about finding a babysitter.

I have a very active imagination.

In reality, I find myself coming up with reasons to work late just so I don't have to come home alone. Rather than rushing out of my store at 5pm to pick my munchkin up by 6, I linger around for an extra twenty or thirty minutes. Watching American Idol isn't as much fun when I don't have someone to choose favorites with. I have been eating dinner directly out of cans. What happened to my plans for relaxing in long, luxurious bubble baths with candles? My life is boring without Kylie. Friday night cannot come fast enough.

I had a touch of excitement on Monday of this week. A guy that I went out with a couple of times about a year ago suggested that we get together. We are still Facebook friends, although we don't talk regularly by any means. Over the past few months, we have gotten our kids together to play and talked sporadically on the phone. Occasionally, he would ask me when I was going to invite him to my place (as we always went to his), but when I would suggest a time, he would drop off the earth. Typical douchebag. So when the invite popped up at the beginning of the week, I was skeptical, but I still took the bait. After all, my peanut is away for the week, so I am supposed to take chances, right? Ugh. Wrong. I was bored out of my skull. I expected that this would be a good time for some adult conversation, but instead, he blabbered about his work for 90 minutes. I spent the majority of my time watching him peck away on his computer while he finished some paperwork. I found myself attempting to hide my yawns, and then just giving up. It was easier to find a reason for a quick exit when I appeared exhausted. I sent my assistant text messages begging her to rescue me. I just wanted to be at home, snuggled up with a blankie on my couch, muttering to the hampsters. They're such good listeners. The night could not end fast enough.

And now for my good news. My big news. The thing that I have been afraid to talk about, think about, blog about, in fear that I would jinx it. Are you ready?

This is my new pad. We move mid-June. No more hour commutes. No more rush hour traffic on Friday afternoons. No more spending $320 each month in gas just to get to work. I am indescribably ecstatic. We will have a backyard, and hardwood floors, and normal-looking neighbors. I am going to be seven minutes from work.

It finally feels as though the pieces from the past three years are falling into place. I have been clinging to these little nuggets of hope, praying that I would find the place where I belonged. I have felt a gentle steering of my decisions into directions that I might not otherwise have chosen, all the while thinking about the end result. Doors opened, prayers were answered, and I have achieved exactly what I set out to do. Who knew that I would find exactly what I was looking for on the end of a quiet little street?

I can't even put all of this into words. June cannot come fast enough.

Hello, My Name is Michael...

2011-04-07T21:43:00.001-04:00

Thought I'd share my most recent message from my online dating pool. I think I only keep the thing going for the occasional giggle. Please note, this guy messaged me a few days ago, and I blatantly ignored his message. Of course, he took that to mean that he had simply not tried hard enough, and he put in a little extra effort. Enjoy.

"Hi, I'm Michael, and I would really like to
see if you might be interested in what I
have to offer as a man, friend, compaion
for life's journey. I'm a mature man who
doesn't drink, well maybe a drink or two on
New years, lol. Work six days a week, and
love my job. I'm a loving father who knows
family is really all that matters when it's all
said and done. I've gotten to the point
where I don't owe for anything, great credit,
and have goals that I'm still acheving. I
love restoring and painting old cars, mostly
muscle cars, which are my favorite. I love
the country way of life, but live in the city. I
have property where there's only green
fields of soybean or rows of corn growing
all around, that I hope to build my dream
home one day. I always try to keep
everyone laughing, and enjoy laughing till
I'm crying, lol. Would like to causally date,
no pressure and see if we can be great
friends first and then go from there. I've
tried it my way before in the past, with
rushing and bringing love making in too
soon, but this time would like to try it Gods
way. What have we all got to loose, right?
So if I interest you, I would love to hear
from you sometime soon. Untill then..."

I am such a lucky girl.

Ramblings

2011-04-05T14:56:00.005-04:00

I don't really care what the captain says. I'm not ready to give up on Random Tuesday Thoughts yet. Not really because I have been posting regularly by any means, but because lately, random thoughts are all I can really manage to string together for a blog post.

Ever since we came home from the beach a couple of weeks ago, I just haven't been feeling it. Being an active participant in my life requires so much time and energy and thought, and I just can't really muster it. This is in part to the fact that I'm simply bored with my existence and partly because of this stupid medical thing that popped up. All I want to do is lay around and sleep, but my schedule doesn't really allow for lazy.

I'm going to try the big move thing again this summer. I had it all planned out last June, but I chickened out last minute. Looking back, I'm glad that I did. I think that there are bigger things in store for me than what I was leaning toward back then. I feel like I'm suffocating where I am. Everywhere I go and everything that I see here reminds me of memories that are better off buried. I need new faces, new places, and new beginnings. There is so much to do to prepare for a move, and it's all so overwhelming. But I'm pretty miserable right now, and I have to take responsibility for my own happiness. I can't exactly sit around and wait for someone else to come along and paint a rainbow for me, can I?

I was supposed to go on a blind date recently, but I canceled last minute. I feel like kind of an ass, because I'm sure that this guy was going to be really nice and everything. He is a teacher in a town about thirty minutes away from me. After I found out that little piece of information, I did what any self-respecting single girl would do...I googled all of the schools in the county (there weren't that many) and looked up the faculty members on the school websites until I found him. Isn't that what school websites are for? I think what threw me off is that he was really hairy in his picture. As in, he had a big poofy hair and a beard, and there was chest hair poking out of his polo. I feel mean just talking about it, but I have to get this off of my (non-hairy) chest. And honestly, I don't see the point in pursuing a relationship with someone in this town when I'm moving over an hour away in two months.

That's all I can muster for this post right now. I'm going to take a nap.

Can I Go Back?

2011-03-24T18:30:00.006-04:00

Kylie and I came home from Myrtle Beach on Sunday. It wasn't nearly long enough of a trip. Going back to my day to day life was physically painful.

I spent almost a week doing this:

Kylie only wanted to play on the beach once.

I took this one while we were sitting at the poolside bar. I had a drink called something-something-Monkey. All I remember was that it had banana, chocolate, and coconut in it. And liquor.

This was my favorite picture. It was our last night in Myrtle Beach, our server was hot, and the wind hadn't yet destroyed my hair.

I need another vacation.

Vacaaaaaaaaaaation!

2011-03-17T08:49:00.006-04:00

I am here.....

That is the view from my room. I may never go home. Kylie and I left town yesterday and headed for our favorite tourist-y town, Myrtle Beach, SC. It was a four hour drive, and we only stopped once, a new record for us. We both get a little antsy in the car. Even a standard trip across town at home can result in two or three rest breaks. We are apparently easily distracted by shiny things on the side of the road.

In the car, Kylie made a list of things that we plan to do while here. I booked a room at a resort with three restaurants and over 20 water features. I'm talking two water slides, six pools, four hot tubs, three lazy rivers, etc. etc. I wasn't expecting the slides to be open because it is off season, and their operation is weather dependent; however, it is 70 degrees and they are functioning. Yay. While we will be spending the majority of our time less than 50 feet from our room on lounge chairs, we also have other plans. Please refer to the list:

Do not assume that the last item on the list implies that I do not love Kylie on a regular basis. I think it is a direct reflection that my sweet daughter has been struggling through a rough patch lately and that she is as much in need of this vacation as I am.

Last (but not least), I found this beautiful artwork in the notebook that Kylie was doodling in after I passed out from the ginormous Long Island Iced Tea that I had with dinner last night. If anything has ever made me happier that I recently decided to return to my natural brunette hair color, it's this:

The best part of the trip is that I get limited cell service in my room, which means that I can force myself to take a break from the BlackBerry and everything that reminds me of my day to day life. Maybe I'll throw it into the ocean before we leave.

I'm Shallow (and So are You!)

2011-03-08T09:57:00.006-05:00

I'm not quite sure why I continue to be an active participant in the world of online dating. While there are undoubtedly lots of great guys out there, they cease to exist on the site that I'm on. I have met some good guys, I admit. But when the vast majority is considered, I am way the hell out of their leagues. Waaaaaaaay out.

While I find it pretty easy to admit that I'm as shallow as a plastic kiddie pool, be assured that I do feel a little bit guilty when I get an email from someone that I quickly dismiss. After all, everyone has their good points, even if I'm too much of a snob to appreciate them. I'm not saying that everyone on this site is beneath me; that would just make me sound like a little bitch. There are a fair share of guys that are so good looking that I am completely intimidated by them. I'm sure they're awesome and may even grant me a pity date, but I can't do it. Even on my best hair day, my self esteem is pretty mangled. I have to do my best to preserve what is left of it.

I have come across plenty of average guys in my search for the new Mr. Carrie. This is really all that I'm asking for. I have no desire to marry a doctor or a lawyer. I want a guy who isn't afraid to get dirty, yet who can clean up well enough to take me to the China Buffet for unlimited spring rolls. I don't want a rich guy, because I don't know how to mingle with rich people. And while he needs to be attractive, I don't really go for the buff, chiseled face type. I'm not Cindy Crawford, and I'm okay with that. I have no interest in dating the male equivalent. That being said, there are a few things about these somewhat average guys that grate on my last nerve, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get past them. Here is my list of deal-breakers, which is by no means a complete one, in no particular order:

(1) Your profile picture cannot show you wearing camouflage anything, and you must not be holding anything dead. The only exception is if you're in the military. Then it's kinda hot.

(2) If all of your photos show you in the same outfit, posing in front of random trees or miscellaneous shrubbery, it appears as though you have set up a photo shoot for yourself, and that's creepy. At least change your shirt, and I'll never be the wiser.

(3) If you're in law enforcement, don't post a picture of yourself flashing your badge in your bathroom mirror. Cheeeeesy! And keep your shirt on.

(4) If you email me, and I don't write you back, I'm not interested. That sounds mean, but it happens to me, too, and I don't get offended. This is online dating, not Sunday school. I don't have to stroke your ego because that isn't the name of the game. Don't send me a second email asking me WHY on earth I ignored your email. And don't give me that BS about how you respond to every email that you receive; you are a LIAR.

(5) The site that I use has a feature that allows you to click a button that says "Meet Me" on my profile, which allows you to express your (unsurprising) interest in me without the hassle of sending a message. This button is the equivalent of a Facebook "poke," and it is annoying. Using it tells me that you are lazy and probably incapable of stringing together the few words necessary to write a sentence such as, "Hey, great profile....you are clearly the coolest chick on the planet..." If you use the "Meet Me" button, rest assured that you will never actually meet me in real life.

(6) If I went to high school with you, I will not respond to your email, especially if you clearly do not remember me from school. I have improved with age. You just got weirder.

(7) I have a height requirement. I have not written about it on my profile, because it's not your fault that you are short. I'm only 5'4", so you don't have to be an amazon to catch my eye; however, I just bought two pair of 4" wedges for summer, and I don't want to tower over you in them. I'm sorry. It hurts my feelings that I'm that cruel, too.

(8) If I needed any more proof that this site is full of douchebags, my neighbor just popped up on my matches. I shit you not. If I wanted to date a crazy, insecure basketcase, I wouldn't find him online. I would simply go knock on his door.

Maybe bar hopping would yield better results for me. Can I take Kylie along? That way there are no surprises for the guys who hit on me. I'm very up front about the fact that I have a child, after all. I can let her drink a virgin strawberry daiquiri and allow them to draw their own conclusions.

The Perks of Being Single

2011-02-21T08:22:00.007-05:00

"What if I came to the end of my life and realized that I'd spent every day watching for a man who would never come to me? What an unbearable sorrow it would be, to realize I'd never tasted the things I'd eaten, or seen the places I'd been, because I'd thought of nothing but him even while my life was drifting away from me. And yet if I drew my thoughts back from him, what life would I have? I would be like a dancer who had practiced since childhood for a performance she would never give." -Memoirs of a Geisha

My dating life is a big hot mess. It always has been, and I don't really imagine things looking up any time soon.

I have this uncanny ability to pick guys that have deep rooted emotional issues, and my nature is to want to fix them. Dust them off, gloss them over, make them shiny and new, and turn them into my boyfriend. See? Look at how nice I made you. Now, stay with me forever.

Ugh.

Looking back on my relationships over the past few years, I can reflect on how insane I was to hope that any of them would work out. I think that deep down, they were all great guys, and I still love each of them in their own dark little ways. But as far as long term, I just don't see it. I'm sort of comfortable in my own skin right now. I have finally reached that point where I'm settled and content with my existence. Not to say that I'm not open to whatever, but I don't really have the patience or time to let someone come in and shake things up. That may be the wrong way of looking at it, because isn't that what relationships are? You jump in and take on someone else's crazy and make it work for both of you, all the while projecting this image of content and happy and normal. I just don't think I'm ready for that.

It was very important for me, once divorced, to create a life of stability for Kylie. I looked back on my childhood and picked out the things that I did not want for her to deal with as she grew up. I always imagined that it would have been better for her to grow up in a two parent home, even if one of those parents wasn't necessarily Rat Bastard. But my choices over the years haven't been any brighter or sunnier, and I think I managed to do okay on my own. It would have been much worse for both of us to let certain people remain permanently in our lives. I'm really okay being alone.

These days, things are so bizarre in Carrie-land. I have more guy friends than girls, and I'm not really sure what that says about me. I look at most of them, and I just don't see them ever fulfilling that part of me that seems to be absent. Some of my relationships are such a roller coaster of frustration and occasional exuberance that it makes me wonder if they are worth pursuing. But then, I can't imagine my life without them. But I am hesitant to take on anything else. New people come into my life, and it's hard to let them in. I think that I have been burned so often that it's difficult to see the rosy side of anything. I am such a pessimist that I automatically assume that I look for the bad side of everything. In a way, I am oddly grateful for that, because it allows me to see the things that will be a detriment right off the bat. On the downside, it makes me shut myself out from people who may otherwise be good for me.

Maybe I'm just not emotionally mature enough to have a significant other. Parts of me feel like I don't really deserve it, and then other parts think that the guys that I meet don't deserve me. It's a fine line, and I'm having a difficult time following it. I'm somewhat coming to terms with the fact that maybe it isn't in the cards for me. Ironically, when I was younger, I never imagined myself being the girl who had the husband and the 2.5 kids. Maybe I tossed that image out to the universe, and the universe said, "Ok, if that's what you want..." And then that greater power sent me loser after loser to remind me that single-ness was what I had asked for all along.

My focus recently has been on finding my place in the world. Where do I imagine myself living and being appropriately happy? I'm not sure that it's where I am right now. I think of picking up and moving away from everything and beginning anew. I have always had that nomadic mindset that everything around me is fleeting, and I have to leave it before it finds a way to leave me. It's funny because this is the longest that I have been in one place as far as my adult life is concerned. That's mostly because of Kylie and not wanting to uproot her life because of my restlessness. But what else is out there? I feel like I need to go and find it, whatever it is. I am tired of waiting for "it" to find me.

Someone hand me a dart.

Today...

2011-02-17T22:14:00.003-05:00

Today, I...

(1) Decided to quit both of my classes for this semester. I just can't make myself care about religion and marketing when my head is in the clouds.

(2) Went for a three -mile run, then spent the rest of the day slathered in Tiger Balm because it HURTS to run three-miles. (And then I argued with the person who told me I was "overdoing it," because he recently dumped me, and I'm still hurt about that, and I didn't want him to know that he's probably right.)

(3) Had date night with Kylie, where our server expressed surprise that I finished my entire entree AND ordered chocolate cake for dessert. (See #2. I earned that damn cake!)

(4) Dumped an entire bottle of water in my purse. Still haven't figured out how I managed that.

(5) Found my first gray hair. Oh gosh.

(6) Thought a lot about my family and my life and what direction I want things to go in. I didn't get very far on that one. But it does involve running and lots of chocolate cake.

Hamster Sex

2011-02-15T09:40:00.005-05:00

Kylie has new pets...two to be exact. You probably guessed what they are already.

Yes, we have hamsters.

Last Monday, Kylie went over to her friend's house to play. About an hour later, she ran home and asked me if she could have a hamster. My initial thought was, "No way...how do I talk her out of this?" But she looked at me with those big, blue pleading eyes, and the Mommy Guilt set in. I instantly remembered all of the times she has begged me for a pet and I have had to turn her down. I'm not home enough to take care of a dog, and I'm allergic to cats, so there go the obvious choices. Birds are kind of boring, although they are beautiful and whatnot. So I agreed to the hamster, and Kylie ran back to her friend's house to pick out our newest addition to the family. To my surprise, a few minutes later, she came home with two little bundles of joy, complete with a cage, food, and a bag of cedar chips. What had we gotten ourselves into?

Kylie assured me that her friend's mom told her that the hamsters were both girls. She immediately found a place for them in her room, and we chose to name them Bella and Pinwheel. I know it isn't fair to pick favorites, but Pinwheel was the cutest, and Bella was somewhat of an ass. But they were fun to watch in their little cage, running on the wheel, burrowing in their cedar chips, blah blah blah. Kylie brought them downstairs to play with them a couple of nights ago. I have never seen a kid so excited about a pet. It was all fun and games until I started to carry the cage back upstairs to Kylie's room.

That's when I saw it. Were they wrestling? Fighting? Omigoodness no. They were having hamster sex, right there in front of me. I felt so dirty just watching it. I gasped, and Kylie dashed over to see what had happened. She said, "Oh mommy, I know what that is! They are doing S-E-X!" I don't know which surprised me more: the fact that Bella was presently mounting Pinwheel or the idea that my seven-year-old knows what S-E-X is. There were way too many thoughts running through my mind at that moment.

Last night, Kylie and I made the trek to PetSmart to pick out a new (pink) hamster cage for Pinwheel. We bribed my neighbor to put it together for us after staring at the (insufficient) instructions for an eternity. As we sat there and watched him assemble it, Kylie launched into a full-fledged explanation of why we needed a new cage. It went something like this:

"My hamsters were having S-E-X. They might have babies now. People have S-E-X, too, and that's how they have babi...."

Holy hell. The neighbor and I were both horrifyingly embarrassed, and he cut her off mid-sentence. Thank God. I don't know where she learned all of that. Maybe from her whore father, although I don't really think he is the best teacher of the birds and the bees. I didn't know any of it until I was in high school and my best friend felt sorry for me that my mom had never had the talk with me. I just hope there are no hamster babies. Oh gosh, I've heard they're violent and eat each other.

Kylie and I brought the new cage back home and separated the hamsters. If I'm not getting any, then they aren't going to be getting any either. We also decided that we needed to do a little bit of name-changing also; after all, Bella turned out to be a boy. Pinwheel is now named Bella, and Bella is now named Edward. Yes, we are still Team Edward around here.

And now I am the crazy lady who blogs about her hamsters.

200th Post

2011-02-11T21:15:00.000-05:00

This is my 200th post. I didn't really put as much thought into it as I did for my 100th post. This is mostly due to the fact that I didn't even realize it was my 200th post until I started to post something completely different this morning and noticed the count; that post will wait for another day because it simply wasn't 200 worthy.

I'm not really sure what I set out to accomplish with my blog. I guess I just wanted a place to write without caring what others thought. The funny thing is that there are so many things that I would never in a million years post here. Any monkey can google my name and find this, so I would be nuts to write some of the things that I really think. I have every intention of starting an anonymous blog where I can really let it all out, but I haven't been motivated enough yet. Plus, I barely have time to write here, much less on another blog, too.

Today is a pretty monumental day because the Justin Bieber movie comes out. I realize that I am now 30 and therefore entering the creepy stage with my fascination of this tween idol. However, I can play it off courtesy of my daughter and act as though I am merely attempting to humor her. (I say that as I sit in line at her school to pick her up with Bieber blasting on my stereo.). We are going home to change into our coordinating Justin Bieber t-shirts, then we are going directly to the theater.

I already had such a fantastic day today. I went for a three-mile run this morning-the first one in a couple of months. It felt amazing. I met my friend, Sean, at the mall for lunch, and we got matching Wonder Woman (fake) tattoos. His said "POW!" and mine said "KABOOM!"

I got fantastic news from work, which blew my mind a little. Did I mention that it was a great hair day, too? I should go play the lottery. Maybe 200 is my lucky number.

A Case of the Mondays

2011-02-07T19:11:00.003-05:00

Today was one of those days that was incredibly yucky. It was me against the world, and the odds of winning were not in my favor.

I turned my phone off because I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want text messages. Maybe I'll keep it off. Forever.

Anyone watch Glee after the Super Bowl last night? I can completely relate to the scene where Sue Sylvester destroys things after her meeting with the principal. It's days like this that I wish I had taken up boxing. It would feel really good to hit someone today.

I'm so ready for a vacation. I was planning to go to Michigan, but part of me just wants to vanish for a week and not tell anyone where I am going.

Maybe I won't come back.

Welcome!

2011-01-31T08:25:00.001-05:00

I would like to take a moment to welcome my new readers!

One of the things that has made me super happy lately is the affirmation that people in the US are allowed to behave like crazy, psychotic nutjobs, and I have the freedom to write whatever the hell I want about them.

Isn't that fantastic?

Mr. Wishy Washy

2011-01-25T21:40:00.003-05:00

I recently had a relationship end. One that I really didn't blog much about here, mostly because I could only imagine what a trainwreck it would appear to be from the outside looking in. Of course, that thought process in itself proves that this was not a healthy relationship. Hell, it barely qualified as a relationship.

One of these days, I will learn.

I can't recall being in a long-term relationship that truly made me happy. My first serious boyfriend was in college, and I loved that boy more than I could ever put into words. We were on again/off again for a couple of years. No matter how horrible he was to me, I kept coming back for more. I knew that if I waited around long enough, he would realize how much I loved him. It never happened.

Then I met my now ex-husband. He popped up out of the woodwork only a few months after things went south with the boyfriend. He showered me with attention, flowers, time. All the things that my last relationship lacked. I thought to myself, "ahhhh...this is how it's supposed to be." And so I went for it; I jumped in feet first. But I could only stay afloat for so long. This man that I thought was The One really wasn't. He didn't want me any more than the first guy did. And I knew that if I waited around long enough, he would realize how much I loved him. It never happened. Only this time, there was more at stake, so it took me longer to accept it.

I guess I'm just a sucker for punishment, because I dated around a little (a lot) after my divorce, and then I promptly marched out and found someone else who was guaranteed to make me pine away for him. God, I fell hard. You know, in that way that I swore I would never allow to happen again. We had a blast whenever we were together, we talked for hours every day. He understood me. For the first time in forever, I felt like maybe I wasn't completely unloveable after all. But then there were all of those times he left me hanging, the dates that he blew off, the times that he made me feel unimportant. And being in the midst of it, I made excuses for him. He gave me just enough to know there could be something wonderful, but never what I needed when I needed it. Still, I didn't want to give up. I knew that if I waited around long enough, he would realize how much I loved him. It never happened.

You can imagine where this story ends. It isn't exactly in my favor.

There is nothing worse than going from having a handful of something to finding yourself with nothing. You get used to those late night phone calls, and then you're suddenly staring at a quiet phone. Someone says something that reminds you of something that he said, and it stings a little. No matter how stupid everyone else may have thought you to be for sticking it out, you knew you had to try. Because at least you knew that you weren't left with the what-ifs. Those are the worst. It's worse than being rejected.

Now I have to wait for my heart to heal. I wake up in the morning, and the first thing I remember is that things are different. It's like cold water being thrown on you. Suddenly, reality is different, and it blows. The worst part is starting over, knowing that the next person I date is going to have to learn me. My quirks, the things that I'm afraid of, the skeletons in my closet. And there is that possibility of being rejected again, and it makes me skittish. I tread lightly when dating is concerned, because I don't trust anyone. Too many people have hurt me, especially lately. It's enough to make me completely gun shy. I don't do this hurt thing well. I don't want to go through this anymore.

Yuck.

Hey Sally

2011-01-22T15:27:00.000-05:00

So I took the weekend off. Kylie is on her way to a sleepover. Where does that leave me?

Let's just say that I shaved my legs and bought some tequila. Things could get interesting tonight.

:)

On Turning Thirty

2011-01-05T19:34:00.008-05:00

Today is my 30th Birthday. Holy hell. How did that happen? I went through the same emotions as everyone else. I freaked out about it for awhile, and then I simply embraced it. Everyone says that the best is yet to come, and I believe them. When you approach a milestone birthday, you find yourself reflecting on everything that has happened up until that point. The past ten years have been kind of a wild ride. But the funny thing is that the second I woke up this morning, I truly did feel as if it was all behind me. I can suddenly say, "That happened when I was in my twenties," as though that explanation alone somehow justifies any horrible decisions that were made. In a sense, I feel wiser, bolder, and way cooler than I did last night when I was still a measly 29.

The things that run through my mind about the last decade include:
Quitting college after a year and a half because I felt like I wasn't smart enough.
Unexpectedly getting my first major promotion.
Marrying and divorcing a bastard.
Having a beautiful daughter who made my life worth living.
Getting fired and learning that I could come out fighting.
Making millions of mistakes, but learning from all of them.
Going out on a lot of bad dates.
Going back to school because I realized that I'm smarter than most of those 20 year olds.
Letting go of my first love, and deciding that it was worth the risk to try to love someone else again.
Learning to trust my gut.

Today, I let Kylie skip school halfway through the day so that we could hang out together. I had no desire to spend my birthday alone. We had lunch at Brixx Pizza, where I ate an entire wild mushroom pizza (with vegan cheese).

Then we went to Pier 1, Barnes & Noble, and did a little Christmas (yes, Christmas) shopping at Banana Republic. After shopping, we drove to this pottery studio where we were able to pick out our own piece and paint it ourselves. They fire it for you, and in a week, you can pick up your finished masterpiece. I have always wanted to do it, and today was the perfect time.

Kylie chose a piggy bank shaped like an ice cream sundae, which I thought would be impossible for her to finish. I picked out a cool bowl that I wanted to paint to match my kitchen.

My child clearly is an artist at heart. Her bank looked amazing, even before it baked.

I decided that I hated my bowl halfway through, rinsed off all of the paint in the sink and started over. It was the closest I came to a meltdown all day. I can't wait to see the finished product.

Here is to new beginnings, getting a do-over on all of the things that I got wrong in my twenties, and to embarking a new chapter in my life. I think that there are great things in store for me.

Licensed to Drive

2011-01-03T18:42:00.005-05:00

Every now and then, I have one of those days where I manage to WOW myself. Not really because I have done something so incredibly awesome that others would be impressed with me, but moreso because I have somehow managed to do anything worthwhile at all.

I took today off to go finagle with the DMV. It's license renewal time, as the current one expires in two days (on my 30th birthday!!). The thought of going in there has terrified me for years. In fact, as soon as I renew a license and get a glimpse of the expiration date (5 or 8 years in the future), I start to dread it. It brings on a cold sweat like I can't even describe. There is just so much that is involved in it. This visit required taking the sign/vision test, changing my name (from my divorce almost two years ago), and changing my address (from the move over three years ago). I just knew that I would get arrested for not completing these in a timely manner.

On the way there, I drove extra carefully. I paid attention to road signs and practiced naming them in an attempt to quiz myself. Who knew there were so many road signs?! I've never really noticed them before! In the parking lot, I backed into my parking space in an attempt to prove that I, too, am a great driver. This is despite the fact that in 14 years of driving, I have never successfully parallel parked, and I am terrified to pass other cars on a two way highway, even if there is no oncoming traffic. I was really nervous about the sign test. As I waited, I studied them over and over. Everyone that I talked to about the sign test warned me about the railroad sign. How hard could it be to miss that one? There is a big black "X" in the middle after all!

I marched into the office with the printouts from the DMV website showing the regulatory and warning signs. I also had my social security card, divorce decree, power bill (for the address), and a novel. I was prepared for the wait. Good thing I was ready, as the computer system that they use for the photos was not working properly, and each photo took about ten minutes to complete. I looked around the room and wondered if anyone else had spent as much time on their hair as I had that morning. I have lived with an ugly driver's license photo for the past five years. I'm not going through that again.

I only waited for an hour and forty minutes. Ironically, my ticket number was "30," which I took as a good omen. And I passed the test with only one miss. Any guess on which one I got wrong?

Snow Blows

2010-12-26T10:43:00.006-05:00

I am not a fan of snow. Currently, there are several inches of this white awfulness blanketing the ground outside of my apartment. My store is closed, and therefore I get the day to stay in my jammies. I made myself French toast and hot chocolate, and I'm planning to spend the afternoon sleeping and catching up on my DVR. This would be way more fun if Kylie were here with me. Instead, she is with Rat Bastard. It's always so quiet when she is gone. I can never feel completely at ease when I am home by myself. Turning up the volume on the television doesn't make me feel any less alone.

I went on my date last night with B. I'm not really sure how I feel about it. I always have such high expectations, as though I expect sparks to fly instantly. This guy is good looking, smart, and uses good manners, which all count for a lot. The movie (Little Fockers) was just okay, which I am not holding against my date in the least. Plus, I was completely exhausted from working non-stop for the past two weeks. I kept nodding off during the movie.

We met at the theater, and the first thing that jumped out at me when he got out of his car was how he was dressed. I'm not incredibly judgmental, and it was a first date after all. I was wearing jeans, boots, and a nice sweater. He had on jeans, a Tarheels t-shirt, a hoodie, and Timberland boots. The boots threw me off. But really? You couldn't find anything a little more date appropriate than a t-shirt with a sports team on it? He gave me a brief little hug when he walked up to my car, but I was already not feeling it because the boots were bothering me a lot. But then, he put his hand in my hair, tugged on it a little bit, and said, "Is that a weave?" What? Really?

Besides the boots, there were just a few things that were throwing me off. He kinda strikes me as wanna-be thuggish. I got that vibe a little bit from talking to him on the phone. He uses phrases like, "Baby, I'm chill." I wish I could say it for you like he does. It's difficult to explain. I wouldn't let him pick me up at my apartment, which I think bothered him a little. He asked me the other day if I wanted to "chill" at his place or mine after the movie, and I nixed the idea entirely. He seemed insulted, and I explained to him that I would be an idiot to be alone with someone that I barely know. I was a little peeved that he didn't seem to respect that. On Christmas Eve, I talked to him on the way home from work at 8pm or so, and I was very much looking forward to coming home to see Kylie. The week had been a blur because of work, and I hadn't really been able to spend much time with her. Despite just talking to him on the phone, B kept texting me. "What are you doing?" and "Wake up!" Then he called again, and I didn't answer. The ensuing text message said, "I just tried to call you." Yes, I am aware. I told him that I needed some space, and that if he didn't back off I was going to feel smothered and get scared off. He didn't understand, and I think he was upset. It kinda ticked me off a little. B told me yesterday that he was sorry and that he had been drinking. Does that make it okay?

Anyway, back to our date. Everything seemed fine, minus the thug-ness. I just don't get that. We went to TGI Friday's after the movie, and we shared an appetizer and had drinks. Well, I had a diet coke, and he had four beers. Does that strike anyone else as odd? It struck me as strange. Especially considering that it was snowing and he had to drive home in that mess. I was glad I drove separately. Maybe four beers isn't a lot; I don't drink it, so I don't know. But in the course of 45 minutes, it seemed like it. The worst part is that he really seems to like me, and I don't want to hurt his feelings because he is so nice. But I'm not sure that I'm feeling it. Certain things bother me.

I want to go take a nap now.

**UPDATE** A few hours after I posted this, B sent me a text message asking why I didn't feel the same way he did. Shortly after that, he sent another message demanding that I send him $25 to compensate him for our date last night. In fact, he demanded it twice. He was serious!

My Year

2010-12-22T23:23:00.003-05:00

It's that time again...the time when one year is almost over and another is getting ready to begin. I did the whole "my year in status" application on facebook, which is the one and only application that I bother with. As I was scrolling through to decide which statuses were cool enough to make it onto my board, I realized that this year was kind of foggy.

It went by so fast, and it was so jam packed with work and terrible dates and being frustrated with all of it. I want next year to be more positive and less mind boggling. Some things made me laugh, but there was a lot that made me cry.

Here's to changing that in 2011.

Boys and Beasts

2010-12-20T20:49:00.003-05:00

Tonight involves a glass (or two) of wine, watching Beauty and the Beast with munchkin, and wrapping teacher gifts. My Christmas tree is lit and smells all pine-y. I'm kind of sad that I have to take it down in a couple of weeks. I've been known to leave it up until after my birthday in January. So far, Kylie has only spilled the beans on two of my Christmas presents. I can't wait to use my new food processor (I asked Santa...aka my dad...for one.)

Oh, and I met a boy. Well, kinda met him. We haven't met met, but so far, he is far ahead of the game. Once in a blue moon, I find a good guy online, and I have my fingers crossed for this one. We have had non-awkward conversations on the phone, and he is really good looking, and he likes dogs. Another plus...he's employed. No kids, never married, same age as me. Our first date is going to be Christmas night, which sounds a little odd, but it's the first time we can get our schedules together. My mom and I were going to see Little Fockers together on Christmas night, but she is going to my brother's instead, so Brian (the hot guy with the dog and the job) said he would go in her place. Let's hope this goes well. I'm due for some good man-luck.

Agggggghhhhh!

2010-12-18T18:17:00.003-05:00

See that title? That was the sound of frustration.

Today was nutty at work. The entire holiday season has me ready to pull out my hair. I took a Saturday night off in hopes of going out with friends, but by the time I left the store, all I wanted to do was come home and crash. It's snowing a little (barely), and I have new PJs, and the Millionaire Matchmaker is on DVR. This is perfection.

My love life is not perfection. What else is new, right? It's the internet dating thing. It's kinda wearing me down a little. Parts of it are fun, but other parts are just as terrible as regular dating, only I can do it from the privacy of my living room.

Tonight, I got a message from user 222111000, which I thought was odd because of the all numbers thing, but I clicked on the profile to check him out. The first thing that I noticed was that the profile picture was a guy and a chick. That's really weird to me. Some guys have pictures of themselves with girls, but they label them, "my sister" or "my friend." I never buy it. I scrolled down to read the "About Me" section, and this is what it said:

I'm not really a man. I am actually a woman. I am e-mailing woman to warn them about my ex who I found has an acoount on this site. he has also created a disgusting list of the woman he is interested in contacting and why.

Seriously? So then, of course, I had to open the message that he/she sent to me. It said:

Hi,
I created this account because today I found some disturbing things in my now ex-boyfriends apartment. I went online to see what else he might be keeping secret and found this account.I saw that he has been conversing with you. As of today we are broken up but I feel obligated to warn you about this man. His username is Activematt.

Part of me thinks this is really funny, and part of me is perved out by it. I looked back through some of my older messages, and sure enough, there was Activematt. He didn't really stick out to me because I hadn't talked to him very much at all. Reason being, he creeped me out a little. I'm glad I trust my instincts. Sure, this chick could be nuts, but I can't really imagine myself going to all of the trouble of creating a profile on a dating website for someone that I hadn't been pretty wild about. Hell hath no fury....

Of course, Activematt isn't my only prospect. There is the guy who, when I asked him to describe himself in an email, used the word "submissive" in regards to his personality. Um....weird, yes? Perhaps I would like a man who allows me to kick him around a little bit, but I don't want him to be aware of that.

Then, there is always Whplumme, who Facebooked me after we had emailed on PoF. That's always the next logical step, you see. That was really cool and everything until I realized that he had added about ten other women on the same day as me. Maybe I was jumping the gun a little, but I don't need to be reminded that I'm just one of the many chicks that someone is scoping out.

Does this mess get any easier?

Is There a Horseshoe in My Ass?

2010-12-16T19:40:00.017-05:00

This might seem a little like Random Tuesday, but I can't help it. This is the first day that I have not been overcome with stress because of work or school, and therefore, I can blog about all of the weird stuff that has been floating around in my mind. My apologies.

Last night at midnight was the deadline for all of the work from this semester. I only took two classes this time around, as it was the first time I have taken courses in almost nine years. I needed something to occupy my "free time" when I'm not at work. I spend a lot of time at home pacing around and wishing that I had something to do, even though there are never enough hours in my day to do the things that I should be doing (i.e. dishes, laundry, etc). Then, there was this little voice in the back of my head that told me that I was wimping out because I was only taking two classes, although I know that this sort of logic was/is completely insane, considering that my life is completely packed with busy-ness. But, truth be told, two classes kicked my ass. Toward the end, I was struggling to catch up on reading and essays, and I spent the past two weeks panicking over a PowerPoint presentation that I had to basically pull out of my ass. I spent the last 48 hours pulling all nighters; I'm talking a total of nine hours of sleep since Tuesday. I managed to get everything in except for my final exam for my Literature class, an essay that accounted for 20% of my grade for the course. I went to bed exhausted and slightly defeated about not finishing. I was resigned to getting an 80% in the class, which just pissed me off considering how hard I had worked. I woke up to an email from my professor saying that she had not received my final, and that she needed it by 9 AM in order to post final grades. Holy crap. I wrote that paper faster than I ever imagined possible and submitted it. I finished the class with a 100 average. My other class earned a 98. I couldn't quite believe it. Those grades made all of the hard work worth it.

Sooooo...enough about that. Kylie and I made peanut butter balls and cookies this weekend. I called my grandma for her fabulous Christmas cookie and frosting recipe. She and I baked these together when I was little, and every year, she sends a package to me from Michigan full of cookies in bell shapes, tree shapes, and Santa shapes, complete with pastel frosting (except pink...Grandma said that pink does not seem Christmas-y) and sprinkles. Kylie and I made our attempt at them Sunday, and this was our finished product:

They tasted exactly like Grandma's, and I could not have been more surprised!

We also made peanut butter balls, which are absolutely delicious. This is how they turned out:

Not so pretty, huh? My friend Sherilin made them last night. This is how hers look:

I swiped that from her facebook page. Her finished product looks like something that Martha Stewart shaped with her own two hands. Which ones would you rather try? Apparently the secret is parafin wax. We're going to give it another shot, as we have already inhaled all four dozen of them.

We have been struck by a blizzard:

So I put Kylie to work:

Then, I felt guilty that she wasn't even wearing gloves for that task. So, I bought her the cutest hat at Claire's:

Go and buy this candle:

It's the Mint Chocolate scent from Bath & Body Works. It smells so good that I want to eat it, only I read recently that the smell of peppermint suppresses your appetite, so I'm safe.

Btw...the company that fired me two weeks before Christmas last year is going out of business next month. I took a great amount of delight in that fact, and I also counted my blessings (again) for being shown the door before it all went south.

Oh, and Kylie and I saw a rainbow. We could actually view the entire thing, but I could only photograph half of it, which required stopping my car in rush hour traffic. It was worth the road rage that I caused in at least two other drivers to capture this:

And Wendy's now serves fries with sea salt.

I feel incredibly lucky right now.

Comfort Zone

2010-12-12T22:03:00.003-05:00

My semi-date with Rick tonight was really nice. I say "semi" because our three kids were there, plus we were all hanging out at his house as opposed to going anywhere. They just got home from camping this afternoon, and he had spent Friday night in an airport in Alabama trying to get a flight home from a conference (there's a story there, too). Needless to say, they were all pretty pooped, so we were all game for a quiet night at home.

Like I mentioned before, Rick and I went out briefly earlier this year. I met him on PoF, and he looks just like Tom Cruise. I'm talking spectacular good looks. Our first date was at a Panera Bread where we had coffee and talked for almost three hours before I had to race off to get Kylie. After that, I went to his house a few times and met his kids. The first night I was ever there, we stayed up so late talking that we fell asleep together on his couch. The cool thing was that he didn't even attempt to make a move. I was the one who was more likely to do such a thing. I mean, he looks like Tom Cruise. Would you expect anything more from me?

We kind of fell out of contact for whatever reason. Rick seemed to be a little bit distant to me, which I read as indifference, but I'm not really sure that I was correct. At one point back then, he expressed surprise that I thought that way, but I can't really help what I felt. Anyhow, we got back into touch a month or so ago, and it strikes me as funny that it was almost as though no time had passed. He texted me from the airport Friday night as I was getting home from work and told me that his flight had been delayed by about three hours for some reason unknown to him. As we were going back and forth, he mentioned something about how it would be pretty crazy if I were waiting at his house when he got in at midnight. He even offered to tell me where his spare key was hidden. He was completely surprised when I told him that I would do it. I'm not exactly known for my spontaneity. Then his flight was canceled altogether, which put a damper right in the middle of that plan, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Kylie and I were at his house for about four hours tonight. It was almost the perfect amount of time, as she has never met his kids. His daughter is only a few months older than Kylie, and his son is four. Surprisingly, Kylie and Gavin ran off to play together, while his daughter, Ari, hung out with he and I in the kitchen as we caught up. She has always been stuck to me like a magnet, and I wonder if it isn't because she wants to know what's going on between her dad and I. Kids are pretty smart. Kylie could care less. She was off playing with Polly Pockets and not even thinking about me. We had dinner, played a little Wii, and I introduced him to the awesomeness of failblog.org. I like him because he doesn't smother me, but he still makes me feel like he's glad I'm there. He would pass behind me and touch my arm or my back, and it would make me smile. When I got there and again when I left, he gave me the biggest, longest hug that I've ever had. One of those hugs that was so extended that if it were someone that I didn't really like, it would have been awkward and weird. It was nice.

The best part of the night was when we were leaving (not because we were leaving), but because when he opened the front door, we realized that it was snowing. Christmas lights were blinking on his neighbors' lawns, and it was dark, and there were these tiny little snowflakes flying around. It was totally cool, and made for the perfect ending to the night.

This kind of ending is pretty refreshing.

Date-less

2010-12-11T10:46:00.003-05:00

There are some things in the works, people. My facebook status this morning said, "When God closes a door, He opens a window. What a great God!" That's one of my favorite quotes. I got an email a few weeks ago from a guy, Rick (not the same Rick who had the dog), that I went out with at the beginning of the year. Not really sure why we fell out of touch because (for whatever reason) I didn't really blog about it. After emailing back and forth, we made plans to get together this Thursday. Then, out of the blue, he emailed me a couple of nights ago and said that he wanted to get together sooner. Kylie and I are heading over to his house tomorrow night to hang out with him and his kids. Kylie and his daughter are almost the same age; I met his son and daughter when we went out, but Kylie was never there. I'm pretty stoked about tomorrow.

Mind you, I have not been having any luck with the online dating thing. Here are two perfect examples of the responses I am getting. Please note that I simply copied and pasted these. I could not possibly make these things up.

Example #1 (from MrNice_Man8978)
"am a nice guy and funny and i have a sinse of hummer and i am a metal head and has tatoos and pirsing and weres a moehawk i like to go to live shows and hang out with my friends and i like to shop and have a good time and i like scary movies and and going to the movies i like video games and some of my fav band are slipknot and murderdolls stone soure and some other am 32 yr old and i got a little swagg and i like hanging out with that specal girl wen i got one right now i dont have one and would like to meet her some day but am a big taddy bear"

Example #2 (from Cyber1000RR)
"What's Up? I Saw Your Profile And Had 2 Stop And Say Hello! I Just Moved Here From Austin Texas! I Would Love 2 Talk With You! Hit Me Back!"

I'm not sure which is worse: the complete lack of spelling and punctuation or the use of numbers in place of a word that only consists of two (2) letters. I'm going to cross my fingers on this Rick thing. I would appreciate it if you would do the same.

Grace Under Fire

2010-12-07T18:03:00.004-05:00

“Did I waste my time in these years? Have I thrown this part of my life away, in a sense? And I decided that I didn't, that maybe I didn’t get the same things out of it I expected to, or that I thought I was at the time. But when I look back, there's really lots of blessings that I've had. I've had the opportunity to have these great children. I've had wonderful friends. I've had experiences that really couldn't be replaced, and opportunities to talk about things that mattered to me.” -Elizabeth Edwards

I don't have time to blog today, as I am frantically trying to finish a Power Point presentation that is due tomorrow. But I just heard about Elizabeth Edwards' passing, and I had this quote from her saved in my archives. She inspired me to be graceful when life threw unexpected curveballs. I planned to use it some day on some blog when the need seemed fit. Today, it seems fit.

Snow!

2010-12-05T00:24:00.003-05:00

Today, it snowed in NC, a pretty rare occasion that causes everyone who is a native of the area to stare in amazement at this white stuff that falls from the heavens. Seriously, we were all standing on the sidewalk at the mall attempting to video and photograph it with our cell phones. It was comical and sad, all at the same time.

Rat Bastard picked Kylie up at my store and sent me this picture a few hours later. I'm not sure which amazed me more...the amount of snow that had actually accumulated on the ground, or the fact that he managed to equip her with a hat, gloves, and a scarf before sending her out to play in it. Both are pretty impressive.

Thomas is my Wingman

2010-12-01T17:25:00.006-05:00

Today, my friend Mike sent me a text message while I was at work. It said:

"I double dog dare you to fire the next employee you see. It'll make you feel better. Don't even give her a reason why. Just say 'Hey. How long you worked here?' When she answers, say 'I think that's long enough. Now gather your things and get the fuck out. I'll have Thomas walk you out.' It's even funnier if there's not even anyone named Thomas there."

I am still laughing.

Mike, who has been my friend since college, lives at the beach in Wilmington, NC and is trying to get me to come out for a visit. Or permanently. Truth is, I'm not completely opposed to the idea. Yesterday, I tweaked my resume and wrote the most amazing cover letter of my life. I want to hire myself. This is not meant to imply that I am unhappy with my current position; in fact, I am incredibly content with it. I am just tired of the commute, and I have absolutely no desire to move to the city where I work.

I'm pretty much open to anything at this point. I've threatened to move into my brother's basement if I find a job in Asheville. I would even take a pay cut to get there. Right now, I would not be opposed to packing up and moving anywhere. As long as I don't have an hour drive each way to work, I could work out the kinks as far as taking care of Kylie.

I think I have always been somewhat of a nomad. I get restless and have a difficult time staying in one place. I've reigned it in since Kylie was born because I wanted her to have stability. But it's time for me to find my place. I'd kind of like to move out of the state, but I'm not sure if I'm legally allowed to where Kylie is concerned. I'm not really sure where I would like to go, but it would be nice to have options. My dad told me a few weeks ago that he has always wanted to move back to Michigan, but he never did because he couldn't leave his wingman.

Any guesses on who his wingman is? Here's a hint...it isn't Thomas.

'Tis the Season

2010-11-29T20:32:00.006-05:00

Yesterday, I took the day off and spent it in hiding. Well, hiding from work. I love my store, but I left them a note that asked them to leave me alone for the day. Just one day with no texts, no phone calls, no "emergencies" that could really wait until Monday morning. And I got it. For that, I am grateful.

Kylie and I spent the day together running errands and hanging out. I miss hanging out with her. Life gets in the way sometimes, and I feel like I miss a lot.

Our mission was to pick out a Christmas tree and get ourselves into the holiday spirit. We pride ourselves in doing this all by ourselves. Okay, so I don't actually cut the tree down or tie it to the car, but we choose the perfect tree and then point out our car in the parking lot to the nice man that does all of that for us.

What I failed to photograph was the two of us attempting to wrestle that bad boy into our living room and set it up in the tree stand. I'm sure it was quite a view.

After we recreated our living room to look like it threw up Christmas, we went to see Tangled. It was absolutely fantastic. I cried at the end. I always cry at the end of those damn Disney flicks. A few minutes in, someone's child started screaming and crying on the other side of the theater. Kylie looked at me in exasperation and whispered, "Who brings their kids to these things?!" I almost lost it. She is such a mini-version of myself. It's a little scary.

dreaming

2010-11-28T01:07:00.002-05:00

I am dreaming of a trip. A trip far, far away from anything that is happening in my life at the moment. Preferably one that requires air travel, even if the entire process of flying is a total pain in the ass. Being in an airport makes travel seem more exotic, even if I'm not going anywhere all that unusual. I want to take a trip to a place that I've never been, and wander streets that I've never heard of, streets that probably don't have anything all that different from the streets that I have at home. Except that they're not my streets, and I can pretend that I'm a tourist, or I could just blend in. I want to be able to forget about working retail during the holidays, and about how overwhelmed I feel with everything surrounding my existance. I want to not think about phone calls that go unanswered, and messages that are unreturned, and instead imagine all of the great scrapbook pages I could make from my vacation photos. These days, I don't have time and energy to scrapbook. My creativity has left the building. It used to be my outlet. Anymore, I don't really have an outlet. I want to be able to sit at a coffee shop in Chicago, or by a resort's pool in Florida, and to be able to read all 477 pages of President Bush's memoir without feeling guilty that I should be reading for my lit class instead. I want to not worry about where Kylie is, or if she misses me because she isn't with me. I don't want to think about how Rat Bastard blew her off on Thanksgiving because he is a true bastard. I don't want to agonize over how I'm going to get her really excited about meeting her new therapist in January, because I know she won't be excited. I feel a little as though I have betrayed her for whatever reason, although my sincerest desire is to help her. If I were on a jetplane at this exact second, I wouldn't be worrying about that.

I just want to throw a bunch of crap in a bag and go. Can you tell I'm ready for a break?

Thankful Pie

2010-11-25T00:33:00.003-05:00

It's officially Thanksgiving again. In about seven hours, I will be donning my apron and the recipes that I printed offline last night, and I will single-handedly destroy my kitchen. Every year, I like Thanksgiving a little bit more. It has never really been my favorite holiday. I know that probably sounds terrible, especially considering that it's Thanksgiving and all, but I'm just being honest here. I've never really been a big holiday person for whatever reason.

This year, the fam is coming to my house, and I am pretty damn stoked. Because of my crazy ass work schedule for this week (with Black Friday and everything), it was not in the cards for me to go anywhere that required more than a thirty minute drive. I just wasn't into it. So, of course, my family realized that it simply wouldn't be Thanksgiving without ME, and therefore made the collective decision that they will come here. This will be the second vegan Thanksgiving that we have had all together, and this one will be extra special because it is the first Thanksgiving that my parents have had together in over twenty years. In a way, this makes things easy for me. There is always that guilt over which parent to celebrate holidays with, and making sure that I get equal time with each one, and it sucks. Now, I have to worry about sharing Kylie with Rat Bastard, so it's almost like I'm being divided into three. He and I pretty much determined this year that she would be with me since my family is coming, but I agreed to let him have her on Christmas Eve. I have had her for the past couple of Christmas Eves, so it's only fair. (I say that now, but when I'm sitting here alone on December 24th, crying into my eggnog, I want one of you to come and bitch slap me.)

I know that I have mentioned this before, but Rat Bastard and I separated on Thanksgiving Day three years ago, so it causes me to have mixed feelings about the day in general. In one sense, it was the day that my life kind of fell apart, but in another sense, it was the day that I got my life back. I had made a pumpkin pie to take to my brother's for Thanksgiving dinner, the first one that I had ever thrown together. After it all went down, I sat in my living room and ate that damn pie right out of the pie plate. It tasted like divorce, and it was delicious. The ironic thing is that when I was a kid, I hated pumpkin pie. Now, I love it.

Oh, and my friend Ashley is coming to have dinner with me. I'm really excited. She works with me, and when I invited her, I didn't really think she would actually take me up on it. I can't wait for her to get here. She is going to fit in so well with my family that I think I may just adopt her. When I told my dad that we were having a guest for dinner, the first thing that popped out of his mouth was, "Really? How old is she?" Gross.

I'll try to post pictures of the vegan food. It's really fabulous. I hope I have lots of leftovers.

Dear Diary

2010-11-18T06:38:00.006-05:00

Last night, when I came home from work, I found the following two pieces of paper mixed in with Kylie's school papers. I felt a little guilty for looking at them, but not guilty enough to prevent myself from posting them on my blog. I remember writing things like this when I was little; I've always been a diary-keeper. Even now, I tend to do most of the pouring out of my heart on here; however, I keep a real paper journal for more of the private stuff. The first of Kylie's diary entries broke my heart, but then the last line made me giggle.

Then there was this one...

Kylie announced to me a couple of days ago that she had learned to tie her shoes. I, of course, did not believe her, as I have witnessed the poor child attempting to do so. We hadn't had much luck in our shoe-tying practice sessions, so I had determined that it was something I would put off in teaching her until she was in middle school or so. But I'll be damned if she didn't figure it out. When she proudly showed me her success, she said, "I got tired of waiting for you to show me how to do it, Mommy, so I taught myself." Hmmmmm....note to self: don't procrastinate on teaching her other important life lessons, including (but not limited to) no sex until you're 30 and don't marry anyone that your mother hates.

FYI, Miss Alissa (who is mentioned at the bottom of this diary entry) is the counselor that she has been having a hard time with at the YMCA. Yesterday seemed to go much better, and she decided that she wanted to stay in the group that she was already in rather than moving up to the older group. She was worried that she wouldn't know anyone in the other group. I called my insurance company yesterday and asked for some referrals for child therapists that I could take her to. I also found out that Kylie gets unlimited visits as long as I pay the copay. My former insurance company limited our visits to 20 per year, which I managed to blow through in a matter of a couple of months when I was seeing my shrink.

On a completely unrelated topic, I am considering joining another dating website. I have been using Plenty of Fish since March or April of this year, and I'm simply running out of options. I keep hiding and then un-hiding my profile because I get frustrated with it. At this point, I am getting emails from the same guys that have messaged me before that I had no interest in. I believe that there are plenty of fish out there, but I don't think they're on the same site that I am. Kylie asked me the other day if I was ever planning on having another baby, and I told her that it wouldn't be until I got married again. Her response was, "Well, that's probably never gonna happen!" She knows just how to boost my self-esteem, huh?

Never Grow Up

2010-11-16T23:13:00.008-05:00

"To you, everything is funny; you've got nothing to regret. I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that....I won't let nobody hurt you; won't let no one break your heart. And no one will desert you. Just try to never grow up." -Taylor Swift, Never Grow Up

It is 11:15 pm, and I have a 15 hour workday to look forward to tomorrow, but I can't sleep. This morning I was driving to work, and I was in a pretty happy mood. In fact, I was planning to write a completely different sort of blog, one that I scribbled notes for on the back of a power bill. But my day took a completely different turn late in the afternoon when I received a phone call at work from the director of the children's program at the YMCA where Kylie attends the afterschool program. I knew that if she was calling me at work that there was a problem.

There was definitely a problem.

My darling daughter was having a meltdown, culminating in hitting one of her counselors. This was not the first incident at the Y, but this one has resulted in a one-day suspension from the afterschool program. Last week, there was a similar situation involving the same counselor. I was just as shocked then as I was today. My child is not one who acts out aggressively. She does not hit other children or adults. She is the model of good behavior at school. Two weeks ago, I met with her second grade teacher for our mandatory nine-weeks parent/teacher conference. She said Kylie was doing well, and no problems were noted. But at the YMCA, suddenly there are issues. I spent at least fifteen minutes on the phone with the director, a person who I have known for the past three years, tossing around ideas to determine why my child has suddenly become enraged at a place that she has always felt content.

I thought hard for the rest of the day about possibilities. Am I spending enough time with her? I am pulled in a zillion directions every day between work and school and mommyhood. I try so hard not to let one of the balls drop, but sometimes my juggling sucks. My goal was that I not drop the ball on my child. But maybe that isn't it. Maybe it's the usual "child of divorce going through a rough spot" scenario. I know firsthand how difficult that can be. I spent years going through rough spots, and I would give anything to figure out a way for Kylie to avoid them. Chuck is a Rat Bastard, and he has a new family, and he lives it without Kylie. He promised her a few weeks ago that he would call her everyday because she told him that she really missed him. It lasted for approximately three days. I'm not sure which breaks my heart more...seeing her sad that she doesn't see him often enough or watching her indifference when he finally calls and she has no desire to speak to him. Perhaps this current outburst has nothing to do with myself or RB at all. Maybe it's something simpler. Toward the beginning of October, Kylie was moved from the group of older elementary kids to a group consisting of kindergarteners, first graders, and a couple of second graders. I think there were some new additions to the program, and because Kylie is borderline with the age that separates the groups, she was the one to move. Maybe this hasn't suited her well. This actually makes more sense to me.

When I was driving to pick her up this afternoon, I was trying to think of the right words to say to her. She knew that the director had called me. I knew that she was worried that I was going to be angry with her. I did not want to sound angry. I knew that she had had a bad day, and I wanted to make her feel safe, to let her know that she could open up to me. I wanted her to know that she could tell me anything, and that I would still love her anyway. After she got into the car, and we started to drive away, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Mommy." It was pitiful. I asked her to tell me what was wrong, why she was unhappy, so that I could fix it. And her sweet little voice piped up from the backseat and said, "Sometimes, you can't fix everything, Mommy." Oh God, why didn't someone just rip out my heart and fling it in front of my moving vehicle? Somehow, I think running over it would have hurt less than hearing that.

This morning as we walked out to wait for the school bus, we passed a beetle on the sidewalk that was flipped over on his back. Its legs were flailing around in the air as he tried to turn himself over. Kylie thought for a moment before grabbing a leaf and helping it out, and as the bug regained its balance and stumbled away, she said, "See? Doesn't he look happy now?" And I relished at how sweet and wonderful my daughter was. Now, I'm trying to figure out how to do the same for her, to get her back on her feet. Tomorrow, she will be moved back to her old group at the YMCA in an attempt to restore peace, and I will start calling around for a referral to see a child psychologist. I have to prevent her from being any more damaged than she probably already is.

On that note, I'm going to try to salvage what little chance I have of sleeping tonight. I promise to post something happier later...

Namesakes

2010-11-08T21:16:00.003-05:00

"I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed." -Booker T. Washington, Up From Slavery

I came across this quote this morning while waiting for a doctor's appointment. Part of my American Lit assignment this week is to read the first two chapters of Washington's autobiography, and I simply could not put it down. In fact, over Christmas break, when I actually have time to read something that isn't in textbook form, I am going to read the entire thing. I no longer have time to read for pleasure, but I thoroughly enjoyed this assignment. Who hasn't felt like they aren't where they need to be in their lives at a given time? In less than two months, I will be 30, and instead of thinking, "This isn't where I imagined myself," I will instead remind myself that I have accomplished a hell of a lot for a girl who has dealt with more than her share of storms.

As usual, there has been a lot going in the world of Carrie lately, and I haven't had any time to write. It bums me out. If I could just figure out a way to talk and have blogger transcribe everything for me in blog-form, complete with necessary italics and exclamation points, I would be all set. Plus, I've been extremely drained and exhausted. I'm not usually like this, and anymore, it's all I can do to drag myself through the afternoon. I took today off to have a CT scan of my behind (yay...nothing's broken!), and hopefully I can put that entire fiasco behind me (no pun intended). Afterward, I came home and passed the heck out on my sofa. Sleeping for twelve hours a day would be cake for me right now. It's kind of annoying.

While I was in one of the waiting rooms at the doctor's office, there was an elderly lady sitting in a curtained room to my right. She was joking around with one of the nurses about having to drink so much water before her CT scan, and finally she announced that she had to go pee, regardless of what anyone said. When she made her way past me with her cane, I was completely surprised and in awe that she resembled the friend and neighbor that my mom named me after, Carrie Anna Hillman. Her spunk was apparent, and I could hear her singing in the bathroom to my left. It made me a little teary, and then I smiled, because I believe wholeheartedly that people we love can appear to us in many forms when we least expect it. Today was my day.

So here's to spunk, and to success, and to finding our way on the path to one of them with the help of the other.

They Grow Up So Fast

2010-11-03T19:19:00.005-04:00

It's book fair week. Remember those? I used to live for the book fair every year. Getting new books was the absolute highlight of my life. My daughter clearly emulates me in this sense. She rushes home with Scholastic book orders each month, item after item circled. I do my best to remember to return them on time. I'm not very good at it.

In an attempt to encourage parents to come to the book fair and shop with their kids, Kylie's school invites parents to have lunch with the class on a day of their choice with the expectation that we will visit the book fair afterward. Today was my day. I knew it would be an adventure. Kylie's class does not disappoint.

In the cafeteria, I sat between Kylie and another girl, Megan. Across from me at the table was Jeffrey. Jeffrey informed me that he has all sorts of girlfriends, some as far away as West Virginia. He also told me that he didn't ask any of these girls to be his girlfriend; they all came to him. He held up his empty cardboard milk carton and said, "This is why all of the girls like me." And he proceeded to crush it with one hand. Wow. Imagine my (lack of) surprise when Kylie told me a few minutes later that Jeffrey was, at one time, her boyfriend.

I attempted to change the subject by asking the kids what they dressed up as for Halloween. There was a pirate, a werewolf, and an angel. Then there was Hannah. Hannah whispered to Kylie what her costume was, and Kylie leaned over to whisper it to me. Hannah was a sexy dancer. Omigosh.

The absolute highlight of visiting the school was finding the spot in the hallway where Kylie's class' artwork was displayed. Each student had to draw a picture of him/herself and write about why they were the same as everyone else and what made them different. I laughed out loud when I read Kylie's journaling.

Can you read that? Here is a close up:

Kylie has a rockin' tan. No wonder Jeffrey is smitten with her.

Get in the "Spirit" of Things...

2010-11-02T09:00:00.009-04:00

Halloween is over....so sad. I think I was more excited about dressing up than Kylie this year. She picked a lovely gothic witch costume, and I chose to be a slutty ladybug. I was pretty much okay with any costume as long as I could whore it up and wear fishnets. Our neighborhood isn't very neighborhood-y (meaning there really isn't one), so I scoped out a nice subdivision for us to raid instead. We waited until the last minute to go trick-or-treating, so the pictures are kind of dark, but we looked great in person, and that's all that really matters. I got hit on by a 14 year old boy on a skateboard who said, "What are you, like, a butterfly?"

Kylie refused to carry the broom, and the witch hat came off before we got out of the car, but I let her wear eyeliner and purple eyeshadow, so nothing else was important.

We were absolutely adorable. I was pretty excited about my prostitute-like makeup.

I realized halfway through the night that my wings were upside-down. Oops. Oh, and those things on my arms are actually legwarmers. But I bought them at a store that caters to scrawny girls, so they were no match for my massive calves.

Okay, so the dog has some demon eyes. Quite fitting for the occasion.

I'm kinda sad that I only got to wear the red lipstick and the fishnets for one night. I think I'm going to have to work those into my wardrobe some other way...

On Boys and Marriage

2010-10-30T08:33:00.004-04:00

My daughter is at the age where she is starting to notice boys. Does this normally happen when girls are seven? Not that it's really anything new; she had her first "boyfriend" in kindergarten, and I could not have been more proud that it was the cutest boy in her class, Dillon. If I were five, I would have had a crush on him, too, even though his mom was wicked and was rude to all of the other moms in the car pool line in the afternoon. But that's another story.

A couple of days ago, Kylie came home and announced to me that she was going to be calling a boy that evening, as he had given her his phone number. Oh dear, here is where it starts. Perhaps I should consider upping the minutes on my cell phone plan, as we do not have a home line. A few hours later, she decided that the time was right and a phone call was to be made. But alas, she had misplaced the paper that the number was scribbled on. She desperately searched for it to no avail. Increasingly frustrated, she looked at me and cried, "Mommy, what am I going to do?! He's probably sitting there waiting for me to call!" Well, of course he is, dear. That was the moment that I knew she is going to undoubtedly have boys wrapped around her little fingers forever.

The next night, she announced to me as she was getting ready for bed that she already knew exactly who she was going to marry. I smiled and asked her who he was and how she knew that he was the one. She replied, "It's Caleb G. I'm picking him because he's the cutest boy in the whole YMCA." That's all that really matters, right? I have taught her well.

Yesterday morning, as I was frantically packing her lunch before racing out the door, Kylie was finishing up her beauty routine in the bathroom. (This consists of putting in a headband in lieu of actually brushing one's hair...) Scooby Doo was blasting in the living room, but things were otherwise quiet. She marched into the kitchen and said, "Mommy, I have to ask you something." She took my hand in hers and seriously asked, "Are you EVER going to get married?" I guess that I should have followed her example and picked my future husband when I was seven.

On another note, I downloaded the new Taylor Swift album, Speak Now, yesterday. I listened to it for 14 hours yesterday. It's playing on my computer now. I can't get enough of it. Apparently, many of my friends feel the same way. Taylor Swift lyrics were popping up all over the place as FaceBook statuses yesterday. If you haven't already purchased it, do it. Right now. I recommend "Enchanted;" It gives me hope. :)

Let's Play Dress Up

2010-10-28T20:08:00.005-04:00

Halloween preparations are in full swing at my house. Kylie and I each got our costumes today. I decided to be a slutty ladybug. The skirt that I'm wearing (and my butt cheeks) will be at the mercy of the wind, as it is shorter than anything that I have ever bared (literally) in public before. The costume came with red and black polka dot legwarmers, but apparently they were not made for people with fat calves. I put them on and briefly wondered if I can lose weight in my calves. In three days. My only wish for my costume was that I could wear fishnets with it. I have never worn fishnets in my life. It's good to set goals for oneself.

Kylie picked a gothic witch costume, and I promised her that she could wear my purple eyeshadow, glitter eyeliner, and mascara. Do you know how hard it is to put eyeliner on a little person with wiggly eyelids? I just know I'm going to poke her eye out. I have no idea where we are going to go trick-or-treating. I think we are going to drive around until we find a nice enough neighborhood with porch lights and start there. But then there is the question of whether people are trick-or-treating on Saturday or Sunday. I can't figure it out. If all else fails, we will just go march up and down the sidewalk in our costumes and hope that people will beep and wave at us for entertainment. It's the one night of the year that I can dress like a hooker and not worry that some creepy guy will try to take me home.

Now, if you'll excuse me, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is on. I can't miss it.

Smell the Saltwater...

2010-10-27T22:39:00.011-04:00

The Kodak gods were on my side when Kylie and I went to the beach. Usually, it is impossible to get my camera to stay on for more than one minute to take a decent shot. The batteries peter out as quickly as I can put them in. It's so frustrating. This weekend, however, was the exception. I followed Kylie around, snapping pictures when she wasn't looking and begging her to smile when she was glancing at me. My persistence paid off. My pictures were amazing. These are my faves:

And...at Sherilin's request...

P.S. The dates on the photos are totally wrong. I forgot to adjust it beforehand. My bad.

Circles

2010-10-26T09:29:00.001-04:00

At this moment, I am sitting in the waiting room of my doctor's office, patiently awaiting an ass x-ray. I'm beyond thrilled. Actually, at this exact moment, I am waiting for a test to ensure that I am not "with child" that apparently must be performed before the x-ray. I made every attempt to explain to these healthcare professionals that in order to find oneself in such a condition, a girl must have gotten lucky at some point, but they weren't having any of that. I'm not sure where they earned their degrees, because they don't believe me. So here I am, carefully balancing on one side of my ass cheek, as sitting on the middle like a normal person proves to be impossible. I have been driving around with a pillow in my seat for over a week. I would tie it to my waist in order to use it at work if I could. It would be beneficial to be able to park it up against the wall at work occasionally. This mess hurts.

I've been running in circles since Kylie and I returned from the beach. I went directly from the sand to work, not even stopping at home on the way by. The entire drive home, I thought about how sad I was that I had to go back to reality, back to trying to find my happy. It's elusive, that happiness. Just when I think I might have a grasp on it, it eludes me again. I get a taste, and then it's over.

Work has been insane, and I'll leave it at that since I can't write about it (and we all know why!). My second course started last week for school, and I have just felt overwhelmed. I carry textbooks everywhere. I am reading them at stoplights, in the food court at the mall, standing in line to pay my $15 copay here. I haven't had time to blog. I have lots of funny things to write about. I just don't have time. I would still be reading that textbook now, but I forgot to write down my next assignment before I came here.

I'll put up some beach pictures later when I'm not typing on my BlackBerry. I learned that if you follow a kid around with a camera long enough, you will get some amazing shots. I regret that I haven't done more of that. Usually, it is a challenge to keep the batteries in my camera charged long enough to turn it on, and I feel that this is somehow my fault, so I feel guilty.

Sigh. I digress.

Honesty and a Sore Rump

2010-10-16T22:06:00.001-04:00

Kylie and I are at the beach. Dear Lord, I love the beach. When I was a kid, I hated it, mostly because the water got me wet and the sand got me dirty. I guess I've always been prissy. We drove for five hours to get here, stretching out a trip that should have only taken three and a half. Those pee breaks were partly to blame, but I kept randomly swinging into gas stations to get out of the car and make sure I could still move. I drove the entire way there with a purple butterfly pillow (courtesy of Kylie) cushioning my sore derriere. Right now, it's 10 PM, and I'm parked on a chaise lounge by the kiddie pool, freezing my ass off. Apparently, I decided that the 50 degree temperatures that overtake the beach at night in October did not apply to me. But I'm trying to appear as though I'm too cool to care about how cold I am, as though I am clearly above such things. Meanwhile, my nose is running.

This three days away comes with its price. I guarantee that I am the only person at this resort who is carrying around a textbook. As much as I would like to brag and say that I managed to get caught up in my class in time to not worry about homework while I'm here, the truth is that I'm not that balanced. My second class starts on Monday. I haven't bought the book yet, and it looks as though I won't have time to get to the bookstore before Wednesday. I think that next semester, I should try to cram a little more onto my plate. I'm simply not busy enough.

While we were on our way here, Kylie and I were jamming to the Taylor Swift "Fearless" album (deluxe edition, mind you, because the regular one is for losers). I pretty much hit the "repeat" button for track #16, but at one point, we found ourselves listening to the song titled "The Best Day." As it began, I explained to Kylie that it was a song that Taylor Swift had written for her mom to tell her how much she loved her. I went on to tell her that it was special to me since I love her (Kylie) so much. At the end of the song, there is a lyric that says, "...daddy's smart and you're the prettiest lady in the whole wide world." When Kylie heard it, she said, "Oh mommy, that part about her mommy being the prettiest lady is just not true!" And I braced myself for it, the bonding moment that was sure to come, the second that we would have the connection like Taylor Swift and her mom. Then she continued. "Her mommy isn't the prettiest lady, mommy! It's ME!". Oh, that is so not where I expected her to go with that. At least she's honest. I have taught her to take pride in her great genes, and I have clearly succeeded.

Good Riddance

2010-10-16T01:07:00.004-04:00

Here's my thought for the day....

Sometimes, people who we didn't realize were such drains to our success and happiness find a way to extricate themselves from our lives, and we didn't realize how anxious we were to see them go until they were gone.

Funny how life works that way, isn't it?

Off to the beach in the AM. I have never been so excited about a few days away as I am right now. Although, I managed to fling myself (completely ungracefully) from a really tall ladder at work today, so I'm going to be rockin' that bikini with a nicely bruised ass. But, I am looking at it as a great conversation starter.

Is it Too Late for Random Tuesday?

2010-10-13T19:20:00.009-04:00

Right now, I should be studying. Instead, I am procrastinating. I have been procrastinating all week, and I have found that I am quite good at it. It's so nice to be good at something!

It is Wednesday, otherwise known as halfway through the week, and I have not even begun to work on my humanities assignments for the week. It's because it seems like a LOT to do in a week, so I'm solving the problem by waiting until the last possible minute to begin. And Kylie and I are leaving for Myrtle Beach on Saturday morning, so I may be reading Beowulf from the sand. Good thing our resort has free wi-fi. I am so excited about our weekend away. The last time we went to the beach, it rained and was freezing. This time will probably be the same, but I don't care. I need a few days away, BlackBerry off. Okay, that last part won't really happen, but I certainly don't have to answer it when it rings.

Kylie and I are playing hooky on Monday and going to Ripley's Aquarium. I'm going to tell her teacher that she was sick, which she may actually believe considering Kylie really has been sniffly over the past couple of days. She and I stopped at the drugstore on our way home this evening to pick up some more of her children's cough medicine. While she surveyed the Halloween costumes, I snagged every other essential item that we did not go in there for. Cosmo magazine, a package of Twizzlers (strawberry, not cherry), and a box of red hair coloring (auburn, not orange). At some point, after I have helped myself to a Midori Sour and learned about how to know if my man is STD free, I will do homework. I have been debating about going the cheap way out and coloring my hair myself, which doesn't seem as frightening as it did when I was a brunette attempting to go blond. I paid a crapload of money to have my hair professionally colored at the salon a couple of months ago, and all of the red started to wash out after a couple of weeks. Granted, I have been bleaching my hair for as many years as I have been driving, so there is really nothing left for color to grasp onto, but I can do touch ups at home for 1/20 of the price that I paid at the salon. I felt like such a vixen with the red. I want that back.

Yesterday, I had a lunch date with a guy. Don't get too excited. I'm really not. This isn't some random guy that I met online. I actually know this guy from the mall where I work, and he sent me a message on facebook two nights ago asking me to meet him for lunch or dinner on Tuesday. I figured that I had nothing to lose, so I met him at a new restaurant a couple of miles from my store. At first, it seemed to be going okay. Knowing him beforehand made it much less awkward, although it really didn't have the feel of a date, and for that I am grateful. We talked about the generic stuff: kids, ex-spouses, work. Then I asked him about his dog, which I knew about from facebook. He has pictures of his dog ALL OVER facebook, which I suppose could be somewhat endearing. This isn't a big, manly dog. No sir. This is a 12 pound, long haired, carry-in-a-purse kind of pooch. I asked him what his dog's name was, and he replied, "Chewbacca." Not being up on my Star Wars facts, I asked if Chewbacca was a boy or a girl. He said, "Oh, he's ALL man. If you stand behind him, all you see are his huge balls. [At this point, he demonstrated their massive size with his hands.] He's hung like his daddy!" Oh God. Too much information. And then, as if the dog thing wasn't enough, he was rude to our server for absolutely no reason. I was embarrassed to be there. I hate when people get cocky. I was pretty much done after that. I couldn't wait to go to work after that just to escape to normalcy.

With that, I'm going to mix myself some green, fruity, and liquor-y and read some Irish mythology. Or maybe I'll color my hair first.

The Deep End

2010-10-09T23:39:00.006-04:00

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly." -Proverb

I bought that quote on a magnet at Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago. I stuck it on the refrigerator and promptly forgot about it. I even tried to put it in a spot where I would be sure to see it, eye-level and everything. It caught my eye tonight as I was staring aimlessly into my refrigerator after getting home from work. It's supposed to make me feel better when things are going badly. Tonight, I read the quote and wondered if the caterpillar felt like he was suffocating.

I feel like I'm suffocating.

I have blogged about this a lot lately, this feeling like I'm going under without my life vest. Some days, I get up, and I think that I'm ready to take on the world. Other days, my alarm goes off, and I think, "Really? Again?" It's me against the world, and lately, I'm losing. World-1, Carrie-0. I'm kind of at a loss anymore. My life is overwhelming, and I can't breathe.

Maybe I'm just at that point where I am getting ready to turn 30, and I am panicking. This is not where I envisioned myself fifteen years ago. But honestly, I really don't think that's the problem. Everyone says that life gets better after 30. I'm waiting. Something's got to give here.

Yesterday, I got caught in nasty traffic on the way home from work for the second time this week. I was 20 minutes late getting Kylie from the YMCA on Wednesday, 40 minutes yesterday. All because of the interstate. I had a complete meltdown in the car. This was after a horrible day (week) at work. I cried my way though a pack of kleenex. Wait, who am I kidding? I used my sleeve. Only civilized people use tissue. If you're going to have a breakdown at 5:30 in the afternoon, you need to go all the way. By the time I showed up to pick up Kylie, my eyes were red and puffy and my hair was matted to my face. Her afterschool counselor looked a little afraid of me. I had that crazed look about me. It matched the way I felt.

I'm being pulled in fifty different directions, and I'm doing it alone. And while this isn't a big whine session about being a single mom, it's all relative. Sometimes, I wish I had a little bit of backup. I wish that I could plan to go out without having to make arrangements a month in advance. There is no spontaneity in my life. Who am I kidding, though? I don't have people to go out with. I live a billion miles from anyone that I know. I don't particularly think that anyone really gets me anyway. I'm on an island of Carrie, and it's surrounded by sharks. I have so much on my plate, and I'm stressed out of my mind. I can't juggle it all, but dropping anything is not an option.

I have also decided that the male population is intimidated by me. I think that unless I pretend to be some helpless girl who can't make her way in the world on her own, I'm going to be single forever. Aren't there any guys out there with some balls? I have noticed a pattern in the guys that I have met online. Every single one of them claim that their ex cheated on them. My question for them is, "What did you do?" Is it wrong that I'm questioning this? I'm ready to take a step back from this online dating thing. I had a pretty craptastic coffee date last week. It was awkward and weird, and looooooong (45 minutes or so). I was counting down the minutes, and I kept reminding him that he had an appointment that he needed to get to. I'll bet he was considering canceling on his client because he was completely smitten by me. I wasn't feeling it. I felt guilty for not feeling it, but he reminded me of my ex-husband when he was clean shaven. I couldn't get past it. And we had nothing to talk about. He has two little girls and a nanny for crying out loud. What the hell do I have in common with a man who has a nanny? And he whined about being so busy. Shove off, buddy. Spend a day in my shoes. You will come face to face with your worst self pretty quickly. You won't like the person you meet.

I'm not a fan of "me" right now, in case you haven't noticed. I'm struggling here.

Cupcakes....a Photo Diary

2010-10-04T21:37:00.009-04:00

In honor of my dad's 50th birthday this weekend, Kylie and I decided to get creative and make some adorable ice cream cone cupcakes that she found in a recipe book. How cute are these?! (Please note...this image is from google. By no means did something as awesome as this come out of my kitchen.)

We picked out a delicious double chocolate cake mix, vanilla frosting, and colorful sprinkles! Cupcakes are easy...right? I have become really good at baking with Kylie. I used to twitch if something spilled on the counter or if there were shells in the batter. Now, I just don't care. She is doing such a great job with the mixer...

We even added cute blue sugary sprinkles to the batter. Because my dad is a boy. Get it? Take note, once they are stirred in, they become invisible.

Kylie carefully spooned the batter into the cones.

I don't know what those lumps are in the batter, but that's not really important.

We were ready to bake. The recipe said 20 minutes, but after 20 minutes, they were still runny. Five more minutes. Then ten more minutes.

Oh God.

This doesn't look like the picture.

They're hard on the outside and runny on the inside.

Hmmmm....

We were disappointed, but we settled for doing the next best thing.

We googled the picture on the internet, and showed dad the picture of what he was supposed to have. Then we took him out for ice cream.

Happy 50th, Dad!

Rules for Dating

2010-09-30T08:17:00.001-04:00

You know how Taylor Swift always uses her ex boyfriends as material for the songs she writes? She warns them early on that there is a strong possibility that they will find themselves as the subject of her next number one hit. Well, when men find out that I blog, they should heed a similar warning. I date simply so that I will have things to write about in my blog.

So here ya go...Carrie's infinite rules of dating, in no particular order. Take from them what you will. You can thank me later.

(1) Duckface is not attractive. There is NOTHING sexy about you flattening your lips and sticking them out as far from your face as you can. (Feel free to practice this in front of the mirror so you will get an accurate understanding of what I mean.). It makes me not want to kiss you. It's goofy. Stop it.

(2) I don't want to hear about your digestive issues. If dairy makes your tummy tumble, please keep that shit (pardon the pun) to yourself until (at least) date #6. I'm going to find it really hard to get turned on if you begin every phone conversation with, "My stomach is so upset! I've been in the bathroom all night!" That Matthew McConaughey voice that I like so much isn't as sexy when you are referring to poo.

(3) Speaking of the above rule, I don't need you to include your trips to the bathroom in your narrative of things that you did for the day. I get that you do those things. Eventually, I will allow you to believe that I do them, too. But while we are in the "this relationship is bright, shiny, and new" stage, I don't want to think about it.

(4) Don't fart in the front of me. We aren't married. Gross.

(5) Don't flush while I'm on the phone with you (see #2 and #3). And don't get defensive when I tell you that. Are you just trying to gross me out? It's working.

(6) Don't get pissy when I give you an opinion on something that differs from your own, especially when I can back mine up with concrete proof that I'm right. It makes you look petty, and I still know that I'm right. And don't preface every story about a friend or coworker with a description of his or her race. It doesn't matter.

(7) Don't end EVERY sentence of EVERY text message with an exclamation point!!! Everything that you are doing simply not that exciting!!! See??!! Isn't this irritating??!!

As you have probably gathered, it didn't work out so much with the PE teacher. I think I knew going in that it wouldn't. Our conversations were awkward and strained; there was a lot of dead air. And, in his defense, I was constantly comparing him to the last boyfriend. Ending aside, I fell hard for him, and it's going to be hard for anyone else to measure up. It's not fair, but it is what it is.

Sooooo...another one bites the dust. We aren't really surprised though, are we?

Stop the Clock

2010-09-23T18:48:00.006-04:00

"I gotta work out. I keep saying it all the time. I keep saying I gotta start working out. It's been about two months since I've worked out. And I just don't have the time. Which uh..is odd. Because I have the time to go out to dinner. And uh...and watch TV. And get a bone density test. And uh...try to figure out what my phone number spells in words." -Ellen DeGeneres

My juggling act gets bigger and bigger everyday. There simply isn't enough Carrie to go around. I scribble endless to-do lists, and then I promptly lose them. I am constantly going, going, going. I don't have enough time to be give 110% at work, at school, and at home. The next person that says, "Do the best you can!" is gonna get punched in the face. It's not my style to let something slip. Who needs sleep? I have too much to do.

I feel like I'm falling behind on everything. I went for a run Tuesday morning before work. It was the first time I have been able to do it in over two weeks, and I expected to have the worst time ever. Quite the opposite...my time was exemplary for the simple reason that I kept thinking of all of the other things I should have been doing at that exact moment. It took me so long to complete my financial aid packet for school that they sent me another one, probably assuming that they first one had never arrived. I wrote most of this blog two days ago on the back of my doctor's note from missing work Friday. I haven't had time to post it until now.

I'm not loving Kylie's teacher this year. I'm sure that I briefly mentioned this before. To be fair, she would have to be able to part the Red Sea to top Kylie's first grade teacher. I just haven't clicked with this chick. I am the dream mom to have in your classroom. Last year, I tutored the kids in math, had lunch with the class, tagged along on every field trip that I was able to, passed out snow cones on Field Day. I freakin' rocked. This year, I feel like my existence is an inconvenience. Then, Kylie announced to me that Ms. E would not let her go to the bathroom during the day other than during scheduled breaks. I completely understand the rationalization behind this; twenty kids who each want to take a potty break throughout the day is probably mind-numbingly irritating. However, Kylie hasn't been able to hold it, and this week, I found myself dealing with accident number four. The kicker is that it happens sometime before lunch, and she doesn't get home until after 6. I furiously scribbled a (nice) note to Ms. E the other day politely asking that Kylie be allowed to go to the restroom as necessary due to her inability to hold it. After sending her to school, I felt incredibly proud of myself for standing up for her, figuring that Ms. E was probably allowing Kylie to take that needed break because I was a cool enough mommy to look out for her. Imagine my surprise when I found the note sitting next to my car keys when I left for work. Dammit...I was in such a rush to send her off to the bus stop that I forgot to even pack it. Ugh. Mommy guilt. The next day, I packed the note, and was incredibly surprised to find it still in Kylie's folder when she came home last night. What does that mean? Did she read it and ignore it? Did she not see it? Am I banned from 2nd grade field trips for the remainder of the year because I criticized the way she runs her classroom? Crap.

Shit...here I am blogging when I have an entire Greek play to read before Saturday morning. And the season premiere of Grey's Anatomy is on in 90 minutes, not to mention Bieber's appearance on CSI tonight, so there goes at least two hours of my evening. I had better get on the ball...

The Best Day

2010-09-19T20:43:00.005-04:00

"I didn't know if you knew, so I'm taking this chance to say that I had the best day with you today." -Taylor Swift

I took a three day weekend from work. Friday was technically a sick day because I hurt my lower back in pilates. For the past two weeks, I have been limping around in so much pain that I finally had to make a doctor's appointment. I haven't been able to run or otherwise workout for 15 days. I feel like a total cow, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the oreos that I have been snarfing since this whole thing began.

I took the weekend off to spend some time with Kylie; even though she lives with me, I feel like I never really see her. We get home from work/school, and she bolts outside to play with her friends. She doesn't come back inside until almost 9pm. It must suck to be so popular. Friday night, I took her to the fair that had set up in our town. Yesterday, my hometown had its annual Apple Festival, which I look forward to all year. We stuffed our faces with snow cones and apples covered in caramel. (I haven't figured out how, but I ended up with most of the caramel in my hair.)

We were planning to head to Asheville to see my brother and his family after the festival, but I just ran out of time. My brother thinks I'm a total ass because I am always planning to come up, and then I always cancel last minute. I get it; I suck. There are too many places that I need and want to be at the same time. I spent most of last week sick beyond explanation with some sort of cold that has been going around. As a result, I blew off my online humanities class until Friday night, which left me cramming 40+ pages worth of The Iliad into a 36 hour period. I had the hardest time getting through it; I think it took me as long to read the damn thing as it did for the Greeks and Trojans to fight the war that it talked about. I finished reading and writing my essays last night with an hour and 57 minutes before the deadline. I have never been so happy to hit a "submit" button in my life.

Then, there was today. Oooohhhh....today was sooooo good! Jeff drove down from Greensboro (where he lives...an hour away) to hang out with Kylie and me. I was a little surprised with myself for agreeing when he suggested getting together today, only because I normally don't allow the guys that I go out with to come within a ten-mile radius of my munchkin until they have been fingerprinted and have submitted to background screenings. I have only been seeing this guy for a week, and this was technically only our second date. But we kept it pretty casual; we had lunch at Subway and later went downtown to have ice cream. The entire day, I kept thinking, "What is this guy doing with me?" He just seems so amazing. I warned him early on that I tend to spook after a first date. It's like I'm ready to run at the first sign of abnormality. Give me a great guy who is normal, has a job that he loves, and is good to other people, and I will find something wrong with him. I've been looking really hard, and I haven't found it yet.

Oh, and all of my single friends out there...if you ever invite a guy to your apartment, please ensure that you erase his name from the Google "search" box on your laptop. If he happens to look at your computer, and he happens to see his name up there, he might be the one getting spooked. Yeah, try to explain that one away without looking like a total loon, even if you were just trying to convince yourself that he's not an axe murderer before he meets your daughter. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The Damndest Things....

2010-09-17T21:28:00.003-04:00

The words that pour out of Kylie's mouth never cease to amaze me. I can only imagine what it must be like to teach a room full of 2nd graders. I would never stop laughing.

Today, Jeff told me that he was teaching the kids in his class about the basic food groups. Kylie and I were in line at the post office this afternoon, and I asked her if she could name them. Her response? "Dairy, meat, fruit, vegetables, and chocolate." Everyone else in line cracked up. Who needs bread and cereal? Carbs are bad. I have clearly taught her well.

Tonight, we went to the fair in our little town and had an absolute blast. I spent a crapload of money in little less than two hours. On the way home, we were belting out our favorite Lady Gaga songs when, out of nowhere, Kylie yells, "Mommy, turn the music down!" I obliged as I continued to drive and she says, "Why are you under there, Mommy?" I was so confused. I figured the elephant ears and freshly squeezed lemonade had flooded my brain with too much sugar. "What, Kylie?" "Why are you under there, Mommy?" "Huh?" She repeated her question for the third time. "Under where, Kylie? I don't understand!" She broke into a fit of giggles. "I made you say 'underwear!'"

And I laughed just as hard as she did. I love second grade.

That Would be Me....

2010-09-16T18:15:00.006-04:00

This was the t-shirt the new boy had on today:

It was the highlight of my day.

The ex's brother (whom I have never met or even spoken to) has taken to bashing me on Facebook, which I think is incredibly bizarre, not to mention rude. Who dumped who, may I ask? As I have gotten older, I have learned to walk away from failed relationships with my integrity intact. While my inner demons are screaming at me to key car doors and slash tires, my mature side has realized that doing these things are nearly impossible with a seven year old in tow. Therefore, I have learned to let things go. I don't want to break all ties with this guy. Any interest that I had in romance with him are gone, but I don't want to end our friendship. I'm not at the point where I want to chat with him, yet one day, I may be there. He knows things about me that a lot of other people do not. Friends are hard to come by for me. I'm not willing to let that go.

But if his brother doesn't back the hell off, I have a set of spare keys, and Kylie is only about 4' tall. She could probably do some damage to the passenger's side of his car while I create a distraction. She's never too young to learn, after all.

My Date with Mr. Phys Ed

2010-09-15T22:41:00.013-04:00

The date was a total success. I'm still not quite sure that I believe it.

I guess I should have more faith in myself; the guy, J, really seemed to like me, and he's continuing to take my phone calls. I didn't even expect him to email me back on the dating website after I initially sent him a message. I thought he was way too cute for me.

As luck would have it, I woke up yesterday morning with the nastiest cold that I have had in years. It was complete with a runny nose and sneezing, and I spent most of the day with my mouth hanging open in a meager attempt to breathe. I just knew he was going to take one look at me and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. I warned him beforehand and made him promise that he could not judge me. There's nothing like allowing someone to see you at your worst on your first date. But apparently, the look-amazing thing hasn't worked out so well for me in the past, so I was willing to try something new. I'm sure that my nose had that nice red glow from all of the kleenex I went through just before meeting him. I was determined to make it through the entire date without wiping my nose on my shirt (or his).

Yesterday afternoon, he met me at the mall to have coffee with me on my late lunch break. As I mentioned, he is a teacher, and he skipped out of a last-minute staff meeting a few minutes early to make it on time. He drove 30 minutes each way in rush hour traffic to get there. I'm pretty impressed with the dedication he is already showing. I had a very small window of time to be away from my store, and it was worth every single second.

We spent 40 minutes at an incredibly romantic table in front of the Mr. Smoothie stand before I dragged him back to my store, where I forced him to come inside and meet two of my coworkers. I told him that they needed to see what he looked like so that it would be easier for us to talk about him after he left, and he truly didn't seem to mind. After he left, I raced back to the stockroom where I told one of them that I couldn't believe how adorable he was in person. You always wonder if the pictures someone posts on their profile will look anything like the real deal. (His did.) Lucky me!

Did I mention that he sounds like Matthew McConaughey? Oh yeah, that's some sexy stuff right there. And, in case you didn't know, teachers are hot. He uses great grammar.

There is absolutely going to be a second date. One that takes way longer than 40 minutes.

Here We Go Again...

2010-09-13T19:05:00.004-04:00

I have a date tomorrow. Crazy, right? It doesn't take me long to jump back on the bandwagon. I stopped moping around after about four days from the last debacle. I was pretty impressed with how quickly I snapped out of it. I won't lie, it still stings a little. I told my friend, K, today that anytime I go through a breakup, I allow myself a mourning period that is equivalent to the length of the relationship. She looked horrified when I reminded her that I went out with the most recent guy for three months. Three months really is a long time to miss someone who dumped you with a text.

Sooooo....the new guy is a teacher, specifically a PE teacher at an all ESL school. He knows limited foreign languages, but yesterday, he texted me, "Tu es bonita mujer!" Now that is the kind of text message that I like!

We are having coffee at Starbucks at the mall during my lunch break. That way, if he's crazy, I can call mall security before I make a mad dash back to the safety of my store. Or....he could be normal and actually like me, which would be just as unnerving.

Now, what the hell am I supposed to wear?!

Show Your Work!!

2010-09-08T21:49:00.004-04:00

(translation at the bottom)

Assignment: Use this space to show your work.
Kylie's response: "I thot in my mined."

I still catch myself sporadically crying in traffic, but this kid sure knows how to cheer me up.

The Sweet Smell of Rejection

2010-09-06T16:41:00.004-04:00

“Being with you is like going to a place that I had never been before. For the first time, everything seemed clear to me, like one logical progression. It felt like you and I were the greatest plan ever made and I had nothing to do with it. Being with you made me feel like maybe I didn't have to keep planning anymore because it felt like I was actually living. And for once in my life I didn't have to work so hard at being happy, that it could just happen. Nothing will ever hurt me as much as your reaction to that same experience.” -Boys and Girls, 2000

My God, getting dumped is the worst thing ever. I realize, logically, that there truly are worse things, but this is my moment, and I choose to wallow in it.

Like I mentioned the other day, I knew it was probably coming. I have felt it for a couple of weeks. It doesn't make it any easier to be rejected. I found myself going from feeling like a part of something, like I mattered to someone who isn't related to me and therefore forced to at least acknowledge my presence occasionally, to zilch. And even if I knew, even if I heard that little voice in the back of my mind saying, "Brace yourself...", I still agonize over what I did wrong. It's difficult to understand how someone that I have spent hours and hours talking to, who really seemed to get what I was saying, who made me feel like the things that spewed out of my mouth weren't complete rubbish, suddenly doesn't want to talk to me anymore.

I think that the entire dating scene has changed for me, and I'm not sure that I'm ever going to find someone who fits into it. I'm past the point of being spontaneous. I can't make plans at the last minute and rush off to some great restaurant in heels and red lipstick. I am a mom. I come home from work and throw chicken nuggets in the oven and plead with Kylie to do her math homework sometime before bedtime. I have an ex-husband who is a complete asshole. Sometimes, I'm going to need to vent about it. His asshole-ness is going to affect things. He is going to cancel his weekends with Kylie last minute just to screw with me. If I have plans already, they are going to have to change. Sometimes, date night is going to consist of coming over to my house and hanging out in the kitchen while Kylie watches Scooby Doo in the living room. The fairy tale isn't happening anymore. Real life got in the way, and I'm not going to apologize for it.

Whomever wants to date me needs to recognize the importance of making time for me. I don't have a hell of a lot of time to dedicate to one person, but what I give will be well worth it. I'm over dating people who keep me hanging. Don't ignore my text messages all day and then expect me to talk to you every night at 11pm. Don't tell me that you want me to meet your friends and your family, and then give me the run around when I tell you the same. Don't tell me you're too busy for anything and everything that I suggest. I guarantee that you aren't busier than I am. If you don't want to see me, tell me! If I give you an out and tell you that you're being distant and confusing, don't accuse me of starting an argument. Tell me that you're unhappy and that you don't want to see me. Don't take the asshole way out and tell me via text message that what we have is becoming more of a friendship. It's becoming a friendship because you let it, because you weren't interested in putting the work into it. Relationships are work. Good luck finding one that comes easily.

So, to the big meanie that dumped me: You're going to miss me. I don't particularly want to be your friend, for the sole reason that it will remind me of what we are not. There is a reason that you are 35 and have always been a bachelor. You say you want certain things, but I don't think you mean it. Be honest with yourself. It will be easier on those people who choose to date you. Now, I want to block you out of my mind, to clear my thoughts and erase you from my memory. I found myself sitting in Starbucks yesterday, crying over a latte without even realizing it had started. I hate you even more for hurting me and making me feel stupid for expressing it. And for the record, you have small....ahem...hands. Get over yourself.

This hurts, and I'm sad. :(

Cancellations

2010-09-03T19:09:00.010-04:00

"There is always one who loves more. You know, it's never fifty-fifty.... It's always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride." --Jodi Picoult

I was supposed to have a date tonight. This actually isn't a new guy; I've been seeing him for a couple of months. I just promised him that I wouldn't blog about him. I lied.

I was really really looking forward to tonight. Tomorrow is his birthday, and we haven't been able to get together in a few weeks because he was out of town for a new job. Things have been rolling along pretty smoothly. We talk on the phone everyday, sometimes for an hour or more. He makes me laugh, he understands my goals, he gives me pep talks when I want to set RB on fire. He remembers things that I forgot that I ever told him. He remembers what I wore on our first date. He gets me, and that's saying a lot.

But in the back of my mind, something is gnawing at me. Something is missing, and I can't put my finger on it. He says all of the right things, but it's almost like there is something he isn't saying, and I don't know what it is. In a way, I feel like he's keeping me at an arm's length, as though he's waiting for something better to come along. Sometimes, he makes me feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world, and other times, I feel like I'm stupid for thinking that this could work out. I had a feeling on Wednesday night that he was going to cancel tonight. He had said something about his brother taking him out for his birthday, and he told me that he would get back to me about whether Friday was going to work for us or not. I told him that it wasn't really fair for me to rearrange my schedule at work to accommodate his brother. I asked him why his brother couldn't make plans around ours. And that pissed him off. I didn't really think it was that unfair of a request, but there was an immediate shift in the conversation. He was mad. I got that sinking feeling in my stomach. Another one probably just bit the dust.

At work Friday, I told my associate that I felt like he was going to cancel. We took bets on it. Halfway through the day, I called him to see if we were still on. He said "yes" but that he wouldn't be available until at least 7pm, and he added that it would be an early night because he was so tired. I did not feel any better about his response. I returned to work and told everyone that he was going to cancel within the hour. I was right. He said we could go out Saturday night, but I had to work, and he already knew that. I was bummed.

I'm simply not good at cultivating relationships. Friendships, boyfriends, you name it. I'm not a people person. I tend to stick to a few close friends as opposed to having a herd of them. Maybe this makes me clingy, even though I try really hard not to be that way. Dating is super hard for me. I have trust issues. Hell, who doesn't have trust issues? And every time I go out with someone and it turns to crap, I am reminded of why I hate dating in the first place. The thought of having to start all over again, to learn about someone, to let them learn about me, is exhausting. I wonder if it's worth the effort.

This online dating thing is pretty irritating. I keep getting messages from the same guys over and over. I scroll through their profiles, and we seem to have nothing in common. I think I must be pretty damn boring. The interests I listed include running, reading, and blogging. Their interests tend to include mountain biking, boating, traveling to exotic places, playing on amateur sports teams. And they all want a girl who is perfect. One specifically mentioned, "no stretch marks." He actually emailed me, but I looked at his profile before I even read the message. I deleted it after seeing that. I work out a lot, but those stretch marks are here to stay. They're like battle scars. What becomes of my online dating life when I realize that I don't like any of my matches? Does that mean there is simply no hope? Am I destined to be alone?

On the phone earlier, I told Kylie that my date canceled on me tonight, and she replied with a sigh and said," Oh Mommy, I knew he was going to." She is never going to want to date when she is older. I can't blame her. I don't particularly want to do it myself.

My mom says that I'm wasting my time with this guy, and deep inside, I believe her. It's just really difficult to go from being a part of something to not being a part of something. A silent phone is no fun, even if I do spend half of my day sitting here waiting for it to ring. It has been pretty quiet around here lately...

Things I Learned Today:

2010-09-01T18:45:00.003-04:00

If I wasn't so fried from the act of living through today, this would probably be a better blog post, but whatever. I care not. This is a crapload of randomness...be warned. Sorry, it's not Tuesday.

Some guy in a big pickup almost ran me off the interstate this morning on my way to work because he realized that he was going to miss his exit, and he was in the left lane. When I blew the horn at him to let him know I was there, he flipped me off. I would have probably cared more if it weren't for another truck that was in front of me with a black Lab riding in the back. I was busy silently pleading with the dog to not jump out of the truck while it was driving along. How do dogs know to stay in there? I was so nervous that he was going to take a leap of faith and that I would be stopping to rescue him.

On the way home (on the same spot on the interstate), a truck driving next to me with a big trailer on the back blew a tire. It was the loudest, scariest thing I've ever heard. I honestly thought someone was shooting at me.

Kylie and I stopped at the grocery store on the way home, and we splurged on a package of ripe, juicy strawberries. She insisted on carrying them through the store, and of course, dropped them while I was debating between Whitewheat or Sara Lee bread. About half of the package fell on the nasty grocery store floor. There was an intense moment of thinking, "Shit, what do I do?" I couldn't just take them back and get another package because that would be wasteful, and it was our fault that they were now infested with germs. I could pay for the strawberries that were still in the package and simply throw away the rest, but I felt like I was getting screwed then because only about 2/3 of the package remained in the package! Alas, I scooped the strawberries up, crammed them back into the plastic container, and assured Kylie we would wash them when we got home. (We did.)

Within moments of walking into our townhouse, I looked out the window in the front and saw a police officer parking in front of our building. Kylie and I watched through the curtains in anticipation to see where she would go. I don't know why, but I was nervous, even though I know I'm not on the run for anything! Is that normal? I looked at Kylie, and asked if she had done anything recently to get arrested, and she assured me that she was completely innocent. Then, in the back of my mind, I was thinking that maybe Rat Bastard was going to try to pull something. But I don't think he's that smart. Phew...the police officer went to the townhouse next door. Ironically, she was the same police officer who was in court when Rat Bastard and I went a couple of weeks ago.

Oh, and today, I unwittingly deleted about 30 comments from my blog. There is some weird new list on Blogger that shows all of the comments that have been posted on your blog. In an attempt to clean off the list, I hit "select all" and "delete," not realizing that it actually wiped them off the blog post itself. I feel like a horse's ass. I really liked my comments. Poo.

Anyone want to come over for strawberries? I'm making shortcake.

Feelin' Good...

2010-08-30T22:14:00.004-04:00

"...then I got my hair did. I felt like a million bucks, but then it rained. Can't catch a break, but I'm gonna be okay...Feel good. I wanna feel good. Watch me shake it off, shake it off...today's a better day." --Che'nelle, "Feel Good"

I can't listen to the song mentioned above without smiling. I had the music video from youtube on my blog a couple of weeks ago. I really hate putting videos on here because they sometimes take a long time to load, and I find them annoying. But I simply can't resist that song. It plays on our CD at work, and even if I am in a positively craptastic mood, the line above always makes me smile.

Munchkin started second grade last week. This is the first year that I didn't cry on her first day. I think that shows incredible progress on my part. Plus, she's at the age where a sobbing mommy is simply not kosher. Instead, we sat in my car at the bus stop and blasted Justin Bieber at top volume. I felt like the coolest mom ever. I'm not sure how I feel about her teacher yet. I realize that at some point, teachers will no longer send home intricate details about what is going on in the classroom, but I expected that somewhere along the lines of middle school. I didn't think that there was that much difference between first grade and second grade. My kid is still losing her teeth for crying out loud; is it so bad that I want to know what she is learning at school? By the time she has gotten home at 6 o'clock, she can't remember what she had for lunch. Oh, and the bus was 15 minutes early this morning. We are the first stop, so it goes without saying that I was irked to realize that it had come and gone by the time we went out to watch for it. The poor principal is the one who had to hear me vent about it when I dropped Kylie off in the car rider line. This is the same man who comforted me on her first day of kindergarten as I wiped snot on my now-ex's sleeve. Can he never catch me on a good day? I don't want to turn into that mom. You know, the crazy one.

I also made a big change for myself. I marched into the salon last week and demanded that I become a brunette/redhead. I have been blonde for as many years as I can remember. When my stylist pulled out a color swatch and matched it to my natural color, I couldn't believe it was really that dark! I'm still a little surprised every time I look in the mirror. My own assistant didn't recognize me when I came to work over the weekend. It's amazing how a hair color can completely change the way you feel. The red makes me feel dangerous, vixen-ish. I think there's a little bit of bad girl in there somewhere, and I'm going to find her. Or not. I'm content with people just thinking that I'm bad.

Loooooooooser....(the Story of Rat Bastard)

2010-08-23T20:07:00.007-04:00

A week ago today, I took Rat Bastard to court, and I won. However, I still feel like a loser. I put off this entire court battle because I knew that he was going to make my life hell after we went. And he is.

Rat Bastard is such a loser, in more ways than one.

When I was twenty years old, I moved by myself to (what seemed to me) the big city. I was going through that crisis that many of us are familiar with. I was fresh out of a relationship that had been tumultuous at best, and I was ready for a new lease on life. A new apartment, a new college, a new outlook. Apparently, my new mission in life was to find the biggest ass-wipe on the planet and to make him mine. Needless to say, I was successful.

There were warning signs that I chose not to see. The ex-wife, the two kids that lived in another state, the fact that he lived with his parents. Yeah, my mom raised me to be smarter than that, but I was in a state of rebellion. Being the good girl was not working for me, and I just needed something to latch on to. Looking back, I wish that I could do everything differently. It's a given that I wouldn't trade Kylie for the world; that being said, I can't help but kick myself for going in with my blinders on. I was not the girl who should have made so many bad decisions.

Fast forward nine years. For the past couple of years, Rat Bastard could barely make time to see Kylie. He was too busy knocking up his (at the time) boss to pay attention to the child he already had. And when they both got fired because of their fornication, he suddenly couldn't support Kylie at all, not that he had been much of an active participant in that. To say the least, it's been really hard. I'm not one to play the "woe is me...I'm a single mom" card. I get so tired of hearing that from people, and I get it. But I'm also not the type to think that the world owes me something because I chose to procreate with the wrong douchebag.

Here's where it gets messy.

That court thing? He's gotta pay me a shitload of cash every month. Oh yeah, that sounds great and everything, if I ever see a dime of it. Given his track record, it's not a guarantee. He tends to not keep a job for more than five or six months, and then he manages to get himself fired for one reason or another. He moves a lot. There is absolutely nothing stable about him. It's stressful.

Suddenly, since my court "victory," Rat Bastard wants nothing to do with Kylie. He doesn't want to talk to her (not that he could really talk to her any less than usual), and he is blowing her off. He was supposed to pick her up last night, but he never came. He wouldn't answer his phone when I called, and he ignored the voicemails that Kylie and I each left him. Kylie starts school on Wednesday, and summer camp ended last week. I was left scrambling to find someone to take Kylie today so that I could go to work. My neighbor was completely gung-ho about helping me out. She told me that whenever I needed her, she was there. As soon as she found out that I was going to be getting child support from the Bastard, she was all over letting me pay her to watch Kylie. I called her tonight to see if she could keep Kylie tomorrow. Her response was, "I'll let you know."

Hmmmm....this is not a great situation. My parents are suddenly bending over backwards to have Kylie tomorrow. They live an hour away. I feel like such an inconvenience. I'm so mad at myself, and I can't really pinpoint the reason why. I guess for any number of things. For choosing the wrong person, for staying as long as I did, for not being able to protect my child from her asshole father. I'm angry for not having options, and I'm pissed that I didn't move closer to my family a couple of months ago when I had the chance. I'm irritated that I waited as long as I did to take RB to court, and I'm equally irritated that I did it all since I knew that he was going to pull the rug out from beneath me. Not that he hasn't been a ticking time bomb all this time.

I'm angry because I did it all wrong, and I don't know how to fix it. And between you and me, for whatever reason, I'm scared. It sucks.

Blink

2010-08-12T09:55:00.000-04:00

"Feels like I'm wasting my time, hanging on the same old line. There's nothing left for me to find. All the more I want, all the more I need. All the while you want something more." -Train

I had a dream last night that I was expecting twins. This may sound completely random, but it wasn't the fact that I was having double the fun that I remember. What sticks out is that I was so unbelievably happy. I woke up, and I was immediately sad that it had just been a dream. Not that I'm pining to have multiple babies, but because that feeling is so elusive.

I have been really lonely lately. I can't really determine why or when this occurred. I have always been the type to keep to myself for the most part. I've just been too shy to be a social butterfly. Even when I was little, I had a couple of close friends instead of a large circle. I'm not good at forming new relationships. In some ways, I'm too trusting, and in other ways I don't trust anything. I went out with a guy recently who, upon hearing me proclaim that about myself, stated that I couldn't have it both ways. But he was wrong. I have walked out of every romantic relationship that I have ever been in feeling as though I clearly had blinders on. I see things, major things, that I allowed myself to overlook. It scares me at how easily I can trust someone, and it is making me more untrusting of everyone. Nice trait, huh?

Right now, I wake up everyday feeling like I'm waiting for something. I'm not sure of what it is, but it's there. Not necessarily twins, mind you, but maybe something that they might represent. In a blink, my 20s have come and (almost) gone. I look around, and in many ways, this is not where I expected to be at all. I'm sure that's what everyone says, but it still leaves me a little bewildered. I'm missing something, and nothing, and everything all at once. It's exasperating.

I'm kinda rambling, but I'm still trying to make sense of the mush that has my mind has become. Bear with me...

My Juggling Act

2010-08-05T10:13:00.006-04:00

I have unconsciously been avoiding my blog. I have been somewhat lost in my own head, a dark and murky place as we all know. Every time I click on my own blog, I feel a little guilty for abandoning it. Lately, I can barely organize my thoughts in my mind, much less in writing.

I knew that this summer was going to be a little nutty for me. Kylie is going to summer camp at the Y, which has thrown me into a tizzy of disorganization. Suddenly, I am trying to handle her crazy schedule of swimming, field trips, and going to the splash pad at the park. Each day requires it's own equipment, and there is nothing worse than sending your child to camp for swim day without a bathing suit. (Epic mommy fail!) I consider it a good day if I manage to make her brush her teeth AND her hair in any given morning.

Everyday, my to-do list for work and home is way longer than I can manage. It's back-to-school season, which equals insanity for those of us in the retail world. Today is my first day off in over a week. I am pooped. I went running this morning, which is the first time I have gone since my scary guy experience. Last month, I committed to 21 days of pilates, which has been amazing. I can tell a huge difference in the way I look and feel. But running is my thing, and I have missed it. Of course, my insane schedule and the blazing North Carolina summer heat have also been contributing factors in my lack of fresh air.

Furthermore, I am in desperate need of a vacation. Both of my parents are on vacation in Michigan, which is my favorite place on earth. I am so incredibly jealous. There is nothing I would rather be doing right now that sitting at my grandma's kitchen table. I used to go every summer when I was a kid, but then adulthood threw a wrench in that. Because of my profession, vacation in the summer is pretty much out, and it's virtually impossible to yank Kylie out of school for a week so we can go away. How do other parents do it? Then there is the question of driving (16+ hours in a car with a 7 year old) versus flying (holy crap...$400+ per plane ticket). I have to figure it out, though. I really miss my family.

I have also made the decision to go back to school this fall. I have wanted to do this for years, but I always made excuses to avoid it. I have pretty much spent the past few years in an absolutely overwhelmed state. I could not fathom throwing any more fuel on the fire. However, one of my girlfriends reminded me last month that every semester that I put it off would be that much longer before I had a degree. So here I go, another act in my three-ring circus. It's pretty nerve wracking.

Last but not least, I am taking Rat Bastard to court in a little over a week. I'm pretty nervous, but I'm excited at the same time. For the past three years, I have been solely responsible for supporting our child. He has continued to surprise me with his ability to be a crappy parent in his lack of both attention and financial assistance to our daughter. Going to court is scary. The only other time I have been is when I got divorced. That was weird in itself because RB and I sat next to each other and joked around the entire time. Somehow, I feel like this will be a slightly different situation.

This was seriously a blog of complete randomness. Maybe I can get past this writer's block I have seemed to have for the past month or so.

Blah

2010-07-15T09:09:00.002-04:00

Today, I feel like this:

Hopefully, tomorrow I will feel like this:

Ugh.

Carrie Meets Scary Guy

2010-07-13T09:54:00.003-04:00

Through my entire life, I have had this unbelievable ability to find the scariest, creepiest men on the planet and draw them to me. It's a gift. A gift that is equivalent to finding a wrapped package of chicken livers under the Christmas tree with my name on it (in big, bold letters, no less). Some of my friends have told me that these people want to talk to me because I have such an inviting personality. I never want to hurt anyone's feelings, and I'm always so conscious of making everyone feel special. I really wish that I could just be one of those girls who didn't give a rat's ass about other people's thoughts and feelings. Nope. Instead, I apparently give off some sort of "I'm friendly" pheremone that attracts the losers and weirdos. I'm such a lucky girl.

On my morning off last week, I decided to go for a run on the greenway near my house. I parked my car at the YMCA where Kylie goes to summer camp and made my way through a smaller park that connects to the larger one with the running path. I was in heaven. The weather was great, and my I-pod was playing happy songs. I got about halfway through the big park when I saw him. At first, he didn't seem all that creepy. He was a decent looking, football-player sized guy, wearing workout clothes and running shoes, standing off the side of the trail. By this time, I was out of breath and had slowed down to a walk. He appeared to be laughing at my panting, and as I passed him, I said, "Not fair for you to laugh at me!" This was not meant to be an invitation for anything, but that's not how he took it. The next thing I knew, he was jogging right alongside of me. Immediately, my first thought was that I was going to have to make small talk with this guy until I could manage to lose him. The reason I love running so much is that I can do it by myself. I really hate the majority of people, and running allows me to avoid going to a gym where I would actually have to socialize with other people. He wanted to know where I was from, what I did for a living, if I was married. I hate that question. If I say "no," the creepy guys always assume that I'm fair game. I responded with, "No, but I have a boyfriend." (Okay, yeah, not so much anymore, but what else was I going to say?) I was absolutely not expecting his response. He said, "That's all right baby. I can just be your thing on the side. You know, you call me up when your boyfriend isn't there, and I'll come over. We can keep it on the hush."

WTF? Did he really say that to me? How did I become such a winner-magnet?

I was clearly uncomfortable at this point, but I was also kind of stuck. I just wanted to run, alone. I still thought that he might just go away if I blew him off. I made some comment about how that wasn't really my thing, and for the moment, it seemed to appease him. We kept making our way through the park, alternating between running and walking. He told me about his job as a medical technician at the hospital nearby; he said he was on vacation at the time and was trying to squeeze in some exercise on his downtime. He suggested that we meet a few times a week to work out together. I told him that I really don't have a set schedule as far as running, which would make that impossible. He asked me specifically where I lived and where I worked, but I wouldn't tell him. This entire time, I was looking around and watching for other runners. Usually, this park is slammed with people, especially on such a gorgeous day. No such luck. And this dude was giving me the willies. Every episode of Dateline and 20/20 that I had ever seen about some stupid girl who ends up in the woods with a complete stranger was running through my mind. I knew I couldn't outrun him if necessary, and he was making me really uncomfortable. He was moving closer to me on the trail, and I was running out of room. I don't know...I can't really describe it, but I wasn't getting a good vibe. I was praying that if something should happen to me, someone from the park would remember seeing the blonde girl with the pink tank top running with the big guy. Would it be possible for me to poke his eyes out with my car keys? Could I dial 911 on my BB in time? That's freaky shit.

We reached the end of the greenway and turned around to make our way back. He asked me what I was doing after my run, and I told him that I had to go to work. Then he asked if I would let him come over to my place. Jesus. Really? I told him "no way" and thought he'd drop it. Silly me. I could tell he was staring at me, and then he pulled out the SUPER CREEP card. He said, "Do you shave down there?" WHAT?! I told him I was not telling him that. Not to be shut down, he asked, "You like it in the ass?" Holy freakin' f**k, I was going to die. This weirdo was going to drag me into the trees and kill me. We were approaching the main highway, and I just took off in a run again. He, of course, followed.

My adrenaline was pumping so much, and I was so terrified of the situation and of him. At one point, he asked me if he could walk me back to my car. I said "no" and was extremely grateful for the fact that I had parked at the YMCA instead of in the parking lot at the park. At least I could go into the YMCA and stay there until he went away. I didn't want this guy knowing what I drive or, worse yet, following me home and knowing where I live. He told me that he had parked over at the park's main entrance, so he went the opposite way. Finally I had lost him. I ran back to my car faster than ever, stopping before I reached it to make sure he was nowhere to be found. I breathed a sigh of relief to be safe.

I told everyone about the Scary Guy. My dad told me he was buying me a can of pepper spray. My friend, Jeremy, offered his .38. Sean told me to never go back to the park again. Another friend said, "Don't worry about it. What are the odds that you will see him again?"

I thought that was the end of the story, but no such luck. I have avoided the park like the plague for the past few days, choosing instead to run downtown, thankful for the public atmosphere. Today, however, I had the morning off. I thought to myself that he was at work since he had given me his schedule (which was probably completely made up). Once again, I parked at the YMCA and went through both parks, looking over my shoulder the entire time. When I reached the end of the greenway, I decided to avoid running back through the park, and I trekked along the highway on the sidewalk instead. As I crossed back through the smaller park and made my way into the YMCA parking lot, I looked up and saw him. He saw me, too, and he started to say something, and I took off toward the main building. I was not having this. I waited for a few minutes until I was convinced that he was gone before leaving.

Did I mention how pissed I am? Dammit. That bastard is back, and he is taking over MY running spot. I don't even feel safe going there now. And the fact that he parked at the YMCA this time is extra creepy. Why can't weirdos stay at home and watch porn on the internet? Why do they have to come out in public and find ME?! ME! I want to be left the hell alone! Now I need a new spot. Or a disguise. Would it be weird to run with a paper bag over my head?

J-E-L-L-O!

2010-07-07T06:16:00.003-04:00

I love that during my morning pilates workout on my Exercise TV channel, an ad for Jello popped up randomly at the bottom of my television screen. It said, "Jello: So Jiggly, So Giggly, So Fun!" It's just the motivation I need to keep trying to tone my ass.

That's all...

Today I...

2010-07-01T20:43:00.003-04:00

...deleted all of the voicemails that you-know-who left me.

...erased zillions of text messages (also from you-know-who).

...refused to call him, and contemplated having my seven-year-old hide my phone from me to ensure that it didn't happen.

I feel like dog crap, even though I'm trying not to. The strangest thing is going from talking to someone three or four times a day to nothing. Zilch. My phone has never been more quiet. I hate it. Talk about hitting a wall. With no explanation. Ugh. I feel like such a fool. That's the worst part. I teased myself with a little bit of happy, and then got slapped in the face with the silliness of it all.

You know what I don't get? I have a LOT going for me! I have a great job, I'm self-sufficient, and I have fantastic hair. And at the end of the day, I don't think there is a man out there who is MAN-enough for me. That's it. End of story.

God, this is about so much more than the effing boyfriend. Why can't shit be easy?

Dammit, I'm out of kleenex.

How to Get Dumped

2010-06-30T18:07:00.004-04:00

Step One: Receive "We need to talk" text message. Instantly feel as though you have been socked in the stomach. Attempt to rationalize how those words could be spun into something positive. Fail at rationalization.

Step Two: Actually answer the phone when the bf calls, even knowing that nothing he says will be good. Remain silent when he says that he is re-evaluating everything, including you. Try to remember to breathe.

Step Three: Hang up, and immediately retreat to dark bathroom, where you will spend the next hour crying. Wonder what is wrong with you. Vow to strangle anyone who tells you that it has nothing to do with you in an attempt to make you feel better. Try to think of people to call who might console you. Leave message for older brother. Call mom, even though you know she is out of town. Realize that you no longer have any girlfriends that you talk to on a regular basis. Feel extra sorry for yourself now.

This shit never gets any easier, no matter how many times you go through it.

The Boyfriend Analyzation Project

2010-06-27T11:27:00.009-04:00

Contrary to what you may be thinking based on the title alone, this is not necessarily a blog about the new bf, as I promised him that I would respect his privacy and not write specifically about him. And to be perfectly honest, he hasn't exactly earned the title "boyfriend" yet, although I'm not quite sure at which point that becomes clear. You see, we are taking things slow. Just for giggles though, I will refer to him as "the bf" because it's so much easier than saying "the guy I've been seeing for the past 40 days who hasn't found a reason to ditch me yet." (Yes, I counted the days, and you would have counted them too had your longest relationship since your separation/divorce (almost 3 years ago) been approximately 2 weeks.)

I stumbled across this website via Facebook called Guyspeak, which is basically a site where chicks can write in their questions about the male species, which are in turn answered by such creatures. Some of the questions are completely stupid, and some are ones that I would ask myself, although I would never admit having wondered about such things. This website, coupled with my fascination with "Glamour" and "Cosmo" magazines, is helping me to understand the ins and outs of dating. Being almost 30, I really don't have as much experience as one might think. I was with Rat Bastard from the week after my 21st birthday until I was a couple of months away from 27. And while he used those years to continue to sharpen his dating skills, I put the brakes on mine because I thought that was what I was supposed to do while married. I warned the new bf that I have incredibly MAJOR trust issues because of my disastrous marriage. I'm so horribly bad at picking up on the fact that someone is lying to me that I now just assume that it's happening until proven otherwise. This can't be easy for anyone who finds themselves in the awkward position of dating me. I felt it was only fair to forewarn him so that if and when my crazy should begin to rear it's ugly head, he will at least know why.

I've dated a few different guys since my Rat Bastard days, and they were all disastrous in their own way. As the last guy I dated mentioned, my blog seems to be an endless diary to my dating experiences. When he brought it up to me, he made me sound slutty without the sex. He probably only said that because deep down he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was added to the list of FAILS. This guy was the same one who was ready to marry me after two dates, which is simply not acceptable. As my mom said, this boy was not simply looking for a relationship; he was looking for a wife. That's not a term that I use lightly these days. Not to say that I don't want to get married again someday, but I'm pretty skittish. Rightfully so, I believe.

So for whatever reason, the new bf has made it past the one month mark, which is quite a feat, even if he doesn't recognize it as such. I'm still pretty darn insecure about "us" in general, which I will not admit to him. It all goes back to those trust issues. Also, we are moving at a snail's pace. Is it possible to move slower than a snail's pace? After all, we are both grownups with jobs and crazy schedules, and then there is the factor of that little short person who lives with me 99% of the time. I'm not at the point where I am ready to introduce her. Once that occurs, an entirely new can of worms is opened up. I have to make sure this guy isn't going to bolt before I get mini-me involved. I have her best interest in mind, of course. And there is also that matter of my pride to protect. After I got dumped last time over the dog issue, Kylie point blank asked me, "Mommy, why do guys always quit you?" Oh, baby girl, if Mommy only knew. I told her that I haven't found one that was good enough for us yet. It isn't just all about me here; we're a package deal. I'm not worried at all about the new bf meshing well with K, but I'm not rushing it. This one seems normal, and he is willing to put up with me for now, and (when asked) he said that he is not seeing anyone else. Perhaps I should have asked the ex-husband that, too. Live and learn, I guess. I think that's actually the thing that I like most about this one; he doesn't remind me at all of any of my ex's. Usually there is one thing that sticks out that makes me have a flashback. Not this time. It's really refreshing.

So for the moment, I'm going to try to simply not analyze this too much. I can't deal with giving myself another complex. I'm just trying to sit back, enjoy the ride, and hope that he isn't attempting to analyze me somewhere along the way. That's a pretty scary thought in itself.

On Staying Put

2010-06-25T16:12:00.002-04:00

I'm on vacation.

Not the exciting kind where I am going somewhere that requires packing a suitcase or even an overnight bag. Nope, this time I'm staying home.

I was originally planning to move into a new apartment in an old city where I used to live. I have been planning this for months, almost a year, in fact. When I renewed my lease last October, I asked if I could make it for nine months so that my move could coincide with Kylie's summer vacation. I didn't want to yank her out of school mid-year; that's a horrible thing to do to a child. I planned to take time off work, I collected boxes, and I cleaned out my closet in an attempt to rid myself of excess crap that I didn't feel like moving into my new place. I scheduled new cable service, I arranged to have my mail forwarded, I emailed the power company about having my service transferred. I was moving full speed ahead until suddenly I got cold feet. I realized that I simply didn't have the ambition to pack anything. I thought that this move was going to make everything easier for me. I was going to be closer to my friends and my family. I was looking forward to new things, new beginnings. But one random day, I was on the phone with my dad, and he said to me, "You know, you really don't have to move. If you want to stay put, that's okay." And it was like he gave me the permission I wouldn't allow myself to change my mind. Move canceled, lease renewed for another year, problem solved.

But I still feel kinda empty, like something is missing. I just can't get motivated. I need something new, something to keep me going, and I can't quite figure out what it is. I'm not even sure where to begin. Is it a hobby? A friendship? A new passion? I'm drawing a great big blank. The things that normally make me happy are simply blah. I don't want to read a book, watch a movie, try a new recipe. I don't even feel like shopping. Getting out of bed requires more energy than I can find, yet I do it because I have to. I'm just tired. Tired of everything. Exhausted.

I'm sort of at a loss here. I have that incredible urge to get in my car and drive far, far away. I want to be anywhere but here. I feel overwhelmed by everything. It sucks.

I'm open to suggestions...

Watch Your Mouth

2010-06-22T07:09:00.003-04:00

Kylie is attending summer camp at the YMCA, and she is always bringing home scrap pieces of paper that she has doodled on during their down time. I pulled this out of her bag this morning and couldn't help cracking up over what she accused herself of doing. After all, I have obviously set such a great example for her.

Here Kitty Kitty

2010-06-15T10:24:00.006-04:00

Remember the guy I went out with a few months ago? I know it's difficult to keep them all straight, but this is the one before the amazing guy I'm seeing now and before the dog-pee man.

This guy is someone that I see on an almost-daily basis. Unlike the majority of my relationships, this one didn't particularly end badly. It just kind of fizzled out. It was, of course, his fault. As he was dumping me, he used the words "I'm just not ready for a relationship," which in reality means "I'm not ready for a relationship with you." Right about the time that he made this pronouncement, I stumbled across an article on msn.com that was about dating, and one of the ladies who was quoted said, "If a guy tells you he's not ready for a relationship, believe him." (This particular lady also happened to be from Traverse City, Michigan, which is where I was born, so I am convinced that she is automatically a genius.) I took her advice to heart, which is why I got over this guy pretty fast. (Not to say that I wasn't a total bitch to him for a week or so, but that's to be expected.)

The past couple of months have allowed us to shift back into "friend" mode, and he knows I'm seeing someone else. All of the "you dumped me" awkwardness is gone. A few days ago, I ran into him at work, and he was in a pissy mood. Being the caring and compassionate friend that I am, I asked him what was wrong. This is what he said (in total venting mode):

"You know what? I'm pissed off. Today, this girl I'm seeing asked me to bring her a fork. She brought her lunch to work, but she forgot her fork. So I brought her a fork, but she was mad because I put it in my pocket and she thought it was dirty. My pocket isn't dirty. And then when I got there, she said, 'You didn't bring me a drink? Why didn't you bring me a drink?' I can't believe it. I've done everything for this girl. She went out of town for a few days, and I took care of her cats. [**HE HATES CATS!!**] I had to buy this special cat litter for them, and I changed the litter, and I fed them. Aaaaaand she had mentioned that she really wanted patio furniture, so I surprised her with some patio furniture. I even put a little plant on the patio table so it would look pretty when she got home. I did ALL of this, and then she wants to bitch about a fork? What the hell? I'm really pissed."

Mind you, I'm listening to all of this, and I'm trying so hard not to laugh. I found it incredibly amusing partly because I know somewhere in my dating life, I have acted just like that girl. Also, this is what he gets for saying he wasn't ready for a relationship. And, for the record, on the day that he was telling me this story, I was looking pretty damn hot. I'm not saying that because I'm vain or snotty (well, maybe a little), but because he had me, and now he has crazy-patio-furniture/get-me-a-fork/cat-lady. I simply feel terrible for him.

After he finished his rant, I couldn't resist jabbing him a little. That is what friends do, right? I said, "Why didn't you ever come cat-sit for me? And I like patio furniture, too, you know." He paused for a second, puzzled, and said, "You don't have any cats." I just laughed and told him, "That's not the point." I'm such a bitch. That's what he gets for not being ready for a relationship.

I, on the other hand, have been going out with the same guy for a month. A MONTH! And I haven't found anything that annoys the crap out of me about him yet, which is saying a lot. This is coming from the girl who always wants a boyfriend until I have one, and then I will find any reason whatsoever to get rid of him. He made me promise not to blog about him, which is basically the equivalent of asking me not to wear mascara, but I like him so much that I will oblige. For now.

Blah

2010-06-12T12:32:00.001-04:00

I'm bitchy and hormonal, and I'm having a difficult time stringing together sentences to make paragraphs. So I just decided to list sentences.

I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought.

I'm tired of waiting for phone calls to be returned.

I'm tired of my hour commute.

I'm tired of allergies and migraines.

I'm tired of trusting people who end up shitting on me. Because they always do.

I'm tired of being spread too thin, but not seeing an alternative.

I'm tired of other people thinking they know what's best for me because it makes me question all of my decisions.

I'm tired of apologizing to people when they can't make time for me and I think it must be because of something I have done.

Ahhhh...that feels a little better.

Moving On...

2010-06-07T18:58:00.004-04:00

Rat Bastard's love child was welcomed into the world this morning. How sweet. I knew the day was coming anytime, and they were scheduled for a c-section two days from now. I was all set to dread Wednesday. Let me take this moment to remind each of you that this is not one of those situations where I am jealous that RB is reproducing with someone else. That could not be farther from the truth. I am pissed off that he is reproducing at ALL when he is such a rotten father to the one little person who means the world to me. My friend, Lori, has suggested that we contact any and every government agency to ask about a forced castration. I foresee heartache in my baby's future when this relationship that he is currently in goes down the shitter. And it will undoubtedly go down the shitter.

Last night, I was on the phone with the new bf (who is still unbelievably normal and amazing), and I told him that Wednesday was the expected D-day. I sarcastically said that I was soooo excited for RB's newest addition. Sean didn't pick up on the sarcasm at first. He said, "Really? That's so noble of you." (or something to that effect) I considered letting him believe that I really do have a good and kind heart by not correcting him, but I figured it was only a matter of time (probably within the next few days or so) before he realized that the opposite is true. Not that I wish anything bad for this new bundle of joy. I hope that she is healthy and beautiful, as in hoping that she is blessed with her mother's big ass lips. (I'm talking Lisa Rinna style here, and not in a good way.)

In less than three weeks, I will be moving an hour away to be closer to my friends and my family. This will mean that I will be that much further away from you-know-who. I am better off without that poison in my life. It has been almost ten years since I was within a decent distance of the people that matter the most to me. For once, it is nice to put myself first and know that I will no longer have to depend on someone toxic for anything. In order to get make room in his two-bedroom apartment for a fifth person, RB has been sending Kylie home with all sorts of her toys and clothes that he no longer has room for. For the most part, I don't really mind. But the second he sends her home with an "I'm the Big Sister" t-shirt, I'm having a bonfire on my back patio. You're all invited. Bring your own marshmallows.

Now I Know My ABC's

2010-05-31T20:10:00.004-04:00

This afternoon, I met Chuck in a parking lot at a new shopping center that is halfway between our houses so that I could get Kylie. She spent Memorial Day with him instead of going to the YMCA as originally planned. He tried to bribe her with the idea of spending the day in the pool at his apartment. Is it wrong that I was secretly thrilled that it rained, therefore ruining his little "I'm the cooler parent" plan?

I pulled into the parking lot before he did, and I was ecstatic to find an ABC store directly in front of my parking space. The "open" sign was lit up just like Christmas morning. I called Chuck to find out how close he was, and when he said that he was still a few minutes away, I told him that I was going to make a mad dash for some vodka.

Five minutes later, I walked out with a brown paper bag in my hand and a smile on my face, knowing that I was sure to win Mom-of-the-Year under these circumstances. Chuck and Kylie were waiting beside my car, and Chuck was laughing. He told me that after pulling in, he told Kylie that I had gone into the ABC store, but that I would be out in a second. Kylie said, "Oh, mommy has taken me in there before." (For the record, NO I haven't!) Chuck responded with, "Really? She has?" (I can only imagine the thoughts that were running through his head.)

"Yup," Kylie told him. "She bought me markers there."

(Markers are my favorite!)