Where Does The Time Go? or...Man, Those Earrings Are Lovely

It's been too long. I know. I know.  It's been so long that I don't know where to begin! It's been so long that I almost just gave up on this blog and started a whole new one all together!

It's August.  Summer is coming to an end and the kids are going back to school soon (finally!).  It flew by, really, just like this entire year has so far.  Mike has moved in and we're cohabiting peacefully, talking about getting married, planning on opening up a business together, and scheduling our sex just like grown-ups do.  Sunday we'll have been together for 9 months.  It's love and I like it.
I honestly can't wait to get our business up and running.  It is going to be an awesome experience and we are so excited about it.  Things in the office here have gotten a little excruciatingly boring lately and I've all but given up on finding any sort of happiness in my current position.  We've lost some accounts and workload is down, so people tend to socialize.  I am forced to sit in my area because I am the receptionist.  I have to stay put.  Others, however, see fit to get up and wander and chat excessively in their boredom.  I hate this.  I feel like I'm backed into a corner.  I can't get out.  I can't say, "Can't you see I'm extremely busy refreshing my Facebook and Twitter every 5 seconds?!" because I'm too nice...and let's face it...I could get fired.  I don't make eye contact with most people that come up front because I do not want them to feel welcome enough to converse.  It's awful and rude, yes.  But, I'm sick of hearing about people's cats or illnesses or their periods or, even better, their sex life.  Believe me, it's fucking AWESOME that you have a boyfriend that can last for hours and that you are able to have multiple orgasms. FUCKING AWESOME. We should all be that lucky. Maybe...just maybe...I don't want to hear about it at work.  After a pitcher or two of sangria? Count me in.  We can talk about what positions you like too.  Otherwise, leave me to stalk people on Facebook and look at cool shit on Etsy in peace. Please. I'm begging you.  Oh! But definitely tell me about the shot glasses that look like shotgun shells that you found online..because those were kick ass.

Speaking of cool shit on Etsy, I am so addicted to that site.
(Aside: Turns out that both Mike and I were blogging at the same time and both mentioned Etsy.  This is without talking or reading each others blogs.  This stuff happens all the time with us.  We are connected on some other level that I cannot even begin to explain. But I digress...)
I have found a plethora of amazing things.  Items for upcoming nuptials, accessories, home decor, vintage engagement rings, and random oddities. It's the random oddities that keep me entertained throughout the week.  There is a never ending supply.  Let's take a moment to look at this artisan that I found last week.
VulvaLoveLovely is her name and vaginas/female reproductive systems are her game.  This is just a portion of the items she creates.

Uterus fanny pack.

Earrings. Vulva earrings.

For the woman who has everything: A pendant of her own vagina. Just send them a picture!

Uterus pillow. Soooo cuddly.

Vagina pillow.  Just in case you like to sleep with your head on some pussy.  The hole confuses me, though. Seriously.

I need to keep myself busier during the day, I think.

Feed the Beast.

Feed the beast (as found on UrbanDictionary): to send a high-maintenance partner a text message in order to keep them sweet and avoid them getting upset that you are ignoring them.

Similar to a feeding a tamagotchi, you send these texts to keep the relationship alive.

A: You coming to the pub mate? 

B: Yeah, of course. One minute though, I just gotta feed the beast first.


I do this with Mike.  I don't think feeding the beast is a bad thing and I will go way beyond texting in my efforts. I will feed that beast, stroke that beast, surprise that beast more than once a day with gratifications of an oral nature...whatever I need to do to keep that beast happy and our relationship alive.  Why?  Because I love him and he is a good man.  He deserves it.  This is not a one-sided gesture, either.  Oh, no.  He feeds my beast all the time.  
Even when he's tired and doesn't want too. :)


Take this weekend, for instance.  I am headed on a mini vacation with Sailor Girl and Young 'n' Sassy (I gotta come up with a better name).  There will be mountains.  There will be ocean.  There will be a drunk picture or two as well, I'm afraid.  The getaway is much needed and Mike was gracious enough to offer to watch the kids while I go.  He rocks my socks.  He is amazing and wonderful and everything that a man should be.


He taught me how to play Pai Gow poker a few weeks ago while his parents were in town for his oldest son's graduation.  His mom loves the game and he knew that we would be playing it at one point.  Since I'm not much of a gambler and I hate having to count to 21, it's pretty much perfect for me.  I can sit and drink for free, the game gets more fun the drunker you get, you can interact with other people, and if you can't tell what cards you have because you're seeing 14 of them instead of 7, the dealer and other players can actually help you.  I figure with my love of Asian food of all kinds, Buddha, giving massages with happy endings, and now Asian games, I'm that much closer to becoming an Asian.  Something tells me I won't get any complaints about that.  My next vehicle will be a drift car.  Or a rickshaw.  I haven't decided.


Things became more official with he and I over the weekend.  It was the next step in becoming officially official, say...in October of 2012.  It was a few months ahead of schedule, but what is a few months anyway?  I am happy about it, he is happy about it, the kids are happy about it.  It's all good.  It's even good when I start craving chocolate and become Medusa for a week or so every month, which in itself should seal the deal (that, and when he told me to think of all the tattoos I could get with the money we'd be saving).  Before we know it, this might be me!

I don't fucking think so.

This Animal is Domesticated.

I get excited about going home, popping open a bottle of wine, cooking dinner in the kitchen with Mike, getting on a treadmill, doing yoga in the living room, and sitting next to him on the couch while watching "So You Think You Can Dance".  He watches it with me and enjoys it.  Plus I get nice little kisses on the neck and lots of snuggles and shit.  This pretty much makes him amazingly awesome in my book.
Tonight, he is helping me make a middle eastern feast (which is going to be fucking fantastic) and we are making our own tahini and hummus in our food processor! It's sickening to a certain extent! As is my use of exclamation points!!

I am domestic.
And I love it.
All I'm missing is a really cute apron.  And maybe some khaki capris...and a mini-van with a soccer ball sticker on the back.  I'll just stick with the apron.

P.S. - I am totally disgusted with the lack of pictures of chickens in aprons on the internet. I'm supposed to be able to find anything on this bitch.

Alone Time - Chicken Style.

I think this song is sweet, but this video really glamourizes women's alone time.  Does he really think we drink, then slide down the hallway in our socks like Tom Cruise?  He did get a couple things right, though.  I totally paint my toes, especially since I bite my nails and there is also some extra-special alone time activity on occasion...if you catch my drift.  Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE for my nights to involve sinking into a bubble bath.  I'd have to have a bathtub for that, though.  (Note for to-do list: Get a house with a huge bathtub in the master bath)

I need alone time.  I always have.  When I was little, I used to stay up until the wee hours of the morning with all the books I owned laid out on my bed.  I'd read, I'd build things with them, I'd just spend some time in my head...not having to interact with anyone.  

Last night I had a little of that...except it kind of looked a little like this:

Fresh faced, nerdy, still bored, and still not sleepy.

Yep.  I take pictures of myself sometimes when I'm alone.  Gorgeous, right? I also stalk people on Facebook that I know.  Then I stalk people on Facebook that I sort of know but maybe am not friends with.  Then...I stalk people I don't even know.  If it gets to a point where you don't recognize anyone in the pictures you're looking at...it might be time to stop.  Just a word of advice.  What else do I do? Let's see....I drink beer, I eat things that are not necessarily good for me, I listen to girly music, I always think about reading but hardly ever do, I walk circles in my house bra-less, I look at my closet and tell myself I need to clean it out then I turn around and continue my aimless, bra-less, circles...

It's exciting stuff. It really is.  Sometimes girls just need time alone to do stupid girl stuff, without their man getting some weird look on their face like you're a crazy lunatic walking around with blue clay hardening on your face, half naked, and lost looking.  Mike is going to be moving in and around a lot more often than he already is.  It really doesn't freak me out as much as he thinks.  He is extremely understanding (when he wants to be) and I know I'll still get the time I need...even if I have to kick him out of the house and tell him to go play poker for a few hours.  Or, if he doesn't give it to me, maybe down the line I'll have a blog with pictures of him with clay on his face.  Either way, I win.

Hmmmm...THAT explains a lot.

I have determined tonight that I cannot watch porn and cook dinner at the same time.  I think that's going to be my new saying.  Like when people say, "I can't walk and chew gum at the same time".
"My goodness she gets distracted."
"Yeah...I don't think she could watch porn and cook at the same time!"  
So, how was I able to come to this conclusion, do you ask? Well...it's very simple really.  I was watching porn and trying to broil some veggie burgers. DUH.

Actually, it went a little something like this:
Last night, Mike and I were sitting at my kitchen table. The subject of porn came up while we were talking about the video on Tosh.0, appropriately named Stripper Soaker. He found it gross and I will admit, the only thing I thought of when I saw the video was that I wanted to see it without the body parts blacked out. (And wondered how she did that of course)  He told me that the first pornographic movie he ever saw was pretty graphic (there were fists involved).  So in turn I, not so reluctantly, confessed that I had watched my first porn when I was at the ripe old age of 11 or 12.  One that I found hidden in a box in a closet (thanks dad).  I was not disturbed at all.  I was quite intrigued.  I watched the whole thing and got my first ever feeling of: oh my god. why am I watching this? I can't look away. holy crap I hope someone doesn't walk in on me while this is on!  
I still remember the damn video.  It was from the 70's.  There was a lady that kept her freakin' neck scarf on while she did the nasty.  And she did the nasty with several men, including the standard black man with an afro and...her "niece".  There was not a lot of waxing that went on and all the boobs were real.  There was even some naked hot tubbing.  I googled today in an effort to make sure I had the name right and come to find out, this just wasn't some chick that kept her scarf on.  She was famous!  So...yeah.  I actually did find the video that I watched several times over the course of my pre-teen/teen years. And I watched it again, 20 years later. And I got entirely distracted, then burnt my veggie burgers.
Mike says that it explains a lot about some things.  I don't know what he's talking about.  I thought all women had an insane infatuation for men with mustaches, hairy chests, naked hot tubbing, and...fudgesicles.

Breathing Might Be Overrated, but Being Loved Is Not.

Mike and I are working on it.  The Sunday after our breakup, I had to go drop off some things to him and found myself not wanting to leave and thinking possibly that we were making a huge mistake.  That night I texted him that I wanted him to come over Monday night.  I think it was all part of a (somewhat) evil plan of his:
1. Make sure she's really sad and crying...A LOT. - check.
2. Tell her to come over. - check.
3. Tell her you don't want her to leave. - check.
4. Offer her your sleeve to blow her nose on and touch her face gently when you kiss her. - check.
5. Text her incessantly afterwards and tell her how much you love her. - check!
She's yours, dude. You got this. Go get her back!

Really, it wasn't like that (much)...the important thing is that we love each other and two people shouldn't be so miserable apart when they could work on it and stay together.  So, we're trying.
It's amazing the amount of unsolicited advice one gets when they are having troubles in the relationship department (not to be confused with the "Children's Department", which shuts down for brief periods every month...because my body is like a mall or something to my boyfriend, but we'll discuss that another time).  I got advice from friends, coworkers, my children, and a boy or two....including, but not limited to...
"But why, Mom??  You had happiness..."
"You know how you tell me that sometimes when friends spend too much time together, they start to get cranky and fight a lot? Maybe it's like that."
"If you think it's a mistake, go back to him."
"I don't know if I could deal with that. I plan on getting married, but when I do, I'm going to have my own residence."
"Honey, all men are needy."
"You can't change a person.  Love everything that is good about them, accept the things you don't necessarily like, and realize they are who they are.  If you are changing to try to suit a person or you are wanting to change THEM, something is wrong."

It came down to the fact that I was devastated and regardless of everything, I knew that I needed his love. It is quite possible that I would never again find someone that loves me like he does. For some reason, the Facts of Life theme song is running through my head.  "You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have..."
Mike got advice of his own, of which I am unaware...except for the anonymous person who commented on his blog that there would be another fried chicken stand to eat at.  Hmmmm.  Seems as though Mike's blog isn't the only one this person reads? (Hi there anonymous person! Thanks for reading my blog, too!)
Anyway.
Mike sent me a dozen long-stemmed roses today at work and we have a date tonight. Why? Because he loves me.  And I am his heart. And he doesn't want to eat at any other fried chicken stand.  This chicken is TASTY. Ask him...
I can also provide references, if necessary.

Fin.

I can't breathe and my heart feels like it is going to burst. I'm a blubbering mess who can't catch her breath; breathing is probably overrated, anyway.  It's one o'clock in the afternoon and I'm still in my pajamas, sitting on my bed surrounded by balled up, snotty bits of toilet paper.  It really isn't a pretty picture.  I'll have moments where I think I'm ok, I'll stop crying, I'll be able to take a deep breath, calm myself...but it only takes a split second of me remembering something, some insignificant little thing, and I'm right where I began.  Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle--it suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key.  It's not an act of bitterness.  It's an act if self-preservation, but this is only day one.  I should allow myself to feel this.  Eventually, I'll move on to thinking of things that were causing frustration,  that I thought I couldn't live with, to try to make myself better.  Even that may not work, because the sweet loving memories that will stab at my heart and make my eyes swell far outnumber the negative ones.  We talked this morning about the fact that what makes this even more sad is the fact that there is still love there.  It's not a bad breakup, with fighting, arguments, or ill will.  Something just wasn't right.  I couldn't look him in the eye last night and honestly tell him that this relationship was what I wanted.  I tried to hang on, but I ended up forcing it and made things worse.  Maybe he's right and one day, 6 months from now, I'll tell him that I was wrong and that I want to come back. 


For today, I'm glad I have a bottle of wine in my fridge.  I don't want to be the sad girl with the puffy eyes wandering around the grocery store, lost, scanning the aisles for something to numb the pain.  There is something so cliche about eating ice cream after a break up, but oddly enough, the thought had crossed my mind.  I have also just discovered my need for more toilet paper.  I guess I should have checked my supply before I started crying all over the place.  

Someone Please Tell Me Where the Fuck I Put My Friends.

When we start to change as people and lose touch with friends, what do you think we mourn for? The loss of important people in our lives or are we mourning for the loss of ourselves and the person we used to be?

I miss my friends.

Oddly enough, I was thinking about this on the way to work this morning.  I had a horrible headache and I was trying to get to work as quickly as possible, so I could get some water and Ibuprofen in me...when it dawned on me.  When is the last time I hung out with my friends??  I'm barely even on Facebook anymore.  It's like I have dropped off the face of the planet.  I realized many, many months ago that there are people that I am just naturally growing apart from.  Recently, though, I've lost touch with people that I didn't want to stop hanging out with.  I'm still trying to decide if I really am actually changing or if I'm just preoccupied in BoyfriendLand.

Then...low and behold...SailorGirl called me out on it this morning.  "We haven't been talking anymore Ms. IHaveABoyfriendNow..." Really? Did I become that girl?  Don't we ALL become that person, though, at some point?  When we are dating someone new, and especially if we really like them, we end up spending all our free time with them in the hopes of getting to know them better...and because we miss them when we are apart?  Or am I crazy? But she's right. I haven't been keeping in touch at all.  I didn't mean to ignore anyone.

I think I am really needing some socialization.  I do that.  It must be my Cancer tendencies...I retreat into my shell for awhile, until I'm ready to come back out again.  I'm in need of a girls' night. I am also in need of a tattoo session. Sailor Girl is going in for some work and I may go get a little something and spend some time with her...until my other tattoo buddy gets here.

Hurry up, Tattooed and Organic and get your ass out here!!  I miss you!

Slugbug Orange! or Holy Shit, I Can't Eat Another Bite or...You Got Powned!

Definition courtesy of Urban Dictionary
Pown: To display ones superior skill against an adversary by defeating them in a loud and obvious manner.
"I powned you, bitch! Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I AM A COUNTER-STRIKE GOD!!"

I learned this word from Adam, Mike's youngest son.  He's 13 and despite Mike's best effort, I totally fell in love with the word and used it incessantly, encouraging Adam to the fullest.  Oops.  I just discovered that it is a widely used term in the gaming world...go figure.

So, I just spent 3 days in Salt Lake City, UT (or SL,UT if you wish) and it was a much needed and much enjoyed break from my regular day to day existence.  The food fest trip began on Thursday night.  We took Greyhound, which wasn't that bad of an experience.  I didn't mind it other than I just don't sleep well on a freaking bus.  It took us about 8 hours.  I got to sit next to a lovely gentleman with a deep voice and a presence that gave me the willies.  No, it was not Mike.  He was seated comfortably behind me in his TWO seats.  Eh...it wasn't that big of a deal.  It happens when a shitload of people are on a bus together.  I can't blame him for wanting to sit next to my loveliness.
We arrived on Friday morning and had a full day of sightseeing and such.  First of all, my fucking camera died on Day 1, which totally blew and pissed me off, because I like to take pictures of EVERYTHING.  We went to Trolley Square and looked around the shops.  I found an amazing hand-hammered wok at Williams Sonoma for $19.95.  I'm getting that sucker this weekend.  I found other things in a novelty store that caught my eye that I'll be procuring on my next visit.  We then visited Gilgal Gardens, where my assumption that Mormons are odd was confirmed.  We drove The Avenues and looked at the historic homes in the area.  After picking up Adam from school, we headed to lunch, then to Big Cottonwood Canyon for a snowball fight.  The scenery was beautiful.  As many times as I have said that I couldn't live in a city with a lot of snow, I really enjoyed myself.  I liked the snow and the weather.  My opinion would probably change after months of being in the cold, I'm sure.  We also went out to dinner with Mike's parents.  Yes...I like them and we got along splendidly...even though Mike did mention to his mother my love of tubesteak.  No joke.  They make me laugh.  Mike, Adam, and I also went to Leatherby's after dinner for some ice cream.  Holy Shit, I couldn't eat another bite.  Until we went to breakfast the next morning, of course.
Saturday I woke up wanting a shower and just basically feeling like shit after all the food I had shoved down my throat the day before.  After a week of basically eating NOTHING to eating everything put in front of you, it can do a real number on your digestive system.  Truly.  We ventured back out for more sightseeing, with me showerless and with a rock or 10 in my stomach.  I was feeling dirty and like crap (or needing to take one), Mike could see that something was wrong, I didn't want to dwell on it (aka - talk about it at all).  We ended up having a...something.  I don't even know what to call it.  It really wasn't a fight, I guess, but feelings were hurt on both sides, we weren't getting along and I cried in a bathroom stall.  Things got better, so it's all good.  I took many a shit that day, we saw Temple Square and The Gateway, Adam purchased a hat that looked like a bear, I got my shower, then we had dinner with Mike's BFF.  No ice cream that night.  Thank you Baby Jesus.
Sunday the sky cleared and I was able to see the mountains.  We had a fantastic breakfast and drove out to see the lake.  Sunday was a relaxed day.  We had to say goodbye to Adam and get to the bus station for our ride home.  The ride back was much better than the ride there.  I had more room and slept a little. 
I'm looking forward to next time.

Mike said this trip was a learning experience and I have to agree.  First trips together always are.  I have more to write on this, but it will be from home instead of work.  My laptop is out of commission and I think I need the quiet of late-night writing...so whenever stupid Amazon will get me my charger...but I digress.

 

Mimosas: Not just for brunch anymore!

Buuuuurp.  There was a full bottle of champagne and OJ in my fridge just waiting to mate, in the hopes of making me a delicious beverage.  They succeeded.  I did not think ahead to the fact that I definitely need at least one other person to help me finish off this bottle.  As of 12am, I am not supposed to drink alcohol for a month.  I've done it before, without even realizing it, so I'm sure I will make it just fine.
New Years Eve (that's right Mike, I made it plural) has come and gone.  It was delightful.  Me, Mike, Alex (Mike's oldest), Little Man, and Mini-Me hung out at home.  We cooked food, played Guitar Hero, and watched the fireworks from the Strip at midnight.  The next day we went hiking near Lake Mead and the Hoover Dam.  My mom came along and a good time was had, even though what was supposed to be a 4.5 mile round trip hike turned into about 8 miles.
So, I have talked about how excited I am to begin a new year and it is so true.  I was inspired to make some changes with myself regarding how I spend my time and with who in 2010.  That conscious decision ended up leading me to Mike.  He is the kind of man that I had been searching for, but telling myself I would never find.  We've already started talking about our future together and I don't think anything has ever felt so right.  If I continue to make the right choices for myself and my family, who knows what other spectacular things will happen?   I plan on finding out this year.
In the spirit of 2011, here are 11 goals that I would like to accomplish this year.  Some are simple, some are life changing, and some are just things that I should have done or should be doing but have not for one reason or another.

1. Lose 80 lbs by the end of 2011
     I made the decision to complete a 28 day challenge, where I will basically cleanse my body of toxins and take steps to live a healthier life, mentally and physically.  It begins by cutting out dairy, red meat, eggs, alcohol, sugar, gluten, caffeine and all processed foods. Slowly, certain foods can be brought back in to my daily intake, should I choose to do so.  I will also go back to a daily exercise routine, which also includes yoga and meditation.  I wanted to do this because I felt the need to be healthier.  Weight loss is going to be an obvious side effect of this drastic change, so I made a goal of it.  I'm taking my goal 10 lbs at a time and rewarding myself with 8 lovely presents after I reach each one. (Mainly because I love gifts)
The only difference between this time and several years ago, when I did the same thing, will be that this time I will actually stay with the program.  All the crap that I have been putting into my body is literally bogging me down and making me feel like a pile of shit.  I'm over it.
2. Have family pictures taken
     I have never had them taken.  At first, it was because I didn't want to document a "family" that really wasn't.  The past few years that it's been just the kids and I, it has been plain procrastination.  I have found an amazing photographer and I'll have pictures taken of the kids and I this spring.  It has proven time to get this done, given that by the end of this year we'll be adding others into our group of three.  And then there were six.
3. Realize when I am procrastinating and actively take steps to correct it
4. Re-enroll and begin attending massage therapy school
     It's time to make the life I envisioned for myself a reality and get out of a fucking office.
5. Put money out of EVERY paycheck into savings.
6. Surround myself with positive people who enhance my life in some way.
7. Find my creativity again and begin a hobby that reflects it.
8. Commit to having at least one night of one-on-one time with my children every month.
9. Live out of my box.  Create adventure and conquer fear.
     "Say it a million times. Say it a million more times. Then the word that you will have said 2 million times is...YES!"  I am pretty good about trying new things.  There are certain things that I am not willing to do, such as go to Alaska and live in a bus in the wilderness, fighting for my survival (Never say "Never" though, right?)...I would just like to be a little more adventurous this year.  Going to school and taking steps to a better me are great starts, but I want to be able to say "WOW! I can't believe I just did that!" (and not in a regretful type of way).  My boss plans on skydiving for her 70th birthday.  Her adventure just happens to fall on the weekend of my birthday.  I am going to join her and jump out of a plane.
10.  Be more scheduled.
     I used to be very good at this and I still am to some extent, but I have been free-spirited lazy the past few years.  I think this is because I haven't been able to find a happy middle ground.  I am either completely OCD, drill sergeant structured or...I fly completely by the seat of my pants and take the "I'll get to it when I feel like it" approach.  This is something I need to work on.
11. Go to Color Me Mine and pick up the mugs that Mike and I painted, so I can have a memento of our first date together! What the eff!  It's been more than 2 months! (See goal #3)






     

Chickens Drink When They Cook.

Going back to work after a long holiday weekend has to be one of the most horrible things on the face of the planet. Not really, but it is beyond difficult for me to get excited about going back to the normal grind.


My weekend was extremely enjoyable and I think that makes it even harder to shift back into “work mode”. I have “modes”. Evidently, my shifting from one to the other is much more noticeable than I thought. Michael instantly recognizes my shifts, which is almost unnerving. I’m not sure if it makes me more uncomfortable that I wear my emotions so obviously on my face and in my mannerisms or that he has gotten to know me so well in such a short period of time. I take that back. It does not make me uncomfortable that Michael can read me so well. It, like most things he does, warms me from the inside out. We spent most of the weekend together, which like ending a holiday, makes it even more difficult to go back to our normal routine of not seeing each other for days at a time.

Our weekend began on Wednesday night. Michael and one of his sons stayed at my house until Friday morning. Our days together were filled with movies, enough sugar to kill several small children (except Mini-Me’s new friend…she’ll be mentioned in another blog), laughs, a cute little-girl crush, cooking, kisses, conversation, jokes, Nerf guns, my mother, and awesome pie. My mother loves Mike and his son. So much so that she left dinner early. What? Yes. That is what I said. She called me Friday morning to inform me of three things:

1. She had a wonderful time.

2. She left early because she wanted Mike and our families to have more time together. She was unaware that they were spending the night. (She didn’t bring it up at dinner, otherwise I would have told her)

3. She absolutely loves Mike and his son. I think it was the manners that got her. We Southern women are suckers for a “please, thank you, let me get that for you” kind of man. Both he and his son are like that. Oh, and don’t let me forget…"I’m not trying to get ahead of myself or anything, but WHEN you and Mike get married, I realized that both his sons names start with ‘A’, so when his sons become my grandsons, he’s not messing up anything! Isn’t that soooo cool?!” (Its tradition to name each generation of children with the same letter in my family. Both my kids are A’s as well)
OH MY GOD. Did she really just go there?? Did I hear her right?
Thanks mom. Next you’ll tell me that I’m not getting any younger.

I have such a whirlpool of thoughts swirling in my head that I may have to do a blog every day this week, devoting each day to a separate subject. Truly.
I hope everyone had just as much of an amazing weekend as I did. I didn't ruin dinner!  And I didn't get drunk (on Thursday)!  There was a child quote, but now I don’t remember what it was. It was fucking hilarious when I heard it and I told myself to remember it for my blog.  Oh well. I really need to be one of those annoying people that carry a notebook and write down their thoughts and interesting things they hear.

Time to slaughter some turkey, bitches!




Fuck yes! Doesn't he look excited?!  The kid, I mean...

 Yes, it's that time of year again.  Honestly, I can't believe it is already Thanksgiving and getting closer to Christmas everyday.  It may be freaking me out a little.  I am looking forward to many things on this holiday.  First, the long break - obviously.  This work week is only 2 1/2 days for me and I will enjoy the much needed days off to spend with friends and family.  Second, spending Thanksgiving with my mom and boyfriend.  I honestly can't remember how many years it has been since I have spent a Thanksgiving with my mother and having her in Las Vegas now is a great addition to this year's festivities.  Having Mike with us is as well.  He already got to meet my little absent minded mom briefly, not too long ago.  She likes him, he likes her, he likes my accent that magically appears when I talk to her...it will be fabulous.  Third, I will be making dinner this year.  I have not made Thanksgiving dinner for a group since I was with my ex and I am so looking forward to it.  I dreaded holidays with him and having my home bustling with people, feeding them and making them happy, is an amazing gift.  Warmth and love come to mind.  Too bad I don't have a real fireplace.  I had this vision of inviting everyone I knew that didn't have family and didn't have anywhere to go on Thanksgiving over to my house.  It is really a great idea and one year, when I have an actual house and not a small condo...I might just do that.  Or maybe I'll be ambitious next year.  I miss my domestic side.  Mike, poor thing, will get to see my OCD and need for control in full effect...but I guess it's good that we go ahead and get that out of the way.  I really rocked domesticity during the periods where I stayed home with the kids...when I wasn't fully depressed and in my pajamas all day. Heh.  Anyway...

In the spirit of Thanksgiving and conformity (since everyone else is doing it, too), I will list a few things that I am grateful for.  I tend to be an over-positive person and appreciate the little things, so I will try to stick to major things that I am thankful for this year and leave the little chipmunk that I see at work out of the mix.

My home and my job.  In this economy, I am so thankful that I was able to find this job with this group of amazing women.  It also led to me finally finding a home that I am so happy to be in...it is the first time that my kids have had their own rooms in forever and the first time that they have been in a place for more than 1 year since I don't remember when.  I am so glad that I am able to provide them with the stability they deserve.

Mine and my childrens' health. I don't think this needs any explanation.

Mike.  He showed up as Mr. Amazing, out of the blue, just when I was starting to think that there might not be a person in my near future that was meant just for me.  I never really understood that whole "he's my other half" soul mate stuff or when people talk about having an empty space inside or missing pieces or something.  I told myself it was total crap, but hoped that it wasn't every time I felt alone. Then he hugged me, took me to paint pottery, and fit himself right into my puzzle.  I don't think I will ever be the same.

My truck.  It is a beast of a vehicle.  It is ugly (in my eyes, it has character).  It is the most awesome truck ever.  It has given me no problems this year what-so-ever, no matter how much I beat it up and use the shit out of it.  I love that truck.  I am keeping my promise to give her the love and attention she deserves when I get my tax return next year.  Mama's gonna fix that body and make her all pretty again, I swear!

My friends.  That includes the ones that may have come into my life and left again, for whatever reason.  I am an accumulation of everyone that has crossed my path and if they are no longer around me, then hopefully I took away with me the lessons that I was supposed to learn.  But to all my constant friends, I love you.  Some of you I have known for years, but I feel like none of my friendships have blossomed more than they have in the last two years.  You guys make me laugh and my life wouldn't be the same without you.  I still am not sure how I ended up being labeled the wild one (ok. that's a flat-out lie.)  I think it's their fault.  Hehehe.

My mother.  Words cannot express how utterly fantastic it is to have her around.  We spend time together on a weekly basis and I am so glad that she is finding her niche in this city.  She is allowing me the gift of having family around and she is also allowing me to create a life for myself, as an individual, by graciously spending time with the kids when I need it.  We continue to build our mother/daughter relationship and I am thankful that she made the decision to move closer to me.

I think I may just leave it at that.  Those are very generic things to be thankful for, but for very good reasons.  I could have been creative and said vibrators, because beer-drinking Jesus knows that I have gotten good use out of those this year.  Or PBR, booty calls, Red Handed Tattoo Gallery, Facebook, men in general...
But I'm keepin' it clean.  Sort of.  Enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday!  Eat lots of dead animals, mass amounts of pie, get drunk with your family (whether it is for fun or just so you can stand being around them), enjoy your day off, and go topless at least once.  It's an order.  And send good vibes my way that I won't ruin Thanksgiving dinner. (hahaha. i said "vibes")

This one time, I was naked...

I got on Blogger the other day to obsessively check my stats (my page that tells me how many views I'm getting on my blog) and realized 2 things:

A.  I have had over 1,000 total views of my blog since I started it in what, August?  I am amazed!  Thank you.  I realize that some of these are people who may have been searching for a really great place to eat fried chicken in Las Vegas and my blog popped up on their Google search, but who cares?  I have a few loyal followers whom I appreciate very much and it completely supports my narcissistic side that everyone is so interested in the daily goings-on of my whimsical existence.

B.  I haven't written a blog in 10 days.  10 days?!  I am usually good for at least 2 a week!  I haven't quite gotten over my writer's block, I think.  Or it could be that my blog is usually an outlet for me to vent about things and I just haven't felt the need to.  Don't worry...I'm not going to go into some talk about how I can't stop thinking about Michael and how my life has become this cutesy, euphoric state of hearts and sparklies and rainbows....

Oh man, I miss him and his glorious sweet self....but I digress...

I have been told that I need to stick to funny today, so I shall.  My young friend, who I will call Sassy, said she wanted less of the falling in love crap and more of the meeting neighbors naked stuff.  Which led me to remember that I had mentioned that whole situation briefly in passing and never actually told the whole story.  I don't really even know if this story is funny anymore, honestly.  Gosh...I think it was the last time C2 and I actually spent time together...I think.  My mind is totally clouded with Michael. (I know. I can't stop talking about him.)  I had a night to myself and had gone over to C2's house for some drinks and topless swimming.  He has a large backyard with a pool and what I thought were non-nosey, non-existent neighbors.  I arrive, put on my swimsuit bottoms, parade right into the backyard (while C2 was making me a margarita) and dive into the pool.  Ahhhhhh.....I love swimming...I adore topless swimming.  I pop my head up and open my eyes, at which time I'm greeted by his neighbor popping his head over the back wall and watching me!  I was slightly taken aback!  I'm treading water in the middle of the pool, crossing my arms over my chest, as he introduces himself.  His name is Manny.  He asks me if I just bought the house and how much I paid for it.  I said it was my friend's house, that yes, it was a foreclosure...
"You're not topless, are you??"
Ummmmm....what do I say, here?  I should have said yes.  I know that now.  He probably would have left me alone.  I told him no. LOL.  He apologized for popping his head over and went back to his side of the wall.  I swam over to the side of the pool and was processing the whole thing, when, hello! Manny pops his head back over....
to introduce me to his friend.
I can imagine the conversation that went on in those 2 measly minutes.
"Dude. It was a chick in the pool and she's totally topless."
"No way!"
"Yes! Come look!"
"Are you fucking with me, man?"
"No! I swear! I met her!"
Luckily, I was still against the side of the pool, but at this point I pretty much said fuck it.  I had my arms out of the pool, hanging on the side, and carried on a nice conversation with the guys.  By the end, I had an open invitation to his house...he lives alone in that big house (he managed to work that into the conversation like 4 times).  And if I ever need absolutely anything...I can come to him.  Topless, of course.
They left, C2 came out with my drink, and I told him what happened.  I probably should have gotten out of the pool and gone over to Manny's house.  They enjoyed my toplessness, were much cuter than C2, and weren't complete assholes.  Oh well.

In a complicated twist today, I got a text from C1's wife.  All it said was "Hello".  On all days, it has to be the day that my phone isn't working because I haven't paid my bill.  This means that, strangely, I can get texts, but can't respond.  It seems like a cruel joke being played on me by the universe.  I knew I should have gone at lunch and made my payment.  What the hell does SHE want?  I don't know if I should even answer her.

So, tomorrow night I have Sailor Girl's birthday party to go to.  That should provide at least 1 or 2 good stories.  We also have Thanksgiving coming up next week...that's exciting.  Mike is meeting my mom for the first time, we're being all domestic and cooking dinner together, and I'm sure there will be a good kid quote in the mix somewhere.  Kid's faces say so much...especially the mouth part of the face. 
Updates to come soon, I assure you.

Cheap wine does wonders for writer's block.

Unfortunately, I don't have any, so I have been blocked.  I can't get the words out.  If I do somehow get words out, they don't sound right or it isn't exactly what I wanted to say.  Tonight I was able to tell someone exactly what they needed to hear.  "Regardless of where you are supposed to end up, where you are right now is exactly where you are supposed to be...for one reason or another".  Or something to that extent.  Astonishingly enough, these were the words that I have been trying to find for days.
This is exactly where I am supposed to be.
More importantly, This is exactly WHO I am supposed to be WITH.
I came to this realization days and days ago (I realize things way before I act on them).  There was another party that was slightly interested in getting to know me (other than Mr. Amazing).  I didn't mention him because (not to be rude), he was insignificant.  We began talking around the time that I met Mr. Amazing.  I never made the time to get to know him.  I didn't want to.  I was even honest and told him this.  He wanted to meet and I said I couldn't talk to him anymore - that I was dating someone else and ready to stop looking.  I couldn't believe those words came out of my mouth (Actually, I typed them out. I had never even made the time to talk to this guy on the phone!)  This chicken, for the last two years, has had in the back of her mind that there is something better coming.  That whomever I was with wasn't it...that they were only stepping stones to someone else. Sorry guys.  Have you ever seen the movie "Practical Magic"? If you haven't, then I may dis-own you.  In the movie, Sally writes out a spell protecting herself from finding love.  She creates a list of traits for her perfect person, knowing that it is impossible that this person could ever exist.  I did this.  Not literally, but I was beginning to think that the kind of man I truly wanted (which seemed to be an impossible list of traits) didn't exist - that I would have to settle for just somebody or be alone forever.  In the end of the movie, of course the man she dreamt up when she was a child does really exist, he breaks the curse on her family, and she knows happiness like she never thought possible.
Michael (Mr. Amazing) is creating a happiness for me that I never thought possible.  I feel lit up from the inside when I am near him or when I hear his voice.  Something physically changes in me.  I cannot stop smiling.  I laugh like only my sister can make me laugh.  Yes, it is still new and we are still learning about one another...but something in me knows this is right.  I still ask myself how I found him, why he was brought to me, why? why? why?...in a series of questions that can't be explained, except for this reason only...that it was supposed to happen.  I am where I am supposed to be with who I am supposed to be with.
So, now I am in a relationship.  Mr. Amazing is my boyfriend.  I like the name Michael better.  It rolls off my tongue.  I will probably use both names.  This may mean that this blog may take a bit of a turn, but that doesn't mean much.  This may mean that I have delayed my spinsterhood a few years, but who knows.  I am living in the now.  Now is with Michael, who is still "wooing" me.  Who had wine and lit candles in his bedroom after our date on Saturday.  Who made me breakfast and thanked me for letting him take care of me.
I won't be the girl who just makes out a huge list of why her man is perfect in every way (#1: We should change his name to Mr. Does Amazing Things With His Hands).  I am tired, getting blocked up again, and feel like I am not making my point.  I had other things I wanted to talk about, but that shall become Part Two or a separate blog all together.  I promise I have other things going on and I can think of things to talk about other than a man.  I swear.  I am starting to believe that late night, half asleep babbling that could be slightly mistaken for writing is a bit like writing drunk.

Halloween and Other Treats: A Weekend of Goofy Grins

I don't know where to begin when talking about my weekend.  I feel like I celebrated Halloween for an entire week and I'm quite over the holiday now.  I'm surrounded by Halloween decorations at work and I don't have that usual feeling that I get of wanting to stretch out the merriment as long as possible.  Not to say that I didn't have a good Halloween...I had a great one.  I'm just ready to move on to what's next.  We're in that part of the year when the last few months fly by; Thanksgiving will be here in a few weeks, then shortly after Christmas and New Year's Eve.  I feel like I should reflect, but we'll do that in another blog during the months to come.

My weekend began on Thursday with a visit to Mr. Amazing's home.  We had a movie date that both of us were extremely excited about and it was practically perfect, just as he is turning out to be.  I arrived right after work and he had my favorite bottle of wine waiting (he scored MAJOR points with that).  We talked comfortably as usual, ordered food from an excellent Mediterranean restaurant (shish kabob and hummus. yum.), and watched Paranormal Activity (because I had never seen it).  It came time for me to go and I didn't want to leave (I find myself feeling that way every time I'm around him now, which was several times this weekend), but I had to relieve my mother of her babysitting duties.  Friday, we made plans to go to the drive-in to see a double feature of PA2 and Devil.  We camped out with sleeping bags and blankets in the bed of my truck, watching movies, then making out like teenagers.  I forgot what fun it was to see a movie and not be able to really explain or remember what any of it was about.  We stayed until the end of the second showing of PA2, which had me back at his place at about 1:30am.  I left at 9am, again, only because my mother had so graciously watched the kids and I felt bad for leaving her there all night.  I was actually worried she would be mad, but I got home and my house was clean, she probed like mothers do, then told me she was glad that I am happy.  (The irresponsible part of me had wished I'd stayed a little longer at Mr. Amazing's)  He has mentioned in his blog that he can't explain the smile that I give him.  I had the same issue with explaining just the way he makes me feel, until I was on my way home Saturday morning.  It was a beautiful fall morning, the sun was shining, I had barely any sleep, and I couldn't stop smiling.  I don't think he could be any sweeter or more of a gentleman...he is a good man...and he makes me feel ADORED.  That is the word.  Even if he actually doesn't adore me (yet), he makes me feel like I am and it is wonderful.  He came over last night and stayed at my place.  We still have not had sex (ok...there hasn't been "intercourse") and I am ok with that.  Most of my relationships start hot and heavy right from the beginning, but they fizzle out faster than they started it seems.  Slow is good.  A fire that starts as a smolder and grows slowly in intensity is the kind of fire that lasts for a while.  The kind that warms your entire body down to the core...

The rest of my weekend was spent with the kids, hanging out and enjoying the holiday.  We watched a marathon of Ghost Adventures on Saturday night and yesterday we had a lazy day, prepping for the trick-or-treating that was to come later in the evening.  I was a witch, Autumn was a vampire, and Anthony was a "dead scientist that had gotten blown up during an experiment".  That kid is always so detailed with his descriptions.  Anthony had mentioned wanting to go trick-or-treating with his friends this year.  I think I have permanently lost him for Halloween from now on.  His friend came to pick him up early in the evening and he went with that family and a bunch of other boys.  Autumn and I had a great time, though.  We got dressed, waited somewhat patiently for the sun to set, then headed out.  We walked down the street to a neighborhood that was almost completely dead, but we ended up getting a great tip on another neighborhood that really gets into its Halloween festivities.  We drove over, walked around, Autumn was having an amazing time, and was frankly hilarious.  She has my sense of humor, what can I say.  There was a street party going on with a haunted house and a mad doctor that was giving out beer to the parents and candy to the kids.  We finished early, with enough time to get her showered and ready for bed before Mr. Amazing came over.  Anthony ended up spending the night with his friends.  Luckily, I think I have a few more years of hanging with Autumn before she too would rather be with buddies than with mom.  I'll take it while I can.  This morning while I was in the shower, she woke up, sifted through her candy, and laid out a pile of my favorites on my bed.  It came with a little note that read, "Hope you in joy. From: Autumn".  Sweetness.

Thought Stew: Simmering Bits of Randomness

I woke up wanting to write this morning.  I feel like I've lost steam lately and my blogs have been mediocre at best.  Here are some chunky bits that have been simmering in the cauldron of my mind:

Warning: The following subject matter may be uncomfortable for certain male subjects.  "Girly Talk" in progress.
There is a reason that Brazilian waxes are called Brazilians - in my case it is because I would literally be getting rid of a rain forest in said area.  You can tell how much a woman (mainly of the single variety) is having sex by how well she is groomed.  Not only just having sex, but thinking about sex.  I change my opinion...this goes for all women, as I am not just talking about the bikini area.  If a woman, married or not, has not shaved her legs or has thought to herself, "well...I could probably go one more day without shaving under my arms...nobody is going to see anyway", she is not even remotely thinking about getting laid.  There is also something about the chill in the air and the beginning of pants season that brings this on as well, I think.  I was having a little time with myself last night (yes. I mean masturbating. everyone does it and if they don't, then they should.) and I was like, "what the fuuuuuck!".  How did I not notice that this was going on?  Have I been that distracted?  When was the last time I actually took the time to make sure I was all pretty and stuff down there?  When was the last time I thought about sex??  I can probably reference my blog or my Facebook page to answer that question, but seriously....the term "out of control" comes to mind.  Let's just say I took care of the situation, in more ways than one.  Speaking of Brazilian waxes, I've always wanted to get one.  There is a place near my work and my home called The Pretty Kitty...I just love that name.  If I can get a tattoo, I can certainly handle hot wax in my genital area.  I think.

Next subject.

This picture freaks me out a little.  I love it.  I hate that holidays are so commercialized now.  Why can't we go back to this kind of Halloween?  Where scary was the point, not dressing up as a fucking Power Ranger or Hannah Montana!  These kids would scare the shit out of me if they came to my door for candy.
I was also reminded by Mr. Amazing that Christmas is around the corner, while we were speaking of commercialized celebrations.  Thank you, Mr. Amazing.  Thoughtful gifts are what I am all about, not how much things cost.  I am not very materialistic by nature either, so it pains me when my kids make out Christmas lists that include ridiculously expensive things.  I have no problem bringing their little heads out of the clouds and telling them there is no fucking way they are getting every single game system, video game, Ipod, computer, really cool toy that does a million things that they will play with for a week then throw into the bottom of their closet with the rest of the crap they've ever gotten on that outrageous list.  Be glad I am not knitting you homemade sweaters (which I would totally do if I could knit) and giving you stockings full of granola and certificates stating that there is now a star with your name on it.  Lets just go look at some really cool lights on a stranger's house and call it a great day, ok?  And no, I'm not putting the "Christ" back in Christmas.  (Holy shit.  Maybe I should change my name to Scrooge.)  We'll save this rant for December.

Speaking of Mr. Amazing, we have a little movie date tomorrow, which I am ecstatic about.  A scary movie and some snuggling on the couch? Perfection.  We talked last night on the phone and I still find it great that for two introverts, we sure do find a lot to talk about with each other.  He makes me smile.  I read his blog and I am inspired.  Yet he calls me Muse.  Oh...and he already said that he is my bitch.  Score!  He better be glad I am not a girl that will completely take advantage of that (I only will a little).

Lastly, the hammer has come down at work.  We are no longer allowed to Facebook, play games, etc while at work.  This also includes blogging, I'm sure.  Sssshhhh...don't tell anyone.  I have to fight the boredom somehow!  It hasn't been a huge issue yet, but I'm sure it will become one.  I have been piggybacking off my neighbor's wireless and all of a sudden it is secured again.  Now that I am without internet at home (unless I break down and buy my own, but who wants to do that?) and I am not able to go on Facebook at work, major withdrawals will ensue.  I also received, in a addition to the mass email that was sent to everyone, my own little personal email regarding tattoos in the workplace.  All of a sudden, they aren't ok.  My clothing and style needs to be more "work appropriate" and cover my ink.  I sooo wanted to tell them to fuck off, but as they ("they" being "the man") so eloquently put it, there are plenty of people out there that will gladly do whatever the fuck the bosses want and conform as much as necessary just to have a job.  School beckons.  It is screaming for me to come back.  I need to get over my fear of rejection and just email the counselor to ask if they will have me.  The worst thing that would happen is that I would have to go to a different (less adequate) school...which I really don't want to do.  I want to go to one of the best ones in the country, dammit.  Regret #1,341: Dropping out of school last year.  I will make it right, go back, work for myself, heal people, teach people how to heal others, and get as many tattoos as I damn well please.  The End.

I need to change for you to like me? You can kiss my chicken ass.

At first my feelings were fucking hurt, but now I'm mad (honestly, I still feel a little like crap...but more mad than anything).
I knew something was up with C2.  He hasn't been coming to town, our emails/IMs have been sparse...and when we did talk, the conversation was lacking.  This is my fault (so I've been told).  He was testing me.  What the hell is up with all the tests lately??  We were IMing last night.  We got into a conversation about social interactions, which I now believe I was led into.  Towards what became the end of the conversation, he said, "I don't think I turn you on".  That came out of nowhere, I thought to myself.  I couldn't lie, though...it's the truth.  I don't think of him and get all crazy excited in my nether regions and I never have.  In fact, I have always felt slightly uncomfortable around him...now I realize it is because my sub-conscious picked up on the fact that this entire time he has been judging me.  He told me that I am too submissive and not "take charge" enough.  I don't initiate conversation.  I let him bring up a subject, then agree or disagree.  "This is our relationship", he said.  The only compliment he ever gave me was that I was a good lover (but apparently not good enough) and that I am smart (but I don't use it).  It was like a bad yearly review at a job.  Harsh mentions of my weaknesses intermingled with slight compliments.

Then he said he wanted to change me.

This was pretty much my expression.


He said that he has actively been trying to change me, but that it didn't look like I was ready to.  Like the fact that I am a quiet person is a horrible thing to be.  I'm sorry that I don't want to philosophize about life and the universe.  I want to do fun things.  And by the way...what the fuck makes you so great that I need to change my entire personality just to make you happy and able to stand being around me (he said that I had been getting on his nerves lately)?!  Nothing.  C2 is not that amazing.  He doesn't love me, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with me...he just wants us to be more compatible in bed.  Which isn't going to happen if I am not attracted to him like I thought I would be anyway.  He doesn't even like to kiss!!!!  Why?  Because it is too intimate and emotional.  What?! 
I didn't go over all the things about him that I didn't like, but was overlooking...hoping that at some point he would make me feel comfortable.  We are just not compatible as a couple.  Now that I know how he feels about me...I don't know if we're compatible as friends, either.  Who wants to be worried the entire time they are with someone about whether or not you're "good enough".  Life is way too short.  I saw a line in a book once, where a character says, "I've given guys blow jobs because I've run out of things to say."  This cracks me the fuck up.  Obviously that isn't working with C2 and I anymore.  C'est la vie says the chicken.

I told him there are plenty of people in this world that like me just the way I am.



I used to think my life was like a soap opera...

Maybe it's more like a romantic comedy of errors.  Or maybe like one of those Lifetime movies that you can't stop watching, no matter how bad the acting is.  Either way, there were some interesting developments in my happenings over the past week or so.

First of all, I had a really crappy week last week.  Not for any reason in particular, I was just in a mood.  I was in this state of melancholy that I just could not escape from.  I really think that had I not had my tattoo appointment Saturday night, I might not have left my home at all over the weekend.  Or gotten out of my pajamas, for that matter.  But anyway, I sent C2 a note last week (I don't remember what day).  It had been a while since I had talked to him and I wanted to see how he was doing.  He was evidently in a mood as well.  He told me that he was not coming out this weekend and that he was just not happy...but that it wasn't my fault.  At first, I was just assuming that he believed that this chicken was the kind that thought everything was her fault.  I wasn't worried at the time, but now, I'm not so sure.  I thought he just wanted to be left alone (some people are like that after all).  I gave him a couple of days, then sent him another message on Friday night...I vented a little...I was feeling low and was wishing that he was in town...I was missing him.  I got no response.  At all.  All weekend.  In fact, he has been online so little the past week (almost two), that I had to make sure he hadn't deleted me.  Of course now, I am that girly chicken..."Is he not interested anymore?", "Did I really actually piss him off and he is not ready to talk about it?", "Is he mad that I made a comment in my blog about not feeling like I have anything in common with ANYONE?", "Or is he mad that I talked about sleeping with E?".  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  I didn't think we were at that point in all of this...we haven't even really had a conversation about "us".  I guess I just have to feel this one out.  I'll have to bring it up.  It makes me nervous.  So, basically in the span of two weeks, I went from all kinds of men to no men. 
To top things off, work has become a mess of childish, woman drama.  This is why I don't hang out with girls.  Caddy talk-behind-each-other's-back shit is ridiculous.  Really.  A manager got let go.  Now everyone is kissing the boss' ass and throwing other people under the bus to save their jobs.  A little birdie told me that I was next.  There are too many little birdies flying around this place.  Yes, I still associate with that manager who you say fucked you over (or whatever).  I don't give a crap.  This job is a paycheck.  End of story.  I don't like to get involved with inter-office drama and I certainly don't like to kiss ass.  I suppose I'll have to, though.  Appease the Queen.  Everyone else does.  I need to go back to school and work for myself.

After spending half of last week thinking that I was going to get canned, worrying about whether I had unintentionally hurt C2, and paying bills and all the other crap I need to deal with...I went to my appointment at the shop.  I am so happy I did.  I hung out with the guys, had some beers, got my tattoo, and all was well. Getting the tattoo was interesting.  He had me lay down flat, then said, "Ok, this is not going to work.  You're too busty.  Can you hold your boobs down?" We then spent about 10-15 minutes figuring out a way I could sit so my boobs wouldn't be in my chin.  He MacGyvered the chair, then everyone came in to get a peek at my busty-ness (ahem...I mean the tattoo in progress).  I stayed after for a bit and had a great time.  I really do need to make the effort to kick it with them more often...they're good people and I keep saying I need to make different friends.

I also had to put in a distress call to C3 this weekend.  We don't see each other, but I care about him, so I check in on him.  He also makes a good listener and voice of reason sometimes.  I was freaked out and he was the only person that could help me.  In all these happenings, I had once again been hit on by a married man.  What is it with me??!!  He blatantly hit on me when we were alone, asking if I wanted to "get together" sometime...that he really wanted to spend time with me.  I was seriously starting to believe that something was wrong with me for attracting men like this.  C3 thinks it's hilarious (he's one of the perpetrators).  He says that I project a very "open" personality and that men can tell I like the danger and excitement of the whole situation.  Hmmm. Ok. Obviously, these guys are thinking they can get something from me that their wives aren't giving them...otherwise they wouldn't feel the need to stray.  Obviously, I'm so much of a ho-bag that I don't even recognize my ho-baggy behaviors!  I have yet to get a good answer from C3.  His wife must have been around (lmao).  Maybe I just have no morals.  I am cursed when it comes to men.  They are never just normal...I guess nobody is, though.  Normal doesn't really exist.  I am just going to say married guy was a little drunk and I was the only person with a vagina around.  We'll see what the awkwardness level is like next time I see him.  Yes, our paths will cross again.

To top my weekend off, I got the random call from the ex, crying, saying "I love you so much and I always will."  Sheesh, he's got issues!  He didn't even ask to speak to his kids.

That was my bit of interesting nothingness.  We'll see how interesting my life is without a steady man in it.  Somehow, I think I'll find some kind of trouble to get into.  I always do.

Spinsters are people too.

Spinster:  an unmarried woman and especially one past the common age for marrying; a woman who seems unlikely to marry

This will be me someday.  Isn't she lovely?

I probably will end up a spinster.  I came to this realization last week as I talked to my sister on the phone. She is younger than me and getting married...for the second time.  I have yet to be married (although I was in a 10 year relationship) and have not yet even come close to finding my so-called soul mate.  That's ok!  Spinsters are cool people.  My mom moved in to the guest house of an extremely interesting woman.  She can't necessarily be classified as a spinster, because she was at one time married.  I don't know for how long.  She told my mother that she got divorced, then "danced and dated" her life away until she was 70.  I wouldn't mind doing that; I'm already on the right path.  I bet Ms. Millie (that's her name) has awesome stories to tell.  I will too.  I suspect that I shall be a little crazy though...but that's just my opinion.  I'll be the interesting old lady sitting on her back porch with a stiff drink and a cigarette, asking the "young ones" to come sit and chat with me.

"Did I ever tell you youngsters about the time I was swimming topless in my lover's pool and his neighbor decided to say hello?  NO?  Well listen to this..."  I'll be a vulgar wrinkled woman...just like the picture.

I hung out with Sailor Girl yesterday.  Good times.  During our conversations about relationships, I realized that I am totally not with the right kind of men.  And I mean right in the sense of not really having a lot in common.  Don't get me wrong, there are small things...and I think it's very interesting that none of the men that I'm with really have tattoos and are not interested in getting them, but like me anyway.  That says a lot about them...or it says something about me...I am not defined by what I put on my body; I'm more than that.  Deep down, though, I want to feel similar to my partner.  I want to be interested in the same things.  I don't feel like I have found that person yet.  I may never find that person. "He/She's got to be out there", this is what goes through all single person's minds.  It goes through mine.  I believe that there is a tattooed, hard on the outside but soft on the inside man who likes music, reading, art, doing new things, and enjoying life.  He is somewhat financially stable, definitely emotionally stable, is not afraid that I have kids and wants to interact with them, has a vehicle, and loves me for exactly who I am.  Oh! And has a sense of style!  It can be quirky, it can be just vintage tees and jeans, but please dress cute.  Hmmmm...I could go on with that list.  Maybe he doesn't exist after all.  This one thing is sure:  I will have fun trying to find him.

Random thought:  Isn't it great to wake up happy?  I woke up in one of those moods today, feeling like I'm going to be productive, I love my life, everything is going to be ok...

I love days like that.

Bite me. Don't mind the bitter taste...I swear I'm sweet on the inside.

Ugh.  My heart hurts.  It could be the free pizza I had for lunch, but it's most likely the results of my daily stalking.  That's right.  I'm a Facebook stalker.  I readily admit it.  Breaking up does not make this compulsion stop.  I have been frequenting C1's wall since the breakup, even though he deleted me as a friend.  I was also checking out the comments he was leaving on other people's walls/statuses...it's what I do.  There had been little activity until today.  I actually found myself worrying about him, wondering if he was completely heartbroken...
I guess I don't need to worry about that.  Seems as though he might have already moved on...or, given his lifestyle, had started moving on before we broke up.  I was wondering why that fucking chick that I didn't want to be friends with in the first place (he "suggested" that she befriend me) deleted me at practically the same time he did.  And she's got a cute little picture as her profile pic...a man and woman's legs wrapped around each other with the words "Luvin U" on it.  How cute.  That's the kind of shit that C1 and I did when we were being loving.  She also is friends with C1's wife, evidently.  They should all be happy together.  C1 likes his women needy and preferably with some sort of health problem.  It makes them dependent on him.  He likes to "take care of" his women...meaning, he likes to baby them.  Plus, them being a little different makes him not feel so weird, I'm sure.  He's not so normal either.  So...him, the woman with mental disorders, the woman with MS, and the woman who lives in another country and is also a virgin...that's the stuff that "B" rated movies are made of right there people!  Thank you, but I'll wait for it to come out on video.

Which really brings me to the topic of my blog:  BITTERNESS
I had the idea to write about the stages of grief yesterday, while I was rocking out to Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know".  It's the quintesential break up song, isn't it?  My favorite part is "when someone runs their nails all down my back I hope you feel it..." or whatever the fuck she says.  We all know the line and I don't really feel like looking up the exact lyrics.  So, my research on the stages of grief led me to a website, where there was an article on the 6 Stages of A Breakup.  It hit home in a big way.  These are the stages that were listed:

Stage One and Stage Two are unimportant.  If you want the breakdown of these, go read the article.  It's humorous.  I've passed these stages and they happen before the actual breakup, so I'm skipping them.

Stage Three: The Crappy Part
This explains itself.  It's the part where you feel like your life is over.  This stage is marked by extensive crying, listening to songs that remind you of your ex, sleeping with things that smell like them, and wondering how the hell your life is supposed to go on.  Let's see...C1 broke up with me on Sunday night...this stage lasted exactly 3 days for me.  I think they kind of melt into each other actually, these stages.  I still feel a twinge of sadness when I hear something or see something that reminds me of him.  I'm a loser.

Stage Four: The Rage
I realized yesterday I was in this stage.  Alanis helped me with that.  "If they don't want to be with me, then that's their problem."  That is this stage's motto.  "Fucking bastard!". That's another.  I honestly thought that I had started to emerge from this bitter state of being this morning when I woke up.  Until I saw that he was happy.  He's supposed to be devastated...wtf?!

Stage Five: The Crush
The realization that your ex isn't the only one in the world.  I already knew this and I think that was one of our biggest problems. (I'm laughing..because it's true)  I'm having the amazing E over this weekend.  I stopped sleeping with him out of loyalty to C1...he was downright jealous (and had reason to be. C1 will never match up to E in the bedroom department).  So let's just say that I have plans to make my way into this stage this weekend...over and over and over again.

Stage Six: FREEDOM
Moving completely the fuck on.
I started this stage just before beginning this blog.  I blocked C1, his loco wife, his new sick girlfriend, and the wife's/C1's virginal girlfriend on Facebook.  This was for my benefit, although they might see it as a hateful act.  When they are blocked, it keeps me from obsessing and going on their pages.  It's a coping mechanism.

Plus, he always has this blog if he feels the need to check in on me.  I hope he finds happiness in all that complicated mess that he seems to thrive on (see...I told you I was sweet on the inside).  But in the spirit of bitterness, I'll leave with this:

To the girls:  That thing he's asking you to do in the bedroom that you've never done before, it's probably because I did it.  And he'll be thinking about me the whole time.
To C1:  I found a website today that you'd be interested in.  Buy your own stuff...that thing that your wife picked out for you was butt ugly.  And stop being afraid of being who you are.  Stop worrying about consequences to telling your family and others about how you live your life, what you like, and the multiple love interests you keep.  You're a fucking adult.  Honestly, what's the worst that would happen??  They might stop supporting your wife and she'd have to get a real job?  Bummer.