Out of nowhere

A friend from my past suddenly appeared on my screen last night. Someone who has always held a very deep place in my heart and not for obvious reasons. He is someone I met at a turning point in my life and provided a lot of support when I needed it most.

Rrrr has one of the most comforting voices I know. His voice alone would assure me things would be ok. Granted, we met at turning points in both our lives when life seemed most complicated. Still, there was a comfort knowing someone was out there (thinking of me, worrying about me, and feeling the same pains in life and love) made my very existence better.

Rrrr is romantic dreamer. He was a big influence to me, always made me think a little deeper and realize the many passions in our lives. He encouraged me to explore them and not to always let the easy or practical roads lead us away from our true happiness. I learned I have many passions that should be expressed, not hidden away from the light of day. As I climb out of this shell and explore, I tend to be more true to myself, able to express myself without doubt or worry and gain appreciation, support, and love.

Rrrr has one of those devilish smiles when he is up to no good, just the thought of it makes me laugh. Laugh at the good times and the trouble the two of us could/can get ourselves into...and probably still could, should our paths cross more often.

Rrrr, also, shows an enormous amount of concern for the mental and the physical being. He reminds me both need to be taken care of. He was dead right when he encouraged me to work out, eat well, and sleep. It is amazing how when you take care of the physical, the mental improves too.

These are just a few of the great memories and lessons Rrrr has given me. Hopefully, they will continue. Hearing from him definitely let me end my day with a smile filled with lots of great memories. Too bad all days cannot end that way.

Trading Mud for Tears

My sister called me Monday morning. My Schnoodle, Guinness, is living with her at the moment. I was a little concerned when I saw her name on the caller ID and even more concerned when I heard her exasperated, "Hello".

Meags: I lost your dog
me: It is OK. What happened? and how long has he been gone? (thinking to myself of how to best handle the situation when I was already late for work)
Meags: but I went looking for him and found him
me: OK, are you alright? is he OK?
Meags: Yeah, but he put me through hell and I was supposed to be taking Abby (our cousin) to school, so Mom had to do it. She didn't want to hear the story so you have to listen to this...
me: Ok (thinking about last time she said this and told me about the Opossums)
Meags: Well, I didn't know where he went and I was looking all over the back yard in just my bra and dress pants. Then, I thought he might have gotten out front so I ran out the front gate right as a truck full of guys drove by and I'm standing in my front yard in my bra yelling, "GUINNESS". I probably gave them an interesting start to their morning.
me: I can only imagine they were not too disappointed, hun.
Meags: Then, realizing I was in my bra I jumped in my car and grabbed an extra shirt out of the back and put it on and thought I should drive over to Grant's Trail (right behind her house) to look for him. Well, I pulled up to the trail entrance and these guys are looking at me funny running in heels down the trail. I ran yelling for Guinness for over a mile when I spied him jumping in and out of a mud puddle and rolling around in it. When he saw me he started to dart the other direction and I was soo exhausted I just plopped down on the ground and started crying knowing I couldn't catch up to him running. Well, I guess that is what he needed. He came running back to me and crawled in my lap rubbing against me trying to make me feel better. All he managed to do was make me feel muddy. He covered my clothes, hair and face in mud, so much for showering.

After sitting there for a bit, I decided to carry him back to the car. For such a little dog, he got really heavy fast after just running so far for him. My back starting hurting and I was ready to collapse again and I had nothing to walk him with. I finally figured I was covered in mud already and it would be easier to walk barefoot with him. As I took off my heels, I got the bright idea of linking the straps together and around his collar to walk him with. By the time I got back to my car the guys I passed earlier were laughing hysterically at me covered in mud and walking Guinness with my high heels. I'm sure I was quite a sight for them.

I pulled a Sheila

Geoff is keeping me very entertained today with his crabby, hungover mood, and constant calls for assistance.

Evidently, Geoff "pulled a Sheila" last night and is paying the price today. And while being in such a lovely condition, he decided loading up his new laptop with the necessary software and drivers is a good idea. I'm not so convinced being that I am his personal help desk technician, who he doesn't pay crap to put up with his attitude while providing great support. (LoL, feel the love, Geoff-geoff, feel the love)

Geoff and I met a few years back and the first time we went out, it was, of course, a drinking adventure. With our love of Vodka and the lack of things to do in Springfield, IL, we went on a pub crawl, drinking a Vodka-tonic or two at each of our stops. The last of our stops of the day landed us in a nice little corner bar where the bartender would hand-stuff the bleu cheese olives. (For all of you that just went Ewwwww, I'm right there with you.) Geoff happens to love a good vodka on the rocks garnished with a few bleu-cheese stuffed olives; he, also, believes that everyone else should love them too. I can tell you he is wrong in this belief (and now I think he finally agrees with me). Being the good sport I am, I tried one of Geoff's olives knowing I have never cared for the taste of olives or bleu-cheese. I managed to swallow without gagging the putrid thing back up and promptly washed it down with another vodka on the rocks.

After bantering for awhile about baseball and which team is better the Cards or the Cubs and placing a few wagers on the season's final outcomes. Geoff and I decided we drank more than our share of vodka for the day and maybe it was time for a break for a bit before dinner. Off to the hotel room we went, Geoff, unfortunately, beat me into the bathroom. While waiting my turn, I kicked back in the bed only to realize I was too drunk to lay down. My world started spinning and I couldn't get the legendary trick of the foot on the floor before I started hurling all over the bed and floor and eventually blacking out.

Waking up hours later in the bathtub, I realized Geoff was talking to my Mom of all people on the phone. First question out of my mouth is "Why is my mother calling you?" and then, hearing the concerned conversation I start blurting out, "I'm fine, Mom...just acted stupid and drank too much." Then, I had to explain to her, my sister, my ex-husband, and my friend, Jack that I was OK...and, no, they did not know Geoff, but I was completely safe...and, no, I will not tell you where I am...and, no, you cannot come and get me. UGH.

Needless to say, that was the night "pulling a Sheila" was coined. Anytime, Geoff or anyone he knows drinks to much into a puking oblivion, I get called and told about who "pulled a Sheila" this time. I'm glad I made my mark in history, or not.

Reflection

Life awards us every once in a great while with people who help us find ourselves. Some people are windows that allow us to open up and really see ourselves. Other people are mirrors whom we see ourselves in. These windows and mirrors are of different sizes and shapes with very different purposes. The compacts help us sneak a quick peek in when we need that reassurance; and the dressing mirrors help us put ourselves together and look good. The broken mirrors remind us noone is perfect; the broken windows let little surprises in that we normally keep at bay. The big windows allow us to open up and let in a nice breeze when we need cooling down. Then, there are the windows that allow the sun to shine through, warm our hearts, and light up our souls. Lastly, there are the bay windows that remind us to take time out and steal a moment for ourselves or even sometimes invite friends to sit down and share memories.

Surviving 50 Effan Years

Happy Birthday, Pops!

There is much to say, but few words that will give my thoughts justice. I'm just glad to know you are always there looking out for me, in one way or another. Hopefully, the next thirty years will bring you and I double the stories and great times of the last thirty.

Congratulations on 50 years
and here is to many more to come! Cheers!

I love you!

So close, yet, so far away

My life is brilliant...

She smiled at me on the subway
She was with another man
I won't lose no sleep on that
because I've got a plan...
I'm very content with life at the moment. I'm not too worried about the future for I'm realizing, in time, all things will work out, but which things? Hmmm, that is a question neither you or I know the answer of at the moment.

...we shared a moment that will last til the end...
I have a lot of faith in people, almost too much. This faith in people often leads to disappointment. I feel like that could happen again soon because I realized I was putting a lot of myself and my faith into someone that probably is not capable of returning it in the same capacity and may not ever. The tough part is letting go of someone who is quickly becoming such a cherished part of my life, but I think it will hurt less this way. I feel if I continue on the path I've been on with this person I'll end up disappointed in myself for once again jumping in head first, instead of dipping my toe in to test the waters first.
...I don't know what to do because but I'll never be with you...

I feel attachment to very few people. The ones I do feel the bond with make life seem pretty lonely when they are not around, which seems to be more than they are around. This is mainly my fault though. I never want to be looked at as needy by my friends. I love them all and don't want to be a bother, just a great friend. I am probably completely off in my thought of my friends thinking of me as needy. I tend to be the force behind the distance which sometimes seperates us due to me not wanting them to see me when I don't have life "together".

I tend to be very intuitive when it comes to other's needs and feelings. I guess I just assume everyone is this way. As I experience more and more people, I am realizing very few people are are naturally intuitive. I am not sure if this is a gift or a curse. Although, this time my intuition is saying hang in there, experience is saying cut loose now.

It's time to face the truth because I'll never be with you

lyrics: You're Beautiful by James Blunt

PS. My feet feel like they are housing rocks. I think I need a pedicure.

Selfish or Sense of Self

Why is it that I always have the need to accommodate others before myself? I rather make others happy and put my own feelings aside. I never want to be perceived as selfish or even be put at fault for making the wrong choice. I like being a responsible and take charge person, but the fear of the above has often caused an inner conflict: should I make things happen? or should I attempt pleasing everyone (the impossible task, but one I take on daily).

Where do we want to eat? Simple question, but one of the biggest dilemmas I face when out with a group. I might be craving something but unless i know for a fact others will want the same I will stay silent and make someone else choose. I'm afraid of choosing wrong, even if circumstances lead to something happening out of my control. If I made the choice I will feel guilty. There is the damn guilt thing again.

Last night, I was the designated driver, probably a long term position due to my abstaining from the so-called evil world of alcohol. Being in a bar with everyone drinking was a tough test for me. What made it worse was being responsible for 2 of the drunks there. Damn the drunks. I became very agitated quickly on Saturday. I think a shot or two would have put me at ease, but, instead, I was hyping up with Axiom Blues, another Red Bull-like drink. Just what I needed, caffeine, to add to the agitation that was building up inside me. My patience was fairly good despite my insides eating at me. I really needed to leave and take comfort away from the rowdy, loud drunks and numerous drinks scattered around me, but the drunks of the night are never the ones that want to leave the bar, especially before it closes. I should know, I've been the drunk of the night quite often the last few years, never wanting to miss a thing.

When I finally escaped the smokey bar scene, my aggitation didn't go away. It continued to grow worse as the night went on, stealing away the sleep I badly needed. Why you ask? I was still in a position of being responsible for another. I know it is awful, especially since I've been the drunk who has relied on others to take responsibility for me the last few years. I worry and to put myself at ease I will follow my point of concern in circles just to make sure they will be ok. I can't handle guilt if something should ever happen. Paranoia still lurks about me, but just not with the severity of the past.

I think it will be awhile before I will find a place of contentment in the bar scene or the drunk friend scene. Things I found highly amusing a few weeks ago are now churning my insides, begging for a way out of the situation. I know time will give me additional patience and comfort to allow me to enjoy the great times out with my friends and repay them for all the drunk-care they have provided to me in the past. I'm just not there, yet, but soon, very soon.

'Til then, let us all raise our glasses of water....Cheers!

It's not you, it's me?

I'm writing today not only my own personal experience and feelings, but from the stories and understandings of my many male friends, who often consider me just one of the guys. (I still haven't decided if that is a good or bad thing)

There is a common occurrence in dating many women, and sometimes men, do not understand. The lack of understanding adds to the cluelessness of what really causes men to "tick" and leads them into the circumstances of such occurrences. I hear about it repetitively from male-types I associate with. Such occurrences are very common in the movies too, but I rarely can say, as a female, I am often the perpetrator. I know you are wondering what this occurrence is and here is the really tough part to explain (partly because many of my readers are men and God bless you guys). Well, here goes nothing...

There is the situation where everything is going fine or status quo in a relationship. Then, for no particular reason, you wake up one day and realize I'm done. I am ready to pull out of this relationship. There is not an explainable reason. There is nothing wrong with the other party involved, no problems between the two of you. You just hit the point that you are finished with the relationship.

People have this need for justification, an exact reason. Some times life is not that simple, especially relationships. You can love a person, but not have that drive to keep things going. Relationships in my mind are draining (friendships, dating, family, etc.). I think one is sub-consciencely aware of a drain or lack of spark before one's self can fully interpret and justify an ending or change. I believe some people are just more willing to act on the sub-conscience edginess in a relationship and make the change without that one infamous reason, or last straw. And in these situations, no answer is ever really going to put one at peace. When it is over, it is over. When a change needs to be made, make it. Prolonging the inevitable is a guilty self-torture which is totally unnecessary.

Guilt: Being responsible for and accountable for an offense or (in my words) a torture device abused by modern society

Blogging at 3am

I've started about 6 posts over the last week that I have not posted for one reason or another. Some posts are left drafts because I am not ready for the world to view and others are to protect feelings (mine or other people's), one thing I said I wouldn't do with this blog. I started this anonymously to get things out of my head. I think I will continue in this direction, just not so anonymous anymore.

As therapy for PTSD, I started writing in a journal. This is great and all, but for a girl who is always on a computer everywhere she goes, I found blogging a better outlet for the noise in my head. For one, I'm always connected to the internet and, two, it just doesn't seem practical for a tech-girl like me to carry a big purse to fit a journal. I do not want to be viewed as a girly-girl afterall. (Hmm, I should really rethink that statement because I use it often while wearing heels and long hair everywhere I go.) Let's rephrase that, I do not want to be viewed as a high maintenance fru-fru girl who is always fussing about clothes, makeup, etc.

As my blog started to take on a little life and represent me. I started emailing my blog to different people in my life to test the waters and see if I would scare them away or where my thoughts would take others. I was very cautious and slow with sharing with one trusted group at a time....

1. Friends with distance - I am blessed with many friends. This trusted group of friends are people that do not have the history or day-to-day understanding of my life. Most of these connections run very deep, even more so now because they have stepped up at a time when I needed them most. Each of the chosen few received this link from me. I didn't ask for feedback, but knew them all of the minds to explore. Hours after forwarding the link the feedback was positive, understanding, and encouraging. This small groups encouragement is really what led to me showing my blog to anyone else.
2. Immediate family - I don't feel most of my family understands what I am going through or even a small fraction of what I feel most of the time. I was hoping this would provide them a portal, should they choose to explore. The link they have, the feedback I have not.
3. Like beings - People who I feel I relate to on different intelligence and higher emotional levels that the average person would not even take notice of or understand
4. Dearest friends - I found my peers as one of the most difficult groups to share with, next to family. I know my friends love me endlessly but sometimes it is hard to let them know you are weak, or maybe not as strong or as independent as you hope they were perceiving you.

I am starting to believe some of the people "closest to me" either are scared to comment, do not know what to say, scared to read it....or blatantly just haven't taken the time.

In the end, I guess, I know this is for me and my health. I have actually enjoyed the peace blogging brings to me.

Pleasure sometimes is a rare thing for me. For years, many things in life have been a forced smile or happiness. This time it is for real.

It is 4am, do you know where your blog is?

11 hours and 34 dead Armadillos...POP

I missed Becky's birthday today, but she was swamped with family things (and to swamp myself in the same way I spent the day with my Aunt Sis (Harleen) and her daughter, Mary Jo.
Actually, most of the day was spent in the car with my aunt. We drove from Farmington, MO to Springfield, MO to get Mary Jo settled into her dorm room for her first year at college. Exciting Stuff, huh?

I decided to go along for the trip to get in some quality time with my aunt who has always seemed to look out for me and to play the role of the big sister Mary Jo never wanted. I may have overplayed the role of big sister and overprotective parent a little...or maybe, a lot. I don't think my aunt was able to speak two words with me spouting out wisdom like I've experienced life unlike no other she'll cross paths with.

I doubt Mary Jo was listening to half of what I said, but even if she caught one little bit, she will experience one less trial and, with that, not have to learn any more lessons than needed the hard way.

We've all been there. Those first days, months, years on our own where we are terrible at laundry, dishes, money, boys (oh man, boys) etc. And after we survive, we try to share our experiences with our siblings and/or children, but they don't want to hear it, What do WE know anyways, we're old now. I laugh when an 18 year old thinks I'm old. I'm twenty-nine freaking years old! I'm not dead in the box yet, give me a break.

In my head, it was only yesterday when my parents and I were fighting over packing boxes to move my skinny butt out and off to college (Boy, that didn't last long). I did pretty good with the money aspect and even with keeping the boys in check (minus a toga party or two), after those two, my track record goes downhill quickly. I may not have been the worst, but I definitely could've done better. I'm either a perfectionist or far from perfection. I am not good with middle of the road average.

I think I ran out of clean dishes somewhere around the middle of Sept. '95. I don't think I saw them clean again until my Mom came to visit at the end of October and decided to wash and replace everything with paper products.

The other thing I was awful about was going to class, unless they could promise me something of interest I rather stay in bed. Osmosis and sleep are way better than showering, dressing and lecture hall, just make sure you are there on test days.

Speaking of showering...Oh my, Mary Jo doesn't know how lucky she is to be in a suite with just 6 girls in her "gross" bathroom. I had a shared one for the whole floor and it seemed like it was 100 years old. Icky and slimey were understatements. The only good time to shower was after midnight or no later than 6am, if you wanted hot water and water pressure at the same time. Being that I have long thick hair and can't stand cold showers, 6am it was, because listening to girls heave while you are trying to bath at midnight is not such a cleansing feeling. Are those chunks coming under the stall?

Survival of the fittest? Freshman 10, 15, 20??? The other thing I reminded Mary Jo of was loneliness and food does not cure it. I hooked her up with all sorts of snacks, but warned her that they were there to get her thru when she didn't have time to eat or needed a late night nutritional burst, not to get through a rough day in the dorm, fights with roommates or failing that first test because this isn't high school anymore.

I'm pretty sure she'll do great. She is a tough cookie, like myself. Her weaknesses will be that she will try to be too strong and proud at times. One of my hardest lessons learned was letting people in: to know I was sad, lonely, or just needed help. The next ten years will be some of the best and worst of times for her. Luckily the bad times, just make the good times that much better. She is beginning and I'm at the opposite end of those ten years trying to put myself together for the rest of my life. I kinda feel like we are in the same place, I just have a few more of the hard knocks under my belt. Maybe that is why I feel so strongly of trying to relate sooooo many lessons to her. I love her as much as my own sister (which she is) and want her to succeed. We all deserve it.

Now I'm guessing you wonder why I titled this 11 hours and 34 dead armadillos. Well, I spent 11 hours on the road Sunday from StL to Farmington to Springfield to Farmington to StL and counted 34 dead armadillos on the road. My aunt and I didn't hit any of the little guys, but from what we understand when they get scared they pop straight up as a defense mechanism. Then, SPLAT, right into the grill or bumper of your car. I only found one on hwy 67. Most of the little guys were in multiple degrees of decapitation along hwy 44 headed EASTBOUND. I guess they've had enough of ol' georgie and texas too. Can't blame them, I would just advise more caution hiking up the highways though ;)

Happy Birthday, Becky!

"HAPPY 29th BIRTHDAY, BECKY"
You soon to be old married hag!
Enjoy this last year of the life
as a 20-something singleton
because it all changes next year.
Married. 30s. Mrs. Rob...
Oh my, sounds scary to me.
Who ever thought we'd get past
our UA days
of red plaid skirts and cardigans?
(get your minds out of the gutter, boys)
Congratulations on your engagement
and
Happy Birthday, Sweets!
I would sing,
but you know I save that for our
"special moments".
Luv ya!

Tailspin

Speed
Sliding round curves
Out of control
Scared out of my mind
Trees reaching to steal my soul
My stomach turning inside out
I've lost all my resolve

It doesn't make any sense
How did I fall all apart
I told them, "I don't drink any more"

They said, "You don't drink any less"

Now I'm down on my knees
I've fallen again

I cry for help
I scream out for forgiveness
I wish he could hear
If only he were near
Just to help put back the pieces
To help push away the fear
To have him hold me against him
For me to smell him again

I'm sitting here shaking
For what am I to do
Lost in this time

Again, lost in this place

the taste
the feel
the loss of control
the innocence it begs steal
I can't keep ending up here
Destroying what is left of me

I can't keep gathering up the pieces

I am running out of glue
I don't want to be broken anymore

Please help me seal up the cracks

and fulfill my need to be whole

by SHE 2006

On my desk right now one could find an empty Sonic cup, my broken eye glasses, my red scratched up cell phone, a sealed up bottle of Aquafina that I may never open, and a knife with dried up cheese. My desk sounds exciting, eh? I should clean it, but I rather sit here and type random thoughts to you.

My great-aunt, Sister Ellen Michael Leary, died today. I'm feeling extremely guilty about this, but in other ways very thankful too. She has not been well and suffered more than her fair share of pain and ailments in life. The guilt is my own from not spending enough time with her in last years due to my inability to do so. My life has been somewhat handicapped, but I still fee like I should've overcome my fears at least once and gone to visit her. It is too late now. I plan to write more to share with you in the near future. Stay tuned.

I know this is somewhat sudden, but I think I have found a replacement for alcohol....Are you ready for this???? Dr. Pepper, Red Bull, and Chimi-cheese cakes...these three in high quantities will make you feel really good and really miserable at the same time. I've been on quite the sugar and caffeine rush lately with a very bloated tummy. The good part though is I've managed to cut back my alcohol back quite a bit, not completely but definitely lowered it. The right direction is what counts.

Well, I don't have much else to report on except there is still this dirty knife on my desk. They left me with a sharp object. Who should I go scare in the office today? They told me I look like a cross between little red riding hood and death. I'm wearing a black hooded zip-up jacket with the hood up. Time to go scare people. Til later, my friends.........

Because I'm not feeling very creative today

I stole this from Casa Christy's blog...Enjoy

1. first prom date? Some guy from Vianney who I met the week before Prom. I don't remember his name. I met him at a party. He stole one of my McDonald's french fries and stuck it in his mouth and so I ate it out. You don't steal a girl's french fries. Prom was the last time I saw him. We didn't have anything in common but McDonald's french fries.

2. first roommate? Sarah V. S.

3. first time drunk on? Long Island Teas @ McGuirk's...Thanks, Lucky (Johnny)

4. first job? family's printing company unless you count the endless babysitting jobs

5. first car? 79 Buick Regal

6. age of first funeral? 6 - Grandpa's (at least the wake-part of things)

7. age when first moved away from your hometown? 18 - KC

8. first grade teacher? Sister Janet

9. first ride on an airplane? when and where? Atlanta - 1977

10. first time sneaking out of the house and with who? I was a good little Catholic girl. I never did those things

11. first Best Friend and are you still friends? Melissa Cruise in pre-school. We are no longer friends but we did run into each other in HS and hung out for several years before losing touch again.

12. first place you lived after your parents house? Rockhurst U in KC

13. first person you call when you have a bad day? Mom, my Ex, or Geoff-geoff, but I never tell any of them I'm having a bad day...I just chat with them

14. first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen? never, but I will be a year from September in Becky's wedding

15. first thing you do in the morning? pee

16. first concert you ever went to? Jesus Jones

17. first tattoo or piercing? ears in first grade

18. first celebrity crush? John Cusack in Better Off Dead

19. age of first kiss? Kevin Knieram (sp?) in first grade

20. first love? My ex-husband, Chris

21. still in love with your first love? I'll always love him, but in a very different way

Anything else you want to know about me? Feel free to ask any time. I want to be an open book and this forum is my way to help me do just that.

Happy 29th Birthday, Sarah!

Happy Birthday, Sarah!

Don't forget to let your inner child out this year
for now is the end of your youth.
Next year YOU'LL BE OLD
and kissin your 20s goodbye.
I love you
and hope this is the best birthday yet.

Give Wayne a kiss for me

and tell him I am glad he has made it home safely.

Love you both!

Shebs

PS. to the readers out there. Shebs is not my real name, just Sarah's nickname for me. Thank my parents for having better taste than naming me after cat food. Also, Wayne is Sarah's hubby who is returning from overseas tomorrow. Who could ask for a better birthday present?

Sink or Swim....

Sometimes I don't deal well finding the middle ground. I either fail or succeed, but the success is more like a first place victory and the failure is like coming in dead last. I have a lot of passions in life that I don't explore very often because these passions tend to be judged in manners that could subject me to mediocre-ness. I might be considered average (a thought that often scares me)...and the thing is, I won't know until I am judged if I am a success or failure. In most of life, I know where I stand, with writing or speaking I don't have a clue until my audiences responds. To be truthful, I love speaking and writing for others. If I do well at these two things, I feel a greater sense of accomplishment, than all the trophies and medals from dancing and all the straight A's in school could ever provide.

I have one problem with exploring and expressing my creative side more (and my artsy friends don't take offense because I love you dearly and respect you more than most people in the world)....My intelligence, I think, has often been based on my more scientific, factual side of life, not the creative side. I fear not being recognized for my intelligence. Why? I think because this is how I've been judged and compared to others my entire life, but intelligence isn't going to make me stand out anymore like it did in school or when I was way ahead of the game in the work place. The world caught up with me. Maybe the creative side is what I need to stand out and no longer be the wall flower that fear attempted to destine for me. Damn the PTSD

Although, I look at most of my writing and speaking as teaching. I would love to know that someone is or could benefit from what I have to say or write, maybe not necessarily in this format (blogging), but in others I provide. I guess this is the direction I will have to explore next. The path ahead looks scary, but it is time for me to put the fear behind and forge ahead.

Dad-isms

My Dad's 50th birthday is coming up in a couple weeks. If you know my dad, you would agree he is one of the most fun people to hang around. For his birthday, I decided to start a blog with all the funny dad stories I can think of...and there are many, trust me. Here is the blog address http://50effanyears.blogspot.com/ Please check back often, because I hope to be working on it around the clock.

And, Dad, if you find this,

"Happy 50th Birthday! You're the best!"

"PS. According to Sharon, who is older than you, you're not old 'til you're 92."

It's 3am, do you know where my sleep is?

I can't sleep, again. The one amusing thing about the situation is the singular thought in my head is the Bedroom Store commercial that run in the mornings, "Hi, I'm Danny Boyd. Hope you slept well St. Louis." I guess I should give them props on that I am thinking about it at 3am when I cannot sleep (although, in a slightly pissed off, nightmarish way).

Help needed by a Socially Handicapped Extrovert

How can I be a naturally social person, an extrovert, but suffer from so much anxiety in social situations? I can honestly talk to almost anyone that crosses my path, but the problem is that it used to come to me naturally without any thought. Now I think about how the proper thing is to greet and converse with those around me; and, then, I force myself to say 'Hi' or start light conversation. It isn't easy; and to myself, it doesn't seem to have any flow to it. It makes me very sick, but I, often, cannot bring myself to ease with new people, old friends, family, or whoever is the person(s) of the hour is.

The tough thing is I was not brought up to be a wall flower, so I find ways to be social. These fixes tend to be more destructive in the end, rather than helpful. Destructive is a better description of the long term effects; the short term is better described by embarassing. If you read my post about addiction, you probably guessed my fix is alcohol. A shot or a starter drink will usually loosen me up enough to lift the edginess so I talk with less internal worry and pain. The problem is I start feeling better and think one more won't hurt. The second drink starts to numb the shakiness, the guilt associated with not knowing what to say, and the worry that the other person may be taking offense to my lack of conversation. The third drink usually breaks the shell enough that I can be comfortable in most situations, but three often translates into four, five, six, etc.

I remember there was a day when alcohol was not a factor at all, although many thought I was drunk as a skunk. I was, in reality, completely sober, running on adreneline. Oh, how I want those days back. I am so sick of being the drunk people make fun of, or the person that puked her guts out because she doesn't know when to stop drinking.

I am a bit of a free spirit, which is another part of my life which severely clashes with this whole PTSD life, at times. I like to push the line, but with alcohol involved the line becomes more extreme and I cross it anyways. This usually ends up with me waking up the next day totally mortified or ashamed of my behavior*** the night before and often depressed. I like to have fun, but there are limits to having fun if you still want to stay classy (and not just another bar tramp). Right now, I'm the drunk who is trying to walk the straight line of the limits, occassionally stumbling across the line only to quickly correct myself and get back on track.

I am going to work on making some new changes over the next couple of weeks, including drinking a lot less maybe not even at all. We will see. One step at a time. (I like to skip steps, but being I'm a clutz and would fall flat on my face, I'll try to keep things simple and focus on one thing at a time for awhile.)

*** Please don't take this wrong, I'm not sleeping around, at all. No matter how drunk I get, I've never been the type of girl to meet a guy and bed him, ever.

Now this is Service - 2 hours 5 minutes later..

Microsoft finally told me they would have to forward my problem to the Internet Explorer development team and their queue is a call-back queue. The current wait time for a call-back is 24 hours. WOW, I'm so impressed, especially after wasting the last 2 hrs and 5 mins of my life trying to get a ticket opened. Maybe Billy-boy himself is going to call me back and thank us for finding flaws in their security fixes...then, again, I'll be lucky for someone who speaks understandable English calls me back with a fix before our customers call raising all hell because our product no longer works if they apply this latest IE cumulative patch.

Hmm, now that my phone is no longer attached to my ear, I'm not sure what to do. Is it 5 o'clock yet?

Microsoft phone support aka my living hell

Ok, I've been on the phone with Microsoft's support line now for over 50 minutes and still do not have a ticket opened yet. Good thing I'm getting paid good money to sit here on hold (and blog). I work for a software company and our software has suddenly stopped working after Microsoft's latest cumulative update for Internet Explorer was applied this morning. Damn Microsoft, again! so much for quality testing. The Microsoft Knowledge Base says the problem is a known issue and provides a link to download the fix, but the fix doesn't fix it. Go figure, another round of applause for Microsoft, please.

Microsoft has caused me to lose my appetite. I just gave my awesome lunch of a chicken fajita wrap to my cube neighbor. As he opened to eat it, the smell wofted over here, now I'm hungry again. DAMN Microsoft, it is all your fault I gave my lunch away. It has now been 55 minutes and 22 seconds and I'm still on hold. I'll keep you posted on my progress later.

I'm just glad I'm not paying for this call. Yippee, screw Microsoft.

Addiction and Alcoholism

...more words to add to my scary word list courtesy of my doc.

Unfortunately, PTSD puts many at risk for addiction. In my particular case, the addiction would be alcohol. Alcohol seems to be my rescue in the situations where I do not feel at ease or need release from my demons. The problem is I rarely stop with a drink or two. I imagine you are thinking, "Hey, you know there is a problem so take charge." If it were only that simple, I would love to.

At this point in time, I cannot even avoid a single drink if I'm out most nights. I usually succumb to at least a single shot, which, more times than not, leads to more. I am sure many of the sober or designated drivers out there understand; it is not much fun being the only sober one amongst a bunch of drunks. Also, if someone buys me a drink (which happens often), I'm afraid if I don't drink it I will offend/hurt someone. The drinking is becoming a viscious circle going from guilt, controlling anxiety, and trying to feel part of the fun to depression, feeling like crap, and being mad at myself for not having more control of my life. I guess that defines it right there.

Definitions
Alcoholism is a chronic and often progressive disease. Like many diseases, it has symptoms that include a strong need to drink despite negative consequences, such as serious job or health problems. Like many diseases, it has a generally predictable course and is influenced by both genetic (inherited) and environmental factors.

Addiction is the compulsion to repeat a behavior regardless of its consequences. Addiction describes a chronic pattern of behavior that continues despite the direct or indirect adverse consequences that result from engaging in the behavior. It is quite common for an addict to express the desire to stop the behavior, but find himself or herself unable to cease.

It's a small world after all

I had a long talk last night with a friend of mine, who like myself is going through (to coin our president) the shock and awe phase of divorce. It's a time when you realize how great things are now and that not everything is like our lives pre-divorce. It is one of those times where you really start to discover who you are as a solo and that things do not have to be the same with any possible future duet.

The great thing about this friend is how much he makes me smile (like my old self smiling all the time). He truly is interested in my life and vice-versa. Even though our marriages (and divorces) were very different, there is still an overwhelming amount of parallel ground between us.

He is, also, one of the first people to really want to understand what I am going through with the PTSD. He questioned about why I keep things in and what sort of things I keep tucked away deep inside. He just wanted to know the deeper me...and as scary as it was to skim some of those details, he made me feel at ease with it all...and the details didn't scare him.

His smile is warming and contagious. His concern is so deep and genuine and extremely comforting. I am not sure if it is because we are really getting to know each other or not, but I just have so much to talk to him about, so many similar stories, so much fascination with each other. It is great and rare to have someone that "gets it" and for that I'm feeling very blessed today.

A little help from my friends

...What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me...

Some people find my life fascinating, not because of things I've done or accomplished but because of how my life is post-divorce. I am, evidently, one of those strange people who have remained friends with my ex-husband. We are not tolerating each other because we have joint custody of kids...We never had kids, nor tried. We are not the type of friends who cross paths andl say hi to each other. Chris and I are really great friends. Not only am I great friends with him, but I am becoming great friends with (stop the presses) his girlfriend, Lisa.

Lisa is one of these unbelievably nice people that sees the best in everyone. Like myself, she is very open-minded and rather be friends with someone than not have any relationship with them at all. She is open-minded and just as comfortable with me, as I am with her. She even hangs out with me without Chris around. I definitely consider her MY friend, not just Chris' girlfriend.

...I get by with a little help from my friends
I get high with a little help from my friends
Going to try with a little help from my friends...
Chris and Lisa really have been a huge support system for me. For example, I had a bad weekend and the two of them happened to stop in to drop some of my things off. Instead of dropping and running, they came in to have a drink and to catch up a bit. Not only were helping me talk thru emotional ups and downs that I have been dealing with, Chris fixed my garbage disposal and took out my trash. Damn, I wish he was this helpful when we were married (just kidding, Chris). Sitting there talking with them is no different than chatting with my other close friends. I really have seperated myself from my life as one with Chris and vice-versa. We both look at the now and rarely look back or dwell on the past. We started off as friends and friends is how we shall end.

...What do I do when my love is away
(Does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(Are you sad because you're on your own)

No I get by with a little help from my friends
Do you need anybody...
I am not sure I could get by everything life is throwing at me right now without Chris. He is the only one that was in the car when I was hit, even though he was not conscious. He is the only person that really knew how bad my ups and downs were following the accident and how much the accident took away my identity. He and I went through a rollercoaster of hell, but came out of it with smiles on our faces knowing both our lives will be ok. We are still here to support each other, just with different rules to this new game of life.

...I get by with a little help from my friends
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends
With a little help from my friends

~Lyrics: A little help from my friends by Lennon/McCartney~

When the dog bites, when the bee stings

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

When things aren't good I tend to splurge on comfort foods. Since I don't grocery shop, I have to find my binge food elsewhere. Enter Mi Lupita, the BEST mexican food in St. Louis. They have one restaurant in Ballwin and one in Fenton. I frequent them both often (tells you about how often I need my comfort foods & tequila). I love the food so much I've offered to do a website for them (still under construction www.mi-lupita.com). I walk in and the entire staff greets me with hugs. After my very welcoming greeting, they all know I get ice water at lunchtime and a medium margarita with Presidente Brandy on top with dinner. At lunchtime, they also know to order white cheese dip and a L-L pollo (translation: chicken burrito enchilada style)...Now if that isn't service I don't know what is. For dessert, I splurge on either chimi-cheese cake with hot apples and ice cream or cinnamon crispies with ice cream. I know ice cream and margaritas, blah, but just remember not to mix til your done with dessert and then wash your mouth with a shot of tequila before returning to said margarita and life is good again.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Another thing that really puts me at ease is curling up on my couch in some comfy PJs. As I'm sure I've written before, this is my happy place where I tend to lay low at to avoid the world and regroup, not always a good thing, but it is my way of coping with life right now.

The back of my house is all windows, my little my portal to the world. I love just laying on the couch and watching the birds, chipmunks, and squirrels play around on a sunny day. It is, also, a great view to watch a thunderous lightning storm...watching the trees bend to and fro, hearing the thunder shake the windows, and watching the light streak across the sky, just heavenly.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

Enter problem, I'm doing my best to not drink anymore. I would also like to shake a few pounds that I had tossed earlier this year and somehow gained back all in the last month. Weight scares me, but so does the drinking. I'm not good at saying no to free drinks, which seems to equate to free pounds on my thighs. I'm not good at leaving the house anymore for a walk or a workout, either, even though I feel awesome and full of life afterwards. The alcohol gives me a pick up too, but only during the partaking. The pick me up turns to a big bring me down after I get home and even more so when I wake up the next day. See my Praying to the Porcelain post for more ugly details on this one. I'm looking for that happy medium, because it is really hard to go out with friends when I am the only sober one. I've tried just throwing back a shot or a drink early on to ease my nerves, but one usually ends up in tons...again bad news. I'll figure it out eventually until then, I think I'll go have a lil Mexican for lunch ;)

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

Hey little sister what have you done

Saturday afternoon, my dearest friend, Rrebeckagh, from high school called. "HEY, DO YOU WANT TO BE IN MY WEDDING? YOU'RE THE FIRST PERSON I ASKED." Translation: Rob finally proposed approximately 1 year after the two of them met poolside. I think I had to ask 3 times how he proposed, I don't think she cared...she had the holy grail, or maybe one hell of a blinging engagement ring, either way, my little Becky-sister (as my youngest siblings always refer to her) is getting married! Her world is finally complete.

One question: Does anyone date anymore? or do you just get married? I have little faith in love at first sight and maybe that one little piece of pessimism in my life is what keeps me from jumping in head first with every guy I meet (and trust me, sometimes that is not easy). I'm cautious right now; I can't deal with any additional possibility of trauma, plus keeping a little distance makes the heart grow founder, right?

I love Becky and Rob...and I envy what they and some of my other friends have figured out so quickly. I wish them, along with Michelle and Tom, the best of luck in their new lives together. Michelle and Tom are just over a month from their wedding.

As Billy Idol has said many times, "It's a nice day for a white wedding".

Stick me with a needle

I may be repeating myself, but I've been in a lull, pretty numb to the world. I think this feeling is partly by choice. I don't want to be involved. I don't want to get out.

I stayed at home this weekend, safely curled up on my couch...I can be numb; I don't have to witness and process the world moving forward around me. At home, life is the same. Nothing is going on or changing around me. There is not a thing to drain me more than my own thoughts. To make the scene even better, my power was out a good part of the time on Saturday. The sky outside was dark, rain was tapping against the windows, and I sat there curled up under a sheet, alone. Even though the world was stagnent around me, my brain was in full-speed, wandering. I think I was actually happy not to have anything invading my thoughts.

Although alone time seems great, it is plagued with guilt of everything I should be doing. I have a basement full of laundry. The carpet in the living room needs to be cleaned (damn dogs). The wood floors need to be swept (damn dog hair). I need to shower (damn me). There is, also, the guilt of what I owe others. I should be spending time with my grandmother, or my sister, who keeps calling my cell phone wanting me to join her on a poor man's shopping adventure. I could be doing something productive like making jewelry or posting my 10 cases of Hallmark ornaments on eBay (cha-ching), but instead I stay curled up in a ball staring at the rain splashing against the windows.

I so badly wish to be out of this funk. I even passed on opportunities to go spend time with my beau, who I've spent very little time with the last few weeks. He will be leaving in a week on a cross-country adventure, helping move his brother out West for school, but it still doesn't seem reason enough for me to leave my zone and my chance to think.

These lil lulls in life seem to bring on cravings, sweet cravings. By noon, Saturday, I already put away a box of Thin Mints that I had sitting on the counter since the Girl Scouts delivered them in March. Its funny how they didn't become a diet temptation til now. And if there was ice cream in the house, I could've easily ate a gallon of it (my waistline is thankful that I don't shop often and the freezer is often empty).

I sit in my lonliness and as content as I am; I'm just as much not. I want someone there to save me from myself, but, in the same instance, the person seems to an intrusion into my world of me. I think someone best put it, "I have 3 brain cells left and they are all at war." I would have to say that is a pretty good description of my life right now, no easy decisions.

I could continue on, but lately I feel like my writing is a clustered trainwreck (but then again aren't all trainwreck's clustered?).

Do you ever have so much in your head to solve that even spending the whole weekend alone thinking it all through is just not enough time to make sense of it all??? not enough time to solve all the little problems plaguing your day-to-day life???