Some of you will be too young to remember the lyrics from this mid 90's rap song...but whenever I think of my current love life situation, it forces it's way into my brain and leaves me singing it the rest of the day.
I slept with my ex husband.
Technically he is separated from his wife. Technically he has not lived at home with her in a month or so. Technically she has filed for divorced and technically, they will not be together soon. But technically I got really drunk and technically, I. slept. with. a. married. man.
I'm not making light of this by somewhat making jokes about it. I'm not. But if I dwell on what a bad, bad thing it was, then I will cry. We just fit. We always have. We were just so young and immature and got thrown into adult life and parenthood so fast...that when push came to shove, he pushed and I shoved right back.
Now, we talk. We "hang out." We share our passions about music and books and food. And most of all, we share our passions about our daughter. That bond. That link, it does something to people. We were in his work shop (he's a building contractor) that is equipped with a fridge, a stereo system and marble table and chairs. And "Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel comes on, and completely cliche', but that was one of "our songs." We laughed at the irony as I tipped back my 4th glass of Pinot. As he takes my glass (not realizing that he had been generously pouring it in to my glass all night) he leans down and kisses me. Soft and sweet and it brought me back. Brought me back to sneaking out of the house at 15 years old to see him. Of our dances and homecomings and prom. I hadn't kissed him in 10 years. At first I resisted, because it was a little weird, but old feelings just took over and the wine started talking and I gave in. There was no one home. And I gave into all the shit that I have been through the last 5 months. I gave into him and let him. And I let myself.
The next day, he texted me, to make sure I was "okay". And I couldn't' shake the feeling that I had cheated on Coach. Though I haven't talked to him in weeks. He is with someone new. We are not together and have not been since July. I was honest with Ex. I told him I still loved Coach, when he told me he was still in love with me. And now life is officially complicated. And I have no one to blame but myself.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Between a Rock and a Hardplace
I watch her. I watch her closely. With her sleepy eyes and messy hair. Cuddling up next to me with her mismatched socks and ratty sweatpants. She eats a turkey sandwich, feeding every other bite to the dog. She begged me to watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" for the 10th time since Wednesday as I get up to put the last of the ornaments on the tree. She stands up to do her best Britney Spears impression and holds one ear and says "yeah, yeah, yeah." And then says, "It's Britney, bitch." I have to scold her, but it's too hilarious not to laugh. She thinks Britney is getting a bad rap and that no one has showed her how to be a good mom. She thinks that Britney needs a "serious reality check." Though she is 13, she is wise. So, so wise. She dances around and begs me for ice cream, I say no for the 6th time that morning. She lays on the floor, letting the dog lick her face and tickle her toes, she screams with giggly, little girl laughs.
Cut to 3 hours later.
We are at a basketball game. She sits with The Boyfriend and The Friends. She is stunning. Fucking stunning. Straight blond hair past her shoulders, side swept bangs...giant brown eyes, a little eyeliner and lip gloss is all she will ever need on that face. She walked around for an hour getting ready. She had switched. I watch her. I watch her closely. As she does the getting ready mambo. She walks around in bra and panties...and socks of course, trying to decide what to wear. Those jeans aren't clean, those don't make her look skinny, those make her look fat MOTHER! (she screams). And then she sticks her lip out and apologizes and asks me to straighten the back of her hair, because there is always that "lump". I allow a tiny bit of makeup. She is ready. Finally. She ignores me once we get there, walking away and only coming back with her hand out wanting concession stand money. She smiles at me knowingly. Knowing that I know where she is. All the time. I watch her laugh. I watch her throw her hair over her shoulder, being so cool. She is surrounded by people that will judge her and be mean to her in a heartbeat. Teenagers are cruel. She is self conscious. She tugs at her shirt. She is built like a BRICK HOUSE at 13 and looks 16. A size 4 jeans and ample B cup...she has ZERO to be self conscious about. But she is claiming there is a "fat roll" that plagues her. It's strange, because I have never seen it.
She wants to be so many things. But she is stuck. Stuck wanting to ask for a Giant Barbie Head to play with and do makeup and hair with but really asking for a Hollister gift card. She's between a rock and a hard place. So I watch her. I watch her closely. She struggles, yet does it with a funny, mature, and sarcastic way that makes my heart smile. So I wait, I wait with bated breath to see. To see which kid she will be at different times of the day. The rock and the hard place getting smaller and smaller. And soon it will be gone. She will be grown up. And everything will be hard for her. Bills and school and student loans. Broken hearts and family issues.
So, I want to hang on. Hang on just a little longer to the little girl. The little girl that runs out after it rains to move the worms off the sidewalk, back to the soil, so they won't die. The little girl who sleeps with every stuffed animal she owns, so no one gets "their feelings hurt." The girl that wakes up singing "Where Are You Christmas" in her best Cindy Lou Hoo voice. The little girl who still wants to sleep with me from time to time and the girl that I held 13 years ago, for the first time and nursed and played with. Watching her take her first steps, walking to her daddy for the first time. Watched her walk into that school in kindergarten and crying all the way to work because of it. Watching her change from chubby little girl to a slim preteen. It all seemed to happen overnight. When she beams on report card day because of straight A's and pumps her fist triumphantly walking out of the gym because she made a highly competitive cheerleader squad. The girl that cries at "Simon Birch" over and over and claims that she and The Boyfriend are soul mates at 13.
So, I will watch and smile. Cry and laugh. I will watch her change every day and be thankful for this little person, this little adult she is turning into. And thank God that every once in awhile I still get to hang out with that little girl. The one who hasn't quite gotten to the "hard place" yet.
Cut to 3 hours later.
We are at a basketball game. She sits with The Boyfriend and The Friends. She is stunning. Fucking stunning. Straight blond hair past her shoulders, side swept bangs...giant brown eyes, a little eyeliner and lip gloss is all she will ever need on that face. She walked around for an hour getting ready. She had switched. I watch her. I watch her closely. As she does the getting ready mambo. She walks around in bra and panties...and socks of course, trying to decide what to wear. Those jeans aren't clean, those don't make her look skinny, those make her look fat MOTHER! (she screams). And then she sticks her lip out and apologizes and asks me to straighten the back of her hair, because there is always that "lump". I allow a tiny bit of makeup. She is ready. Finally. She ignores me once we get there, walking away and only coming back with her hand out wanting concession stand money. She smiles at me knowingly. Knowing that I know where she is. All the time. I watch her laugh. I watch her throw her hair over her shoulder, being so cool. She is surrounded by people that will judge her and be mean to her in a heartbeat. Teenagers are cruel. She is self conscious. She tugs at her shirt. She is built like a BRICK HOUSE at 13 and looks 16. A size 4 jeans and ample B cup...she has ZERO to be self conscious about. But she is claiming there is a "fat roll" that plagues her. It's strange, because I have never seen it.
She wants to be so many things. But she is stuck. Stuck wanting to ask for a Giant Barbie Head to play with and do makeup and hair with but really asking for a Hollister gift card. She's between a rock and a hard place. So I watch her. I watch her closely. She struggles, yet does it with a funny, mature, and sarcastic way that makes my heart smile. So I wait, I wait with bated breath to see. To see which kid she will be at different times of the day. The rock and the hard place getting smaller and smaller. And soon it will be gone. She will be grown up. And everything will be hard for her. Bills and school and student loans. Broken hearts and family issues.
So, I want to hang on. Hang on just a little longer to the little girl. The little girl that runs out after it rains to move the worms off the sidewalk, back to the soil, so they won't die. The little girl who sleeps with every stuffed animal she owns, so no one gets "their feelings hurt." The girl that wakes up singing "Where Are You Christmas" in her best Cindy Lou Hoo voice. The little girl who still wants to sleep with me from time to time and the girl that I held 13 years ago, for the first time and nursed and played with. Watching her take her first steps, walking to her daddy for the first time. Watched her walk into that school in kindergarten and crying all the way to work because of it. Watching her change from chubby little girl to a slim preteen. It all seemed to happen overnight. When she beams on report card day because of straight A's and pumps her fist triumphantly walking out of the gym because she made a highly competitive cheerleader squad. The girl that cries at "Simon Birch" over and over and claims that she and The Boyfriend are soul mates at 13.
So, I will watch and smile. Cry and laugh. I will watch her change every day and be thankful for this little person, this little adult she is turning into. And thank God that every once in awhile I still get to hang out with that little girl. The one who hasn't quite gotten to the "hard place" yet.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Sorry Sarah :(
Well, I am a bad blogger...bad, bad blogger! I know. Just like I shew my little Cosmo away for chewing up my magazines, I should be shewed away from Blogger for inactivity. But I have vowed to do better. And that's what counts right?
Well, work has been CRAZY lately, I work at a university and registration for spring classes has begun and it's very hectic. My kid is also a cheerleader and we are at the gym, at tumbling, at practice or cheering at a game every.fucking.night.
The Coach situation. Well, there really isn't a situation. I have finally stopped checking his new girlfriend's My Space page. I haven't talked to him in 2 weeks. I was so shocked on Halloween when "Jane Says" started playing on my cell, while The Kid and I were giving the dog a red mo- hawk in celebration of the non-holiday. I jumped up and said, "Holy shit!" We talked for about 30 minutes.
Him, "How are you?"
Me, "Fine."
Him, "How's The Kid?"
Me, "Fine."
Him, "The dog and your family?"
Me, "All fine."
I couldn't give him more. He doesn't deserve more. He doesn't want me, he doesn't love me, he doesn't really care. I have been lying to myself and need.to.stop.it. He doesn't deserve to know that I still think of him alot and even cry over him now and then. He doesn't deserve me. He doesn't deserve The Kid or The Dog. He is a wonderful person. He is. Caring and genuine and great in the sack. BUT HE DOES NOT WANT ME. Therefore, I CANNOT want him. End of story.
I was watching the Brown's game a few Sundays ago and I saw him on the sidelines (he is video coordinator for the Cleveland Browns). I texted him and asked if he was right behind the bench, about the 40 yard line and he texted me right back and said "Yup!" I watched the rest of the game just to catch little glimpses of him and every time, my heart would jump up in my throat. I miss him. I miss him so much that it makes my hair hurt. But I have GOT to turn this corner.
Besides, I have a new problem on my hands...my ex husband told me that he was still in love with me the other night. Pray tell...what in the shit do I do about THAT??
Well, work has been CRAZY lately, I work at a university and registration for spring classes has begun and it's very hectic. My kid is also a cheerleader and we are at the gym, at tumbling, at practice or cheering at a game every.fucking.night.
The Coach situation. Well, there really isn't a situation. I have finally stopped checking his new girlfriend's My Space page. I haven't talked to him in 2 weeks. I was so shocked on Halloween when "Jane Says" started playing on my cell, while The Kid and I were giving the dog a red mo- hawk in celebration of the non-holiday. I jumped up and said, "Holy shit!" We talked for about 30 minutes.
Him, "How are you?"
Me, "Fine."
Him, "How's The Kid?"
Me, "Fine."
Him, "The dog and your family?"
Me, "All fine."
I couldn't give him more. He doesn't deserve more. He doesn't want me, he doesn't love me, he doesn't really care. I have been lying to myself and need.to.stop.it. He doesn't deserve to know that I still think of him alot and even cry over him now and then. He doesn't deserve me. He doesn't deserve The Kid or The Dog. He is a wonderful person. He is. Caring and genuine and great in the sack. BUT HE DOES NOT WANT ME. Therefore, I CANNOT want him. End of story.
I was watching the Brown's game a few Sundays ago and I saw him on the sidelines (he is video coordinator for the Cleveland Browns). I texted him and asked if he was right behind the bench, about the 40 yard line and he texted me right back and said "Yup!" I watched the rest of the game just to catch little glimpses of him and every time, my heart would jump up in my throat. I miss him. I miss him so much that it makes my hair hurt. But I have GOT to turn this corner.
Besides, I have a new problem on my hands...my ex husband told me that he was still in love with me the other night. Pray tell...what in the shit do I do about THAT??
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
"I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen"
If you know even a little about movies, this is a classic line from Say Anything. Lloyd is sitting in the car, he told Diane he loved her. She gave him a gift instead of saying it back. She gave him a pen.
This is what my relationship with Coach feels like. He calls me. Usually once a week. We talk about work, family, kids, the weather, the news, money, school. That's all great. But I try to open up, usually towards the end of a conversation and...he gives me a pen.
Last week during our conversation, I told him I had been trying to add little by little to my kitchen utensils, appliances, etc. One of our long standing jokes/arguments is that I have shit for pots and pans. He LOVES to cook and is very, very talented. Well, when we met, I had one sauce pan, one skillet and a rusty old cookie sheet. He found this hilarious and endearing in the beginning. Cut to two years later and he was FURIOUS every time we cooked at my house and he had to make do with my crappy stuff. One day, I got home and there was a package in my door! I thought, "OOOH! A PRESENT!" It was knives. Steak knives. From Overstock.com. Seriously. He also bought a really nice stock pot and cookie sheet for my house. Oh and wooden spoons. He doesn't cook without wooden spoons. He makes wonderful Stromboli's, the perfect pancake and grill like no other. Though I appreciate all of those things, it was usually just a dig at me for not growing up and getting this type of stuff, not him doing something nice for me. He said it was just a symptom of my reoccurring "Youngest Child Syndrome."
So, the other night I told him that with every paycheck I have been buying one kitchen gadget. I bought some decent skillets, a can opener, a really nice saucepan, etc.
Him, "You have not."
Me, "Yes! I have I swear!"
Him, "Throw that old shit away. Especially that skillet that is uneven and you have to cook everything to the right of the pan."
Me, "I will throw it away."
Him, "No you won't. You don't throw anything away."
Me, "Yes I will!! I swear!"
Him, "I will believe it when I see it."
Me, "When do you think you might see it? Soon?"
Him, "Well, it's 10:00 and we have 6am practice so I gotta run. It was great to talk to you."
Me, "Yeah, you too. Take care. Good luck on Sunday."
Him, "Bye."
Click......
And there, ladies and gentlemen, he handed me my pen.
This is what my relationship with Coach feels like. He calls me. Usually once a week. We talk about work, family, kids, the weather, the news, money, school. That's all great. But I try to open up, usually towards the end of a conversation and...he gives me a pen.
Last week during our conversation, I told him I had been trying to add little by little to my kitchen utensils, appliances, etc. One of our long standing jokes/arguments is that I have shit for pots and pans. He LOVES to cook and is very, very talented. Well, when we met, I had one sauce pan, one skillet and a rusty old cookie sheet. He found this hilarious and endearing in the beginning. Cut to two years later and he was FURIOUS every time we cooked at my house and he had to make do with my crappy stuff. One day, I got home and there was a package in my door! I thought, "OOOH! A PRESENT!" It was knives. Steak knives. From Overstock.com. Seriously. He also bought a really nice stock pot and cookie sheet for my house. Oh and wooden spoons. He doesn't cook without wooden spoons. He makes wonderful Stromboli's, the perfect pancake and grill like no other. Though I appreciate all of those things, it was usually just a dig at me for not growing up and getting this type of stuff, not him doing something nice for me. He said it was just a symptom of my reoccurring "Youngest Child Syndrome."
So, the other night I told him that with every paycheck I have been buying one kitchen gadget. I bought some decent skillets, a can opener, a really nice saucepan, etc.
Him, "You have not."
Me, "Yes! I have I swear!"
Him, "Throw that old shit away. Especially that skillet that is uneven and you have to cook everything to the right of the pan."
Me, "I will throw it away."
Him, "No you won't. You don't throw anything away."
Me, "Yes I will!! I swear!"
Him, "I will believe it when I see it."
Me, "When do you think you might see it? Soon?"
Him, "Well, it's 10:00 and we have 6am practice so I gotta run. It was great to talk to you."
Me, "Yeah, you too. Take care. Good luck on Sunday."
Him, "Bye."
Click......
And there, ladies and gentlemen, he handed me my pen.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
100 Things
100 Things
1. I have an overbite and I refuse to have it fixed. I was a thumb sucker.
2. I had a baby when I was 17.
3. That baby, she rocks my world.
4. My parents danced together at their 8th Grade formal. They have been together ever since.
5. I am a horribly jealous person. I wish I wasn't.
6. My grandma smoked and drank till the day she died. She made no apologies for her life.
7. I don't eat hamburger meat. It's more gross than the movie "Hostel."
8. When I was young, I lied..a lot.
9. As an adult, I thought my boyfriend was going to break up with me. I intentionally tried to get pregnant without telling him. Not my proudest few weeks. Thank God it didn't work.
10. Until I was 24, I had long Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman type hair. In the 4th grade, a girl told me that my hair was the only thing that made me pretty. I didn't cut it for 14 years.
11. I am deeply attracted to unavailable men.
12. I had a college cheerleader scholarship. The day I was supposed to visit college for the first time, was the day I found out I was pregnant. So, I decided to go to a local Community College, I gave birth on the day of my English final.
13. When I was 16, I watched Heathers and wrote a fake suicide note. My mother found it and nearly finished the job for me.
14. My sister has never dated a white man, even in high school. She has 3 bi-racial children. They are painfully beautiful.
15. My brother is hot. All my friends used to want to spend the night with me so they could flirt with him.
16. My daughter has a half sister that she doesn't know about.
17. I worry about things to the point of hyperventilation.
18. I have $1.27 in my savings account.
19. I have 8 diaries/journals from my youth and adulthood. I like to pull them out and read them when I'm sad.
20. My daughter has A.D.D.
21. Since the age of 18, I have moved 11 times.
22. I coached cheerleaders for 6 years. My squad won numerous awards.
23. My daughter is a cheerleader and despises it.
24. There's a girl that hates me so much, she has said to others that she would kill me if she thought she wouldn't get caught.
25. I LOVE Pinot Noir.
26. Over the last 3 years I have lost about 70 lbs.
27. My ultimate dream is to open my own cafe'.
28. I work two jobs. I have since my divorce in 1997.
29. I am not afraid to work hard.
30. I have extremely small feet. I save money because I can wear kids Nike Shox.
31. I am afraid of heights. I am paralyzed if I get to far up into bleachers to sit down.
32. The movie "Singles" makes me want to move to Seattle and listen to Pearl Jam all day.
33. I got my dog after my boyfriend broke up with me. Selfish. Yes.
34. I now love my dog more than said boyfriend.
35. I had a cesarean section after 22 hours of labor. I was just a kid and the nurses were mean to me. One said, "Let her be in pain, so it will teach her a lesson." I told the doctor and he didn't believe me.
36. I HATE beer.
37. I sing to my dog. We have duets that my daughter calls our "make out sessions". His name is Sir Cosmopolitan, The Flying Shih Tzu. Well, it's Cosmo anyway.
38. Those two love me unconditionally.
39. I have a good voice. I sang some solos in my high school choir.
40. I am too old for American Idol.
41. I love, love, love mushrooms. I eat them on anything from pizza to eggs to mac and cheese.
42. I have looked through every boyfriend I've ever had's cell phone.
43. I usually would get caught too.
44. I love pointy toed and skinny heeled shoes.
45. Loafers are disgusting.
46. The majority of my friends are under 25.
47. I love to camp. The smell of a campfire is in my top 5 smells.
48. Music is so important to me. I have spent thousands of dollars on it.
49. My top five songs are: The Old Apartment by Barenaked Ladies; Crash by Dave Matthews; I'll Be by Edwin McCain; Better Man by Pearl Jam; Arms of a Woman by Amos Lee.
50. I love oral sex. It's a must with me. And by must, I mean you must be good at it.
51. I love the smell of a man's cologne, it's the little extra effort for me that's so appealing I think.
52. I started reading "He's Just Not That Into You" and about 10 pages in, I threw it in the trash. And I love books.
53. I google everyone. Everyone.
54. I turn golf on TV if I want to nap on the couch.
55. I love fall. The smells and leaves and football. I love pumpkins and mums and Thanksgiving.
56. I'm of French decent and my maiden name is Boucher (pronounced Boo-shay).
57. Though I kept my married name so my daughter and I would have the same last name. My ex husband said it was the sweetest thing I had ever done.
58. It wasn't for him.
59. I saw Norah Jones in concert last year. We had great seats and she had on fantastic red stilettos.
60. I wish I had more male friends. But I tend to end up sleeping with them.
61. I have extremely curly hair and my sisters is even curlier than mine.
62. I have made 5 men cheat.
63. I am not proud of this.
64. Something happened to me in high school, that I can never tell anyone.
65. I worry every minute of every day about getting fat again.
66. My clothes are mainly black. Right down to my lingerie and bathing suit.
67. I love accessories. Dangly earrings, great bags, scarves and bracelets.
68. I think I would have been a good gypsy.
69. I am in a frightening amount of debt.
70. I miss my last boyfriend so much..so much that I miss work sometimes.
71. I drive a Saturn.
72. The payment is more than my weekly paycheck.
73. I have great eyes. Big with lots of long lashes. They are my best feature I think.
74. When I walk in front of a crowd, I suck in my stomach out of habit.
75. Sometimes I think I will never find anyone again. The thought of being alone forever is very real.
76. This thought wakes me up in a sweat at night.
77. I kiss my dog on the face and tell him I love him. My daughter calls me crazy dog lady.
78. I don't think I believe in God. I believe in a higher power and spirituality. But God, the man with the beard that lives in heaven...I don't know if I buy it.
79. I live in the south, and I could NEVER tell anyone number 78.
80. I make terrific spinach artichoke dip. The secret is garlic.
81. I owe my parents $850 right now.
82. I want to be cremated when I die. I don't want anyone to see me and say, "She looks so natural." WTF???!
83. Sometimes, my face turns into it's own private science project. I have dealt with acne for 20 years.
84. I sing in the car really really loud.
85. I was sent home from high school 2 times for "Dressing in a distracting manner." So, I liked Doc Martins with my cheerleader uniform...
86. My last boyfriend is gorgeous. Drop dead. Blue eyes and dimples. Shoulders as broad as a bus.
87. I always felt like I was not his type. And turns out, I wasn't. He is now with a 5'10, 24 year old, blond real estate executive.
88. Days that I don't feel cute...I won't go to the gym.
89. I have had several men say, years later, that I'm the best they ever had.
90. I smile sitting at my desk at work, when I know my house is clean.
91. I am bossy.
92. The thought of my daughter leaving for college in 5 years sends me into a panic attack.
93. I always thought I would have more kids.
94. I am against this war.
95. I have a twisted sense of humor.
96. I fill my house with candles. All cinnamon in the fall and at Christmas time.
97. My daughter sleeps with every stuffed animal she owns so "no one gets their feelings hurt."
98. She has french kissed a boy. She told me 2 weeks ago.
99. Now said boy is dead.
100. Just kidding.
1. I have an overbite and I refuse to have it fixed. I was a thumb sucker.
2. I had a baby when I was 17.
3. That baby, she rocks my world.
4. My parents danced together at their 8th Grade formal. They have been together ever since.
5. I am a horribly jealous person. I wish I wasn't.
6. My grandma smoked and drank till the day she died. She made no apologies for her life.
7. I don't eat hamburger meat. It's more gross than the movie "Hostel."
8. When I was young, I lied..a lot.
9. As an adult, I thought my boyfriend was going to break up with me. I intentionally tried to get pregnant without telling him. Not my proudest few weeks. Thank God it didn't work.
10. Until I was 24, I had long Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman type hair. In the 4th grade, a girl told me that my hair was the only thing that made me pretty. I didn't cut it for 14 years.
11. I am deeply attracted to unavailable men.
12. I had a college cheerleader scholarship. The day I was supposed to visit college for the first time, was the day I found out I was pregnant. So, I decided to go to a local Community College, I gave birth on the day of my English final.
13. When I was 16, I watched Heathers and wrote a fake suicide note. My mother found it and nearly finished the job for me.
14. My sister has never dated a white man, even in high school. She has 3 bi-racial children. They are painfully beautiful.
15. My brother is hot. All my friends used to want to spend the night with me so they could flirt with him.
16. My daughter has a half sister that she doesn't know about.
17. I worry about things to the point of hyperventilation.
18. I have $1.27 in my savings account.
19. I have 8 diaries/journals from my youth and adulthood. I like to pull them out and read them when I'm sad.
20. My daughter has A.D.D.
21. Since the age of 18, I have moved 11 times.
22. I coached cheerleaders for 6 years. My squad won numerous awards.
23. My daughter is a cheerleader and despises it.
24. There's a girl that hates me so much, she has said to others that she would kill me if she thought she wouldn't get caught.
25. I LOVE Pinot Noir.
26. Over the last 3 years I have lost about 70 lbs.
27. My ultimate dream is to open my own cafe'.
28. I work two jobs. I have since my divorce in 1997.
29. I am not afraid to work hard.
30. I have extremely small feet. I save money because I can wear kids Nike Shox.
31. I am afraid of heights. I am paralyzed if I get to far up into bleachers to sit down.
32. The movie "Singles" makes me want to move to Seattle and listen to Pearl Jam all day.
33. I got my dog after my boyfriend broke up with me. Selfish. Yes.
34. I now love my dog more than said boyfriend.
35. I had a cesarean section after 22 hours of labor. I was just a kid and the nurses were mean to me. One said, "Let her be in pain, so it will teach her a lesson." I told the doctor and he didn't believe me.
36. I HATE beer.
37. I sing to my dog. We have duets that my daughter calls our "make out sessions". His name is Sir Cosmopolitan, The Flying Shih Tzu. Well, it's Cosmo anyway.
38. Those two love me unconditionally.
39. I have a good voice. I sang some solos in my high school choir.
40. I am too old for American Idol.
41. I love, love, love mushrooms. I eat them on anything from pizza to eggs to mac and cheese.
42. I have looked through every boyfriend I've ever had's cell phone.
43. I usually would get caught too.
44. I love pointy toed and skinny heeled shoes.
45. Loafers are disgusting.
46. The majority of my friends are under 25.
47. I love to camp. The smell of a campfire is in my top 5 smells.
48. Music is so important to me. I have spent thousands of dollars on it.
49. My top five songs are: The Old Apartment by Barenaked Ladies; Crash by Dave Matthews; I'll Be by Edwin McCain; Better Man by Pearl Jam; Arms of a Woman by Amos Lee.
50. I love oral sex. It's a must with me. And by must, I mean you must be good at it.
51. I love the smell of a man's cologne, it's the little extra effort for me that's so appealing I think.
52. I started reading "He's Just Not That Into You" and about 10 pages in, I threw it in the trash. And I love books.
53. I google everyone. Everyone.
54. I turn golf on TV if I want to nap on the couch.
55. I love fall. The smells and leaves and football. I love pumpkins and mums and Thanksgiving.
56. I'm of French decent and my maiden name is Boucher (pronounced Boo-shay).
57. Though I kept my married name so my daughter and I would have the same last name. My ex husband said it was the sweetest thing I had ever done.
58. It wasn't for him.
59. I saw Norah Jones in concert last year. We had great seats and she had on fantastic red stilettos.
60. I wish I had more male friends. But I tend to end up sleeping with them.
61. I have extremely curly hair and my sisters is even curlier than mine.
62. I have made 5 men cheat.
63. I am not proud of this.
64. Something happened to me in high school, that I can never tell anyone.
65. I worry every minute of every day about getting fat again.
66. My clothes are mainly black. Right down to my lingerie and bathing suit.
67. I love accessories. Dangly earrings, great bags, scarves and bracelets.
68. I think I would have been a good gypsy.
69. I am in a frightening amount of debt.
70. I miss my last boyfriend so much..so much that I miss work sometimes.
71. I drive a Saturn.
72. The payment is more than my weekly paycheck.
73. I have great eyes. Big with lots of long lashes. They are my best feature I think.
74. When I walk in front of a crowd, I suck in my stomach out of habit.
75. Sometimes I think I will never find anyone again. The thought of being alone forever is very real.
76. This thought wakes me up in a sweat at night.
77. I kiss my dog on the face and tell him I love him. My daughter calls me crazy dog lady.
78. I don't think I believe in God. I believe in a higher power and spirituality. But God, the man with the beard that lives in heaven...I don't know if I buy it.
79. I live in the south, and I could NEVER tell anyone number 78.
80. I make terrific spinach artichoke dip. The secret is garlic.
81. I owe my parents $850 right now.
82. I want to be cremated when I die. I don't want anyone to see me and say, "She looks so natural." WTF???!
83. Sometimes, my face turns into it's own private science project. I have dealt with acne for 20 years.
84. I sing in the car really really loud.
85. I was sent home from high school 2 times for "Dressing in a distracting manner." So, I liked Doc Martins with my cheerleader uniform...
86. My last boyfriend is gorgeous. Drop dead. Blue eyes and dimples. Shoulders as broad as a bus.
87. I always felt like I was not his type. And turns out, I wasn't. He is now with a 5'10, 24 year old, blond real estate executive.
88. Days that I don't feel cute...I won't go to the gym.
89. I have had several men say, years later, that I'm the best they ever had.
90. I smile sitting at my desk at work, when I know my house is clean.
91. I am bossy.
92. The thought of my daughter leaving for college in 5 years sends me into a panic attack.
93. I always thought I would have more kids.
94. I am against this war.
95. I have a twisted sense of humor.
96. I fill my house with candles. All cinnamon in the fall and at Christmas time.
97. My daughter sleeps with every stuffed animal she owns so "no one gets their feelings hurt."
98. She has french kissed a boy. She told me 2 weeks ago.
99. Now said boy is dead.
100. Just kidding.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
I know it's totally over-used...but SERIOUSLY
There are many fantastic quotes from past seasons of Grey's Anatomy, of course who can forget vajay-jay or ju-ju but the coining of the phrase "Seriously"..is probably one of the more famous ones. And I am guilty of using it...a lot.
So one more time...SERIOUSLY!
Well, as if life couldn't get any more interesting...my ex husband and his wife look like they are headed for divorce. He's seen a lawyer, she's seen a lawyer. Sides have been chosen and families are ready for war. Granted he left me for her, so way, way, way back in the back of my mind and heart is bitterness. I want to run up to them both and do Grace Adler's mother's "I Told You So" dance. ("I told you so, I told you so, I told, told, told, told you so!") Complete with jazz hands.
But I won't. That would be childish and rude and pointless. But it doesn't stop me from humming it in my head when I see them :)
But jokes aside. I hate this for my daughter and their other kids. I do. They have been together for about ten years. When the bottom fell out of our relationship, my daughter was 2 and Wife Duece had a son who was also 2. We were friends, we were co-workers (we all worked at a restaurant that my ex's family owned.) It seems like it was a million years ago. So much has happened and changed. Ex husband adopted Wife Duece's son and they have one more together.
I wished her death many times (not really, but you know what I mean). I hated her for betraying me. I hated the thought of them together. For several years, it consumed me.
But he and I remained friends for our daughter. Over the years we have become almost, "best" friends. I know that sounds very Sweet Valley High but it's true. I look to him for comfort. He has been my rock through this ordeal with Coach. So I am trying to be there for him now, like he has been for me.
Have I forgotten the night he left? When he ran out on a 21 year old girl and their baby? A girl with a high school diploma, who had put college on hold for him...for their baby. No, I have never forgotten. But I have forgiven. I know that people grow and change, I certainly have. And he has too. It took him about 8 years to finally apologize to me. He broke down and cried and told me how terrible he felt for leaving us. And I forgave him. In my heart, way deep down, I believed him, and I forgave him. Since then, he and I have been different and he is my friend. He is also a WONDERFUL father. So, I'm going to stay out of it and there's a southern saying that "I don't have a dog in this fight." And I don't.
On a different note, I haven't talked to Coach since my birthday. We texted a couple of times with a joke or a question. But nothing earth shattering. And I'm pretty sure he lied to me. Which as far as I know, he has NEVER done before. Coach is an honest person. Sometimes brutally honest. And he told me that his friends were coming in to Cleveland for the Browns/Ravens game and I asked is "she" was meeting his friends and he said no, it was "boys weekend." Well, on her myspace page she is asking a girlfriend of hers if she wants to join her for tailgating for the Browns/Ravens game because she is flying in. I don't want him to know how f*cking pathetic I am and that I look at her page still...so I can't call him out on it. And I shouldn't care, but I do. I guess he was just trying to spare my feelings, which I should be grateful for...but shit, don't lie. I hate that.
Work has been good (I work in an office at a State University). I wish I could make enough not to work 2 jobs (I also waitress at a fine dining restaurant on the weekends) but I have had two jobs since 1997, so I just suck it up and do it.
My dream...my ultimate dream, is to open my own place. A little cafe'. A place to come when it's raining and read or snuggle on a bean bag chair with a hazelnut and toffee cappuccino. At night, I'd have guitar playing locals come in and perhaps sing or just hang out in the background. I'd serve grilled paninis and homemade onion soup. Eventually I would introduce a small but yummy wine list of my favorites and serve pastries on Sundays. It would be a place with mahogany floors and lots of reds and greens and browns. A place to come and meet your grandma for brunch or have a glass of wine with your husband after a long week. I'd host a book club and have people donate their favorite books. I would have shelves and shelves of them. In each book, the person would write on the inside, maybe just their name, but hopefully a little note about what that particular book meant to them. It would be relaxing and easy and become a regular hangout for people. I would have a small staff, hopefully as eccentric as me, and we would all be good friends and even spend holidays together. A name? I have never come up with the perfect name. My daughter's name is Catherine, maybe incorporate that...I don't know. Doesn't that sound like a place you would come?
So one more time...SERIOUSLY!
Well, as if life couldn't get any more interesting...my ex husband and his wife look like they are headed for divorce. He's seen a lawyer, she's seen a lawyer. Sides have been chosen and families are ready for war. Granted he left me for her, so way, way, way back in the back of my mind and heart is bitterness. I want to run up to them both and do Grace Adler's mother's "I Told You So" dance. ("I told you so, I told you so, I told, told, told, told you so!") Complete with jazz hands.
But I won't. That would be childish and rude and pointless. But it doesn't stop me from humming it in my head when I see them :)
But jokes aside. I hate this for my daughter and their other kids. I do. They have been together for about ten years. When the bottom fell out of our relationship, my daughter was 2 and Wife Duece had a son who was also 2. We were friends, we were co-workers (we all worked at a restaurant that my ex's family owned.) It seems like it was a million years ago. So much has happened and changed. Ex husband adopted Wife Duece's son and they have one more together.
I wished her death many times (not really, but you know what I mean). I hated her for betraying me. I hated the thought of them together. For several years, it consumed me.
But he and I remained friends for our daughter. Over the years we have become almost, "best" friends. I know that sounds very Sweet Valley High but it's true. I look to him for comfort. He has been my rock through this ordeal with Coach. So I am trying to be there for him now, like he has been for me.
Have I forgotten the night he left? When he ran out on a 21 year old girl and their baby? A girl with a high school diploma, who had put college on hold for him...for their baby. No, I have never forgotten. But I have forgiven. I know that people grow and change, I certainly have. And he has too. It took him about 8 years to finally apologize to me. He broke down and cried and told me how terrible he felt for leaving us. And I forgave him. In my heart, way deep down, I believed him, and I forgave him. Since then, he and I have been different and he is my friend. He is also a WONDERFUL father. So, I'm going to stay out of it and there's a southern saying that "I don't have a dog in this fight." And I don't.
On a different note, I haven't talked to Coach since my birthday. We texted a couple of times with a joke or a question. But nothing earth shattering. And I'm pretty sure he lied to me. Which as far as I know, he has NEVER done before. Coach is an honest person. Sometimes brutally honest. And he told me that his friends were coming in to Cleveland for the Browns/Ravens game and I asked is "she" was meeting his friends and he said no, it was "boys weekend." Well, on her myspace page she is asking a girlfriend of hers if she wants to join her for tailgating for the Browns/Ravens game because she is flying in. I don't want him to know how f*cking pathetic I am and that I look at her page still...so I can't call him out on it. And I shouldn't care, but I do. I guess he was just trying to spare my feelings, which I should be grateful for...but shit, don't lie. I hate that.
Work has been good (I work in an office at a State University). I wish I could make enough not to work 2 jobs (I also waitress at a fine dining restaurant on the weekends) but I have had two jobs since 1997, so I just suck it up and do it.
My dream...my ultimate dream, is to open my own place. A little cafe'. A place to come when it's raining and read or snuggle on a bean bag chair with a hazelnut and toffee cappuccino. At night, I'd have guitar playing locals come in and perhaps sing or just hang out in the background. I'd serve grilled paninis and homemade onion soup. Eventually I would introduce a small but yummy wine list of my favorites and serve pastries on Sundays. It would be a place with mahogany floors and lots of reds and greens and browns. A place to come and meet your grandma for brunch or have a glass of wine with your husband after a long week. I'd host a book club and have people donate their favorite books. I would have shelves and shelves of them. In each book, the person would write on the inside, maybe just their name, but hopefully a little note about what that particular book meant to them. It would be relaxing and easy and become a regular hangout for people. I would have a small staff, hopefully as eccentric as me, and we would all be good friends and even spend holidays together. A name? I have never come up with the perfect name. My daughter's name is Catherine, maybe incorporate that...I don't know. Doesn't that sound like a place you would come?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Whatever, dude...
That is how I feel about the current situation...whatever, dude. I started receiving texts and MySpace messages, wishing me a Happy Birthday yesterday, about 7a.m. It made me smile, every one of them. The third text I got...was Coach. Wishing me a good one and teasing me about my age. And then about 6:30 last night, I hear "Jane Says" start playing in my purse and my heart skips. It's him. I'm greeted by a large "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and we talked for about 45 minutes. About the weather and family and work. But for the first time, I actually felt BETTER when we got off the phone, instead of worse. I know I have to let him go. I know I do. I just need some time. I need some time to adjust to things like, no nightly phone call before bed and having to say "No" when someone asks if I'm dating someone. It's so hard.
My daughter is 13. She's FANTASTIC. Witty and sarcastic, gorgeous and smart. I don't want her to follow my patterns with men, I want her to find her own way. And if I keep hanging on like this, I am afraid she will think this is the way it's "supposed to be." He runs, I chase. I was married to her Dad for a few years..we are terrific friends. THATS the relationship I hope she takes away.
So I spent my birthday, by myself, made friends with a bottle of Pinot Noir and started reading "Straight Up and Dirty". I sat with my BFF, Sir Cosmo the Flying Shih Tzu...the keeper of many secrets. Just stroking that fluffy little guy makes everything better.
I talked with my Baby Daddy for a little while, he's having his own relationship woes and finally about 10 p.m. I broke down and cried. Cried for being another year older and not feeling any wiser. Cried because my teenage daughter found "more important" things to do than spend my birthday with me. Cried because last year, my birthday was spent bar hopping and having fabulous, drunk sex with Coach in Nashville for the weekend. Cried because my dog would NOT stop throwing up whatever the hell he ate out in the yard. Like I said....whatever, dude.
My daughter is 13. She's FANTASTIC. Witty and sarcastic, gorgeous and smart. I don't want her to follow my patterns with men, I want her to find her own way. And if I keep hanging on like this, I am afraid she will think this is the way it's "supposed to be." He runs, I chase. I was married to her Dad for a few years..we are terrific friends. THATS the relationship I hope she takes away.
So I spent my birthday, by myself, made friends with a bottle of Pinot Noir and started reading "Straight Up and Dirty". I sat with my BFF, Sir Cosmo the Flying Shih Tzu...the keeper of many secrets. Just stroking that fluffy little guy makes everything better.
I talked with my Baby Daddy for a little while, he's having his own relationship woes and finally about 10 p.m. I broke down and cried. Cried for being another year older and not feeling any wiser. Cried because my teenage daughter found "more important" things to do than spend my birthday with me. Cried because last year, my birthday was spent bar hopping and having fabulous, drunk sex with Coach in Nashville for the weekend. Cried because my dog would NOT stop throwing up whatever the hell he ate out in the yard. Like I said....whatever, dude.
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