Wednesday, December 17, 2008


I went to a psychic this weekend. Yep, sure did! I'll be writing about that later today or tomorrow. If you want to know my fate, check back. =)

Done and Buried

I will now admit that yesterday was a very rough day for me. I'm proud of myself for holding it together all day though. I have never felt more hurt, angry, used, foolish, disappointed, or utterly violated as I have felt since yesterday. After work I went to out to dinner with a friend and her fiance and indulged in a few much needed adult beverages ( I rarely drink, especially not during the week!). After dinner, I headed home to call my mama and tell her what had happened with Survivorman. Mamas are always the best consolers, ya know? I let myself cry to her for about 30 minutes and vent about my feelings on all of it. Then I pulled it back together and haven't looked back. As of today, he is dead to me. I've never really understood while people used that term before, but now it makes complete sense. That's the only thing that fits. He is literally dead to me. I may as well have read his name on the casualties list. Sound harsh? Absolutely, and it's exactly how I feel. Now all the energy that I had used praying for his safety and happiness will be redirected to praying that karma kicks his ass real soon. And that's that. Done and buried.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Bye Bye Love

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday I was feeling all sad for Survivorman celebrating his birthday on deployment. Today, I'm not sure if I would even be so kind as to spit on him if he was on fire. I won't go into detail because some things are just too personal. The gist of it is that he sent me an email that said some very shocking things, things that I would have never expected to come from him, things that further indicate that I have no idea who he really is. I am certain now that he has two very distinct, VERY different personalities and that he completely pulled the wool over my eyes. I was a complete fool and not only fell for it, but ate it up like it was nectar from the Gods! I guess I can only thankful that I'm seeing this now instead of later. I can't even imagine how much worse this would feel if we had already gone ahead with the plan of me relocating closer to his base. So anyway, it's done, over with, finito. No more Survivorman. If there is any compassion in life, this whole chapter will be quickly and completely lost from my memory as if it never even happened.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Happy Birthday Survivorman

He's 30 today. It makes me sad that he is celebrating such a milestone birthday so far from home, friends, and family. I tried to make it a little more special for him by sending him a "birthday in a box" with candles, blow out favors, a birthday "lei", a recordable card with me singing happy birthday to him, and some other things. I also sent some home made carrot cake cupcakes (his favorite). I just wanted him to have something like home on his special day and be able to make a birthday wish on his own birthday [cup]cake. I didn't tell anyone that I did that, until now of course, because I'm sure that everyone would think I was crazy, or stupid, or a glutton for punishment, or whatever. I don't care though. I did something special for someone that is special for me and I think that makes me kind, compassionate, and above the tit-for-tat bullshit.
I just hope he got it. They cut off their mail shortly before they are coming home and we are at the point now where he could be home in two weeks (best case scenario, but not likely). I'm not sure how I feel about that. I will be so glad for him to be home so I can stop worrying about his safety every waking moment, but I also dread the nervously sick feeling that I know I'm going to be getting soon, as I wait to see what happens once he's back. I'm pretty much prepared for and expecting the worst, but I've got to see it happen before I can contemplate my next step. Sigh...

So Happy Birthday Survivorman! Hurry home safely.


I learned a very valuable lesson Friday night. Let me tell you about it.

So Friday is casual day at work. That means that we can wear jeans. However, to me it generally means that I get to sleep in a few more minutes, throw on some jeans and whatever semi-casual shirt doesn't require ironing, let my hair air dry on the way to work while I put on minimal makeup with the help of my visor mirror. I'm not proud, but that's usually the way it goes.

Friday afternoon, my dad called to ask me to dinner since I hadn't seen them in a while because of school and my other personal drama that has kept me from feeling social. Of course, I took him up on the offer. Who passes up free dinner from daddy? I had to run a few errands right after work, but agreed to meet up with them shortly after at the restaurant. Ideally, I would have gone home and showered and gotten dressed all over again, but there just wasn't time. But it's just my daddy and my step-mom and they have seen me looking much worse, so I just swing by home to grab a layering jacket and run a brush through my hair. I enjoy a few drinks and a tasty dinner with the parents and head on home. A nice, uneventful affair.

Then comes Saturday. I get an IM on facebook from College Crush. "I saw you at (restaurant) last night." WHAT!?!?!?! Oh my God, what have I done? I thought that I had made it into the clear without running into anyone of importance, when the reality is that I have been secretly spied by hottie-too-hottie College Crush! As I , looking the hot mess that I did, was cramming forkfuls of salad into my mouth and gnawing on steak, he was two booths in front of me... seeing it all. Perfect. I may be creeping back in to the dating scene soon (reluctantly, but what can ya do?) and the #1 lusted after prospect has now seen me well below my best! What have we learned from this episode? ALWAYS look fabulous no matter where you are going or who you are planning to see, because even if you don't see anyone there is no telling who might be seeing you.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

This and That

There hasn't really been much going on lately. Nothing worth blogging about at least. But just to stay up to date, I'll give a run down of what's happened the past week or so.

~ I did drive over two hour to get those boots. I do love them. It was a fun trip. My mom and I took pictures at the Mall of Georgia like we were tourists or country-come-to-town. Note to self: gotta get out more! But it was a silly day and that's what made it fun.

~ I am having the hardest time ever with grad school. Not the work, but the scheduling. I am trying my hardest to finish up this coming summer, but they are not making it easy. None of the classes that I need are being offered on my campus this spring. That leaves me either taking scattered classes at 3 different schools in Georgia next semester OR begging my boss to let me use vacation time once a week so I can haul my ass up Atlanta where the classes are being offered. My hatred of I-285 is another story in itself. I have no idea what to do and it is causing me much stress.... and stress is something that I already have on overstock.

~ I'm trying not to blog about Survivorman, even though the whole point of getting back to blogging was to help me vent. Venting leads to receiving advice and opinions though. While I know that everything everyone tells me is meant to be helpful, it isn't always. A lot of times it's something that I don't want to hear and just makes me feel worse. It's just hard to hear some people's opinions when you know that they don't fully understand the complexity of the situation. But how can they when I can barely fathom it all myself and I'm eyeball deep in it? Either way, I think it's just best to keep my thoughts and feelings on that to myself as much as possible for now. I don't know how long I will be able to hold out on that though because the closer we get to the holidays, the worse it's getting.

~ On a more positive note, I've been asked out a few times the past couple of weeks. I'm not interested of course, but it's flattering and it has helped me realize that life will somehow go on eventually if I don't live happily ever after with him the way I expected. And a little ego boost may have been just what I needed to keep me from spiraling into a Charter Lake commercial.

~ And Operation G. I. Jane is going even better than expected. Eleven pounds down so far! Granted, at least half of that is surely water weight, but hey I'll take it!

Friday, November 14, 2008

The boots were made for walkin'

I'm on a shoe-kick. I've never really been one of those shoe girls, you know the kind I mean, but something has just come over me lately. Now I've always loved shoes, don't get me wrong! But while I can appreciate the fashion contributions that shoes make, I'm one of those gasp! "comfort comes first" girls. I'm a flip-floper at heart. I will sport a flip-flop whenever there is even a hint of being able to get away with it, regardless of weather. Also I'm a tall girl, so most of the cute footwear I find has too much heel for me. I know that they say embrace your height, but I just don't need an additional 4 inches to stilt me up so I can tower over people any more than necessary. Throw in the fact that I was cursed with wide feet and my shoe rack is just doomed.

That being said, when I find a shoe that I love, I snatch it up. I made a trip to the next town over last night to look for a pair that I have been scouting out. I didn't find them, but I did come home with 2 other pair that I hadn't planned on. Tonight I will try yet another store to find the elusive taupe mary jane that I have in my sights.

But the biggest search by far will finally end tomorrow. I have been in the market for the perfect pair of black boots for YEARS now. I've caved and had a couple of pairs of "getting by" boots, but nothing that I have loved. Well, I found my perfect boot about a month ago. The perfect boot that just makes you feel warm and tingly when you try them on. Great, right? Well of course they didn't have my size. That's just the kind of luck that I have. However, I was assured on multiple occasions by various sales persons that the item was an automatic reorder and they would be getting more in. I have checked back twice a week since then on the days that they get their shipments. Have my boots come in yet? What do you think?! I have tried the store's website, the designer's website, and every overstock/discontinue website imaginable! I've even tried ebay. The boot does not exist online. Anywhere. And if the staff at said store refer me to the website again one more time, as if I'm an elderly woman who doesn't know about the "internets" and hasn't thought to check there already, I may take their headset and shove it up their ass. I'm just saying. Well after being patient and getting no results from it, I decided that I must take action. The perfect boot does not come along often. So tomorrow my mom and I are taking a road trip. I'm driving an hour and a half to a store in Atlanta to pick up my Kenneth Cole beauties. Is that sad? Is that crazy? The answer to both of those questions may be yes, but they way I figure it... it's keeping me busy for a Saturday that I would otherwise spend being sad and lonely and thinking about him AND I am going to have my boots to help me feel all fierce and fabulous when/if I see him again. In the words of Martha, "it's a good thing".

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Fatty McButterpants

So after a couple of weeks of not being able to eat anything or keep anything down without being sick gotta love the heartbreak diet! , I bounced back and have successfully eaten everything that comes within reach. You know what they say, eating my feelings, filling a void and what-not. Well the void is filled alright... and is now overflowing onto the rest of my body. It hit me like a brick wall when looking at pictures from the recent baby shower. What a difference a two or three weeks can make when you are just shoveling it in! I am too ashamed to even admit how many pounds I gained just last week alone. It's time to crawl out of my funk and get my fat ass motivated. And you can bet that is exactly what I am about to do.

Am I a little concerned about the holidays coming up? Sure, a little. We all know that holidays are full of gluttonous temptation. And I will certainly want to eat my feelings, covered in gravy of course, when I start thinking about the Christmas and birthday celebrations that Survivorman and I were planning to make up after he comes home and that fact that he is so far away during such a special time. But I will NOT be deterred! I am turning 30 in 2.5 months and I vow to be down 40 lbs by then. I am not even kidding. I have done it before, so I know it can be done. I know that running and an extremely no-fun diet is the only thing that makes the pounds fall off for me, so that's what it's going to be for the next 10 weeks. I have kind of been inspired by the Navy Seal Fitness Challenge that is coming to Atlanta ( I'm not ready for it this year, but I have always wanted to do something like that so I'm going to use their standards as my fitness goal so I can be prepped for next year, hoo rah! This is going to require some weight training as well, so I'm excited to see how that goes. I plan to start on Saturday because it's the 15th and I just do better mentally when I start at a clear breaking point. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to rent G.I. Jane this weekend to get myself pumped. For some reason that movie (especially the scene where Demi is working out hard core by herself and she is all ripped and girl-power-awesome) always makes me feel like doing push-ups. Does anyone else get that?

I'll be updating on this over the next few months for sure!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

You can say that again...

A friend sent me a quote today because she thought of me when she read it. I laughed at first at how appropriate it was for me, then I read it over and over and ended up tearing up at my desk.

"Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering."

~ Paulo Coehlo

It couldn't be more fitting for my current situation. I think Paulo was reading my mind when he uttered those words. Don't you just love it when you find something that that rings so true to your real life? It makes you realize that you are not the first person to go through what you are going through, even though it may feel like it most of the time. There's a certain kind of comfort found in that.

Thanks L!

Happy Veteran's Day!

I love Patriotic holidays. They are my favorite, always have been (July 4th is my all time fave). No family drama, no hectic schedules, no bankrupt piggy banks, none of the typical holiday stress. On patriotic holidays there is only pride, gratefulness, and remembrance. It just fills my heart and makes me proud to be an American as cliche as that may sound. So be sure to thank a veteran today.

I did... thank a veteran that is. I just couldn't keep myself from sending some thanks to Survivorman, my favorite serviceman. I did so against the advice of a couple of members of my "council", but at least my mom supported my decision. I know it completely breaks my rule of limited contact right now, but it just felt like the right thing to do. Regardless of what's going on between us regarding our relationship, he is still the most important man in my life and he is a career serviceman who holds immense pride in his job. It just didn't feel right now to acknowledge that and give him some thanks. I understand why I was given the advice that I was given and will get more of I'm sure, and I see the other side of it. Really, I DO! But I've never been very good at "the game" and I prefer to just do and say what feels right at the time and not acknowledging his service to our country on Veteran's day... well that's just not me. So I did what I did, but I'm proud of myself for making sure that it was clear that my thanks today was a completely separate issue from the conversations regarding "us" or lack thereof.

So anyway, Happy Veteran's Day! I love this famous picture from VJ Day. It just embodies all the warm fuzzy patriotic feelings that I have on holidays like this.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Fighting the urge

Today is a rough day for some reason. I'm overly emotional for a multitude of reasons and that is just leading to stupidity and weakness. I want to email Survivorman so bad! It's taking everything I have to keep myself from actually doing it. I haven't heard from him since last Wednesday when he completely pissed off. Then things were happening this weekend that made me wish I could just call him as if he were back home. I just want to talk to him and hear his voice more than anything in the world. BUT. I can not allow myself to cave just yet. I need to give it some time for him to realize just how much space he has and how it feels. Easier said than done though. God give me strength... that's all I can say.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Oh baby!

I'm still pissed. It has now died down to just a slow simmer though. I've been too busy today to even think about it for longer than five minutes really. My cousin's baby shower is tomorrow and I've been running around like a wild woman for the past 24 hours trying to get everything done. I'm not complaining... busy is good. Plus it has been lots of fun to plan and has done a good job of putting me in a happy place you can't help but go to a happy place when purchasing infant sunglasses and bunny slippers!. Who can be sad when you are looking at baby stuff!? Well, I admit that I have had momentary lapses into melancholy when certain things have reminded me of the family talk that Survivorman and I had on multiple occasions, but they have been short lived. I'm really excited about this baby! My and cousin and I have always been very very close, so this little princess that's on her way kind of feels like a pseudo-niece. And the closer it gets to her arrival, the more exciting it gets. I think she somehow knows that she is doing her cousin B a solid by scheduling her arrival at the same time that Survivorman is set to return home. Because of that, I will have happy things to look forward to the whole time that I am waiting/dreading/anticipating his homecoming. I can just think about her sweet little baby feet and how precious she is going to feel when I get to hold her and... BAM!, instant puppies and rainbows. Only two more months until our family tree grows a little bit more. I can't wait to meet her and steal baby kisses!

Thursday, November 6, 2008

F*ck you and the white horse you rode in on....

That's my mindset today. I know myself well enough to know that it won't last long at least I'm honest, but I'm enjoying it while it's here. Survivorman pissed me off so bad yesterday that the longer it fermented, the more angry I got. Can you even imagine being so mad at someone that you can feel steam coming from your ears but still breaking down into tears while praying for his safety at the end of the day? Nothing makes sense anymore. Up is down and right is left. I found myself in an online group last night seeking advice on how to deal with the Jekyll and Hyde effect that some servicemen succumb to Loser much?...yeah I know. It actually did help to talk to some servicemen in the 40's and 50's who admitted to that behavior themselves in their younger years. It also helped cheer my up to go shopping. I've become a reluctant fan of retail therapy in the past month. It's bad news for my bank account, but it just does the trick sometimes. You can't feel crappy when you're feeling cute surrounded by new things that don't remind you of him in the dressing room, ya know. It's the retail version of the warm fuzzies.

So here I sit... with a chip on my shoulder and f*ck you in my pocket. And you can bet that I'm going to ride this out as long as I can stretch it because this anger damn sure feels better than the alternative.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

God Give Me Strength

God, give me the strength to bite my tongue and silently support this man while he is away at war, even though all I want to do right now is smack him in the face and rip his testicles out through his throat. Amen.

Survivorman has made the past week exceptionally rough for me. I've gotten to the point where I dread to see his name pop up on an email because I know that it will just stir the emotional pot. Just since last Thursday, there have been lows, there have been highs, and there have been lows again. Today is a low. Today is lower than low. I'm sad and upset, but I've gotten used to that. What makes today different is that I'm pissed. I mean really pissed, completely livid. Today's "conversation" with him has made me second guess everything. It's like I don't even know him. I feel like I've never even met this person that is talking to me. It breaks my heart and it drives me f'ing batty at the same time. How can you hate someone and love someone so much at the same time? How do those two things co-exist so closely? I feel like I'm dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There is home time Survivorman and deployment time Survivorman and the two are night and day. I showed the most anger I ever have with him today and even it was mild. It consisted of a "don't you dare" warning. Pretty tame...pretty lame. As mad as I am at him today, I still can't yell or say anything hateful. All that I can think of is what if something happened to him tonight and the last thing I wrote to him was something mean and I never get the chance to take it back or make it better. It would kill me. So I'm asking God for strength... and guidance... because Lord knows I need it.

Friday, October 31, 2008

It's the little things

I need to move to Pluto, move into a plastic bubble, be put into an induced coma, something, anything. I can't go five minutes without seeing or hearing something that reminds me of Survivorman. I know that everyone goes through something similar after break-ups, but this is like nothing I've ever experienced. It's just unfathomable the number of things that are tainted and painful now because I associate them with him. Don't believe me? Here are some things from just the past week:

- camouflage
- Elvis
- Florida
- Chevy pick up trucks
- Aqua di Gio
- Dolce & Gabbana
- ice
- my own dog
- flowers and ferns
- my treadmill
- chicken pot pie
- ski ball
- the war
- chocolate chip cookies
- Army Wives (one of my favorite shows)
- my hair comb
- the TV remote
- chicken wings
- wine
- littering
- the magnets on my fridge
- Pearl Jam
- strawberries
- Stone Mountain
- Carraba's
- The Stack
- American flags
- Snoopy
- trash bags
- Orbit gum
- my lip balm
- my cell phone
- half of my wardrobe
- the shower head
- Barnes & Noble
- Best Buy
- the light bulbs in my bathroom
- my smoke detector
- Northface merchandise
- magazines
- Coke zero
- the back road to my mom's house
- Savannah
- my shampoo and conditioner
- the spare key on my counter
- I could go on and on.....

Will it ever stop or am I really going to have to put myself in isolation?
Halloween is supposed to be all about fun and I just can't get on board. I've heard that if you force yourself to smile then your body releases endorphins or something and it helps to actually cheer you up, but it's not working. All I can think about is how blissfully ignorant I was when this month started. I have a Halloween party to go to tonight and I had to throw a costume together last night because the costume that I pre-ordered was sort of a tribute to Survivorman. It's a sexy-ish female version of his specific military branch's uniform. I was thinking of going ahead with it anyway until I got another email from him yesterday (more on that later.... it's another story in itself). Now, I just don't think I could manage to wear it without crying throughout the entire party. My dog is going too, it's a pet friendly party, and he's still going to wear the costume that I got him. His costume is actually what inspired me to order something to match. We were both going to dress up like Survivorman and send him pictures so he would know that he was missed for the holiday. It's too late to get him anything else at this point, so he's going as planned. Plus, he's just too cute in the costume to not put it on him. Yes, I dress my dog up for Halloween - deal with it. I'll probably tear up when I put it on him because it will just remind me of my plans, but I'll manage. That makes me think of that saying, "If you want to make God laugh, make plans." So true. I'm debating sending a picture of my dog to Survivorman anyway. They kind of became best buds and I think he might like to laugh at him in his get-up. But I'm not sure if it's a good idea or not. Hmm.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


I've been feeling a little sluggish lately. Could it be a result of the bad breakup diet when you lose weight drastically at first because you can't eat and your crying so hard that it makes you vomit all the time, then you bounce back and drown your sorrows in fast food and vending machine love? Perhaps. Either way, I just haven't been feeling good. My hippy co-worker suggested a 3 day juice cleanse. I've never successfully completed a juice cleanse before, so I was a little apprehensive. But it's all natural, organic, probiotic fruit and vegetable juices and it's supposed to make you feel refreshed and rejuvenated as it cleanses your digestive system and boosts your immune system. What the heck, I'll give it a shot. If I'm miserable from gnawing hunger at least I won't be thinking about the other stuff for a while, right? Sounds like a plan to me.

I'm closing in on the end of day 2 and I gotta say... I don't hate it. I haven't felt weak, hungry, grumpy, or light headed. I'm actually feeling pretty darn good! Tomorrow will be the real test, but I figure if I've made it more than half way already I can go the distance. If I'm still feeling good by Friday morning, I may do another round of juicing in a week or so. I'm going to a junk food infested Halloween party Friday though. I wonder if all of my good work will be null and void after I consume a buch of preservatives and refined sugar. Eh, who cares. I'm feeling good now and that's all that matters.

The Cookies and The Council

Survivorman emailed me yesterday for the first time in two weeks. He was thanking me for the kick ass care package that I sent him. Somehow I managed to send homemade chocolate chip cookies that didn't melt or crumble on their trip to the middle east and he said they were a big hit with his buddies. I knew they would be. Part of me had been visualizing him opening up his care package in front of his friends and all of them asking him who was the wonderful girl who could mix homemade goodies, sports equipment, toys for the kid at heart, porn for the man at heart, and sentimental gushy stuff all in one box... thereby triggering him to think, "she is the most wonderful girl I've ever known, what the hell am I thinking?"

Yeah, so I guess that didn't exactly happen like I had envisioned. He mentioned the cookies and he mentioned the porn. Did he mention anything that I mentioned in my letter? No. Did he mention how he felt about the journal that I had started for him and written in for the first two weeks until he dropped the bomb? No. Did he mention the pictures I sent? No. It was the worst email I have ever gotten, even worse than the email in which he slammed the breaks on our relationship while going 90 mph. It was like he was writing to a stranger. The message could have honestly been penned to a random supportive citizen that sent a generic care package to the troops. I can't even begin to describe the pain I felt knowing that someone who means the world to me could so quickly change his tone. It's like he's trying to forget that I ever even existed as a person of importance to him. Needless to say, yesterday was a rough day.

After consulting with my Venting Council (aka two girl friends, two guy friends, and my mom), I still did not have any clear advice. The men of the council only offered several profanities toward him, told me I deserved better, and that I should tell him never to contact me again. I question their opinions though because they could just be acting protective of a good friend or they could be waiting to ask me out themselves I'm not being conceited here, they've just both tried to win me over in the past.The women of the council still think there is something up with him that may have to do with his excessive emotional baggage (in the words of Dirty Red... more baggage than a 747 - if you don't know who Dirty Red is just continue). They think that there is something else going on that he just can't or hasn't explained to me. They still think that I need to just be patient and supportive and wait it out until he is home again. A huge part of me thinks that too. I really don't have any other choice. It's not as if I can move on and just forget about him anyway, especially while he is still deployed. It sucks for me, but it's the burden I must bear if I want to make it easiest for him right now. Maybe I'm just setting myself up for more hurt later, maybe. But as long as I think that there may be something else causing this I don't see how I could live with myself if I didn't stick around for him a little longer. So now I'm just going to put away all of these feelings in a safe little drawer for the time being and get through the next 3 months as best I can. There is no telling what I might ramble on about to keep my mind off of things as I'm isolated in Limbo.

Monday, October 27, 2008

True Lovin' in Limbo (population: me)

I've had some life-changing experiences during my absence. This summer was the happiest summer of my life. I met someone... not just someone, but THE someone. The someone that makes you forget all about every other person that came before them, as if you were just waiting alone all this time for him to come along. We'll call him "Survivorman". It was the most unbelievable whirlwind romance ever. We went from zero to super serious in about 2.2 seconds. He's the most wonderful person I've ever met. He's smart, strong, funny, sensitive, adorably handsome, as tall as they come, outgoing and shy at the same time, as big of a neat freak as me, has a green thumb, knows the importance of giving flowers, and loves my dog as much as I do. I love absolutely everything about him. I swear it's like we were custom made just for each other. It's the most serious relationship I've ever had. We've talked in depth about marriage, children, how we would raise our children, our preferences in home styles, the idea of relocation, the challenges of a military marriage, what it would be like for me as a military wife, every fear, every doubt, every belief... you name it, we've discussed it. I've never moved so fast with anyone (FYI, I'm a very guarded person!), but nothing I've ever done has ever felt so right. You know how the people who are living happily-ever-after always say that when you meet "the one" you'll just know. Well I just knew. I KNEW! If I've ever known anything, I KNEW that he was the one. No questions asked. I, Princess Prudence-and-responsibility, would not have thought twice before running off to the courthouse to marry him before he left... without telling my family first, without the white dress and the pretty bouquet...I was ready for anything as long as it was with him.

Then he deployed.

And two weeks later he ripped my world out from underneath me. Something happened. The worst part is that I don't know exactly what happened and I have no clue now where we are or what we are doing. It's the most complicated situation I've ever dealt with. There are so many things that he is dealing with right now (aka A LOT of baggage) that I can't even begin to understand... on top of being on his second deployment this year alone. I love him too much to be angry, but I am having just about every other emotion in the book. I'm hurt, confused, shocked, clueless, sad for him, sad for us, hopeful, hopeless, insecure, optimistic, compassionate, jaded, determined and worried about his safety to boot! Can you even imagine what it is like to have all of those things going on inside your head all at the same time? I'm teetering on the edge to say the least. I don't think I'll really know what's going to happen until he comes home in 2-3 months and we can see each other face to face and talk. Until then, I want to give him space, but I can't give up on him either. I'm in limbo. Limbo is like purgatory. Limbo is like a band aid that you can't leave alone, but you can't rip it off quickly either... it's a slow, persistent, endless sting tugging at your skin and ripping at the tiniest hairs. Limbo sucks.

So that's why I'm back. Spilling my ugly guts to faceless internet people, because they are cheaper than a real therapist. I'm just trying to get by one day at a time without completely losing it and if venting on this pointless blog helps to keep me from falling apart, then so be it. Just don't judge. I have too many things going on in my head already to worry about pride or embarrassment, so it is what it is.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Bumps in the Road

Ahhh, my blog.... hello old friend. It's been awhile.

I originally entered the blog sphere because writing is so therapeutic for me, but apparently I don't feel the need for the therapy when I'm blissfully happy and everything is sunny side up. That would explain my long absence. It's great when everything seems perfect and you feel like you're just coasting through life with the windows down and your favorite song on the radio. It's so great that you don't want to pull over to write about the ride, you just want to keep riding as long as you can. Besides, who wants to read about that when there is no drama, no intrigue, no confusion, nothing so sucky that it makes you feel better about your own trip?

Well, I've hit a road block, ran out of gas, encountered a slow construction zone, have a flat, the engine's making a funny noise. Whatever you want to call it, drama, intrigue, confusion, and good old fashion suckiness abound! That being said, The Dandelion Chronicles may see some activity in the very near future. It looks like I may be returning to rant, rave, pout, fester and just vent in general. I think it's time to put blog therapy to the test!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Yielding... Again

I'm now in the market for a strong man to assist me in removing a public traffic sign. It happened again. I had to yield to Scuba Steve this morning. To make it worse, traffic was too congested to go around him on the interstate or to fall back and create some distance... so I had to ride directly behind him for the majority of the commute to work. At least I was a little more pulled together this time. My hair was dry and fixed and the only makeup I was still lacking was mascara, which I was in the process of applying (thank God for something to occupy my eyes so I didn't have to stare into his rear view mirror the whole time). Why am I running into him so often on the road now!? Part of me is glad for the run in because at least it lets me know that he is ok and still in town, but it couldn't be a worse time for me to have to see him (for many many reason that I won't go into here). I had myself faked out for a long time that I was all healed up from the extensive damage that he left behind (and I am a little), but I don't think that I'm ever going to be completely "ok" with him. Sometimes I think that moving out of this town would eliminate the stomach-dropping moments when our paths cross, but I have a feeling that no matter where I go fate would find a way to rub salt in the wound. For now, I think the most simple plan of action is to remove that damn Yield sign!

Friday, April 18, 2008

Random Act of Kindness

I left the office for lunch earlier in quite a grumpy mood due to a ridiculous conversation with my supervisor (just another episode that illustrates how much I hate this place). Well I head out to run a few errands and on my way back I swing into a fast food joint to grad some grub to bring back to my desk. Well I'm still kind of fuming over the work drama and I was getting irritated with the slow service in front of me, as the cashier at the "pay here" window seemed to be taking a break to chit-chat with the customer in front of me. I'm sure I was wearing a brow-furrowing scowl... when the most unexpected thing happened. I pull up to the window to pay and the cashier girl leans out, hands me a receipt, and tells me that I don't have to pay for my meal. The look of confusion on my face was probably priceless. Crazy off-the-wall ideas were rolling around in my head in that instant as possible explanations as to why she didn't want my money. Then she looks at the "pick up" window ahead of me and breaks into a huge grin (with her two brown teeth shining, bless her heart) as she tells me that the gentleman in the car in front of me has bought my lunch! She goes on to explain that he said he was a deputy sheriff from a neighboring county and he believes that if you do good things, good things will come your way. So he wanted to buy my lunch as a random act of kindness and ask me to pass the goodwill along to someone else. How touching is that!? It was like my own little "pay it forward" experience from a complete stranger. It completely changed my outlook for the day and now I'm in such a calm mood. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy, like a hug from the inside! I can't stop thinking about what I can do for someone now to pass it along and make their day just like that gentleman did for me. Maybe if enough of us start doing that, it will catch on.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Yielding to my past

Damn traffic laws. Scuba Steve and I have lived within a quarter of a mile from each other for atleast the past three years. Currently, he lives in the very next apartment complex down the road. Yet in all that time, I can probably count on one hand the number of times that we have encountered each other while driving in our area (even when we were still together). It has been so long since I've seen him that I wasn't even sure if he drives the same car or even if he is still living in the same apartment. Well, he does and he is. As I was hurringly trying to turn onto the interstate on-ramp, I found myself having to yield to a vehicle turning onto the on-ramp from the opposite direction (and having the right of way). As I squint isn't that always a great look for everyone I notice that the vehicle I am yielding too looks oddly familliar. And as the sun stops blinding me from the reflection off the windshield, I can clearly see that it is Scuba Steve looking back at me as he pulls right past. What does the world have against me? Of all mornings to have that encounter! I was running super late this morning so I my hair was still half wet, I had on no makeup, was chewing on my breakfast bar, and my face probably looked like I just woke up yeah, I'm that girl that finishes getting ready while driving in to work. Not to mention that I just have not been looking my best lately (see the aforementioned "funk"). I had to follow him on the interstate all the way downtown, but I was sure to slow my roll a bit so as to keep a safe distance behind him so he couldn't get a better look at the mess in the driver's seat of my car. I know that ultimately it shouldn't matter how I look when he sees me because we are not getting back together and he should be just like any other stranger to me by now, but it's different. Every girl knows that you want to look awesome when you see your ex, better than you ever looked when he had you, ya know? And this morning I probably looked like a squinty faced trailer park chick... not the look I was going for for the ex viewing. Stupid yield sign. I think it may have been worth the traffic violation to have cut him off, sped ahead on my merry way, and avoided the situation all together. Lesson learned- wake up 45 minutes early each day and make sure I'm looking fabulous before walking out the door!

Monday, April 14, 2008

Do nice guys finish last?

Ok, so last fall I started seeing a really nice guy. We went to college together, but we never even met back then. We were set up by a mutual friend: his fraternity brother and a guy who I briefly dated in college (a true nice guy himself). Therefore, I wasn't exactly shocked when I figured out that the man I was set up with was suffering from extreme "nice guy" syndrome. If you are not familiar with the ailment, consider yourself a lucky girl... it's not the dream that it may seem to be. Let me paint a picture for you.

Beaver Cleaver and I got to know each other by phone for several weeks before going out on our first date. Before we ever even went out, I had to actually tell him to "stop being a girl". Now I have told men that before, but I was either joking or picking on them. I've never had to seriously have the "stop being a girl" conversation until then. Now, in hindsight, I sympathize with some of my ex-boyfriends who had to deal with me when I was acting like that (now I know better and will be a better girlfriend for it!). Beaver Cleaver was perceptive to my request though and things started to look up. When we finally went out on our first date, things were looking good. I thought he was cute and we had a nice time and the conversation was easy. I just wasn't sure if there was a spark there. But I was honest about it with him and we decided to try a second date and see what happened. The date itself was lots of fun, but the vibe was weird. At some points it was extremely comfy like we had been dating for a long time, and at other points it felt like an awkward middle school dance. I kinda gave up on him after that.

Then I had some seriously bad dates with some seriously bad men. I started to wonder what was wrong with a man that seemed too nice? Nice is a good thing right? Better to go for a man that is too nice rather than a man that is too mean, don't ya think? Besides... I couldn't ever quite get Beaver Cleaver out of my head and he was still persistent with his interest in me. So we went for date 3, probably about six months after we started this whole thing. And it was goooood! It just seemed like whatever was missing finally clicked. He was even giving me the anxious/nervous butterflies! I didn't want it to end... but it did come to end when he had to start his drive home. And that's when it all headed back downhill. So after six months of getting to know each other and three official dates a girl expects the man to have made his first move. Not Beaver Cleaver. Still. No. Kiss. Are you f-ing kidding me? I set him up with opportunities all day long! On Friends, the girls are sleeping with guys by date three. On Sex & the City, the girls are dumping the fellas by date three. And I can't even get him to make a move to hold my hand. Gee Beav! It's a sad day in Singleville. To top it off, he waited for me to initiate the goodbye hug (props to him though because he's a really good hugger) and then he asked permission to call me. Now I'm all for chivalry and manners and yes, please-thank-you-ma'am southern boys, but come on! I brushed it off as a lost cause for a few weeks, but now I am beginning to question if maybe he is worth staying the course. I like him a lot, but his extreme nice guy behavior makes me feel like a hooker for wishing he wasn't quite such a slow mover. He's just soooo "good" that I'm beginning to wonder if he will ever want to be "bad" with me if we continued to date.

Do nice guys really finish last? Maybe they do, maybe they don't. Maybe it just appears that the do because the move at a snail's pace...

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Morals, don't fail me now!

Oh. My. God. I am having quite an internal struggle at the moment. A certain available gentleman from the past continues to tempt me into undeniably immoral behavior and tonight he strikes again. College Crush and I had a brief drunken make-out session in the middle of Capital Shitty years ago. Unfortunately, I was past the point of fun-drunk and well into amnesia-drunk so I don't actually remember enough details to fully enjoy it. He's soooo cute and so definitely out of my league that he makes me unbelievably nervous! The last time I saw him I was an idiot stumbling over my words all 5 of them that I was able to stammer out while looking at the ground instead of him! We've continued to flirt every now and then because he knows that I crush on him hard of course I know that nothing would ever come of it but the flirting has definitely increased in the past year since he now lives in the subdivision directly across the street (ya know, convenience and all). And since College Crush knows that I am experiencing quite a "drought" since Scuba Steve, I think he takes pleasure in making me squirm when he offers his services. And DAMN do I ever want to sample his services! But something inside me just won't let me do it and sometimes I wish that something would just shut the hell up! Not that I don't have my fair share of moral demerits from the past, but its one things to do something carefree when you are college and can blame it on youthful ignorance and quite something else when you are supposed to be a responsible adult who knows better. I mean, I KNOW it would be worth it, but I also know that I'm looking for more now than just temporary physical satisfaction but ohhhh how satisfying he would be. It is so bittersweet every time he makes his sexy little propositions. One one hand, it makes me grin from ear to ear like a giddy little school girl, but on the other hand it kills me to have to make the personal decision not to give in to that. I just pray that my morals continue to be strong enough to hold me back, but in the meantime I will just enjoy the swarm of butterflies I feel inside every time I hear from College Crush. (Swoon....)

A case of "the funk"

It's obvious that I haven't written anything in a while. I've been in a bit of a funk and writing about it just hasn't been appealing. I think it all started with the message from Scuba Steve and then everything else just really started to cave in on top of it. Long story short... I'm now officially the last child-less woman out of all of my high school friends and it's making me question my life choices. I am completely burnt out with grad school and I'm beginning to question my decision to get an MBA rather than a masters in education. As a matter of fact I have begun to question grad school altogether because I feel as if I have no time for a real life off of campus! I thought by my age I would have some insight into men and what exactly I am looking for but it appears that I am more clueless than ever. And last but certainly not least, I work in the most miserable office ever where I feel trapped bc of the tuition benefit and the unhappiness that that place embeds in me is starting to roll over into every other aspect of my life (I should never have taken the new job, regardless of the promotion or salary increase). So for the past month all I have been able to do is question my decisions and dwell on all the things in my life right now that are NOT how I want them to be. It has left my head spinning to say the least. But I've made some decisions that are enabling me to see the light at the end of the tunnel! I feel like I'm going to be back to my old self soon. Thank you baby Jesus, thank you Oprah Winfrey. One of the recent decisions is that I'm officially job hunting, an undertaking that is slightly discouraging considering my geographical location, but I'm optimistic nonetheless! It's amazing the weight that has lifted off of my shoulders just by deciding to look for a new job. So now that I have a road map albeit still a little blurry to get my life back on the track that I want it to be on, I should be in a better mood for blogging. And hopefully I will soon have lots of new things to blog about as I put some of these changes into place. It all reminds me of one of my favorite sayings from childhood... there is nothing standing in my way except air and opportunity!

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Should have known...

Today would have marked three whole months since cutting off all communication with him. Is it crazy that I keep track of that? Well, I do. It may sound odd, but it helped me at first. I was very proud of myself when I would make it another week without yielding to the temptation to check in on him. Last week I realized that I was about to reach the three-month mark and it felt so good! If you’ve read my most recent post regarding him, then you know what I mean when I say that I think it was good for me not having any contact with him. Well, his birthday was this week. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. I knew it was coming and I actually had to seriously contemplate where or not I was going to acknowledge it. I had always made a huge deal about his birthday. Should I break the embargo for a special occasion? But then again, birthdays are only special occasions when they are for special people in your life, right? So, I think I made the right decision to just let it pass.

Well, I should have known... I guess he was expecting me to remember, because who do I hear from the very next day? Yep, that’s right. He broke the silence himself by sending me a message. How have you been?… how’s the dog?…I’m officially old now…where’d the time go?… ready for Easter?… blah…blah…blah. What was the point of that? Did he think that the only reason he hadn’t heard from me was because I had forgotten and that if he casually reminded me I would gush with “Happy Belated”s for him? Or maybe it was just a way of rubbing in that he was celebrating his special occasions with his new girlfriend now. If I had to guess I would say that he just did it in an effort to bring himself to the front of my mind again once he saw that I wasn’t thinking of him everyday anymore, not even on his birthday. That’s his MO. I know it well. Sadly, I have to admit that it worked a little bit. As evidenced by this blog, I’ve been thinking about him and that stupid message for three days now. He had to go and pull his “nice guy” routine. I hate him for that. It’s so much easier not to think about him when he is just blatantly being an ass. But I am proud to say as I take a moment to pat myself on the back that I did not reply to him. And the fact that I didn’t take that wide-open opportunity to talk to him makes me feel about as strong as a recovering crack head flushing his own stash. Yay me!

Monday, March 3, 2008

A Letter To My Younger Self

If I could write a letter to the me that existed 10 years ago, it would go something like this:

Dear Me,

You just finished your first semester of college and you may think you have an idea of how the rest of your college experience will go, but you don't. It's good now, but it's going to get so much better!

Don't get too freaked out about your roommate next year, it's only temporary. You'll get that room change in a couple of weeks, just wait it out.

Pick a major and just stick with it! Choose something that sends you out of college with a set occupation, like nursing or education. You aren't going to go to law school like you think because you end up realizing that you would hate it, so don't waste your time on the pre-law stuff. You will regret the political science degree later. What the hell does anyone do with a political science degree?!

When you go out on the bad date with the Mazzy Star guy with the scar, DO NOT go to Mr. Blue Velvet's* apartment afterwards. It's a horrible idea. It will end VERY badly. Just go home. That's all I can say.

Don't go on the trip to Birmingham. Don't even waste the money on the football tickets because you won't end up at the game. What you least expect to happen, will happen on that trip. It will crush you, but you'll be ok soon. (You may want to get your car checked before you head up to JV's * house. It will save you some embarrassment later. On second thought, that ends up as a pretty funny story that you will remember forever. Don't get the car checked.)

When you are writing the letter to JV after the new girl moves in, don't include the witty little "add dick and stir" snippet that Binion came up with. It might make you feel better for a moment, but she will read it and it will cause problems for years to come. Y'all remain friends but because she hates you now, he will always have to sneak around to keep in touch. Just leave that comment out, trust me.

Don't move home that semester to commute. You will hate it and you'll miss out on a lot of fun. You can't be in the same house as your step-mother that long. Don't even try it. It will also cause big problems between you and St. Jude*. You end up moving back in the middle of the year anyway.

Speaking of St. Jude, don't invest so much time into him. He's a compulsive liar and he won't change for a long time. You can't fix him. He is never faithful to you, not even in the beginning. He knows what he is doing to you and he'll apologize for it years later, but that apology will not get you those years back. You'll have a fight when it snows. Let that fight be the end of it for good.

More about St. Jude... don't go all that way for a drive-by just to see if he's telling you the truth about being at his parents that night. On the way back there will be a deer in the road and you won't see it because of your tears. It results in a bad wreck and a mexican car. Just don't go. And no, he is not at his parent's house that night. Remember... compulsive liar!

And when St. Jude sleeps with your sorority sister, you'll be mad but don't let it affect you so much. Think of it as a blessing and thank her for taking him on as her own lost cause. P. S. You will eventually forgive both of them. Don't worry, they don't end up together either.

When your old crush from bible study asks you to lunch, politely decline. Don't see him at all, ever. This could result in some seriously bad karma for you. Stay away from him and don't be stupid!

Listen, 10 years from today you still will not have found the one. Don't invest so much of yourself into relationships that you know aren't exactly what you want. You still haven't found anything that even comes close to what you had with JV, and deep down you know that you are settling with St. Jude and the big one that comes after college. Just please don't waste so much time with people that give you less than you deserve.

After a few years at your post-college job, an opportunity for advancement comes up. It will be appealing, but don't take it. You will hate it. The increase in pay and the bigger title will not be worth it, because you will hate the office, hate the people, hate the entire environment. Stay where you are. You will miss it.

Start your MBA as soon as you can. Don't wait around wasting time! Just hurry up and get it over with.

Some friends that you thought would be friends for life... aren't. Some friends that you didn't expect to keep in touch with will end up being around for a long time to come.

Get more involved with things after college. Your friends will eventually move away and you'll be left alone, not knowing anyone in the area. It will make it very hard to meet new people when you don't have friends to go out with. Join a group or something! Don't rule out moving to Atlanta when you have single friends that move there. It might be fun.

Don't even think about finding a new home for the puppy when you and your boyfriend break up. That dog will help you make it through that rough point in your life and he'll end up being your best friend. He's your life saver. Keep him!

I could go on and on, but I won't. Just have as much fun as possible when you can and don't waste time on people that don't deserve it (most of everyone that you meet for the next 10 years won't deserve it). You can't get that time back and you will start to feel old before you know it. You'll do a lot of things right and you'll really screw up with other things, but in the end you'll turn out ok even if you don't take any of my advice. But take my advice anyway just in case it results in a happier ending!



*Names have been changed.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

I didn't want to see it, but I sure did need to

It’s funny how sometimes what you least want to see is exactly what you need to see most. Scuba Steve posted pictures of him and his new girlfriend. My stomach turned upside down when I first saw it. I was right. They were in Collegetown for alumni weekend. I could tell because the backdrop was a very familiar blue-light wall of a local bar. So she’s cute. And thin. They kind of look like the number 10 standing beside each other. But the moral of the story is… I kept looking at him really closely in those pictures and I couldn’t remember why I was ever attracted to him. Granted, he’s cuter in person than in pictures and his personality (as fake as it may be) is really what makes him attractive, but still. I just stared at his face and my first thought wasn’t about how much I missed him (finally!). It felt good. I still shed a few tears and broke the no-crying streak that I was on, but I’m only human. The tears weren’t about him though, they were stirred up by the weird range of emotions that I felt at the moment. As much I dreaded seeing him with someone new, it is exactly what I needed to realize that I’m really over him. I have some scars from the break-up that are still a little tender, but I’m over him. I wouldn’t want him back even if the opportunity was lying right in front of me. And that is a good feeling!

Monday, February 25, 2008

Catching up

I've been MIA for awhile. I thought I was on a roll there with my blogging for a minute, but then life happened and I got really busy and now I'm just lacking any blog inspiration. I have one or two things that I'd like to write about, but I'm a little nervous because I'm not sure if a certain person knows of this blog address or not. I guess that's the problem with a public blog, it can't be "public, with the exception of this little handful of people. " Oh well, I'll ponder that one for a bit and maybe I'll be back with a post about it soon.

Just to keep my public (which probably only consists of about 4 people so far!) up to speed with what's been going on with me the past two weeks, here's a little rundown.

* I hate my job, but I'm trying to stick it out a little longer. At least we are about to hit our busy season, so I will be too swamped to think about how much I loathe the place.
* I'm completely burnt out with grad school and I'm wondering if I should stay the course since I'm halfway there or change directions altogether. I have to get through mid-terms this week and then I will get back to deep thought on this issue.
* I'm feeling a little jealous of everyone that is going back to Collegetown for alumni weekend in a few days. I had been pumped up about it before the new year, but now I'd just rather pass on the front row seat to see Scuba Steve and his new girlfriend bumping and grinding on the dance floor or hanging out on the front porch of his frat house (where I would want to be to see MY friends!). No thanks. And to all of those people who would say get over it already and don't let him keep you from having a good time... bite me! But no worries people, I have big plans for Collegetown this summer. More details to follow.
* I am obsessed with my new ipod! I thought that getting a new ipod would encourage me to run more often, but I've found that it has only encouraged me to cozy up on the couch with my laptop and waste countless hours building up my library. I'm loving it though!
* I've had it up to here (imagine my hand raised far above my head while I stand on my tip-toes, stretching my fingers as high as possible until I get a pinky cramp) with dating. You'll hear more on this later, believe me... (once I'm sure that no involved parties will read this or hear about it.).
* I have baby fever. The faint echo of the clock tick tocking, which starts creeping in the closer women get to 30, is getting louder and louder. So many people have either just had babies or are about to have babies. I have been surrounded by the sweet little drool spewers for the past couple of weeks. This past weekend just topped it off though when I spent some quality time with a little princess that could best be described as a Shiloh Jolie-Pitt doppleganger. I have two baby showers in the next 6 weeks. My biological clock is like Big Ben on estrogen! I have to get this fever under control before I start pandering for desirable sperm.
* I have made absolutely no progress on my bucket list and I'm nearly 2 months into the year. I've got to get crackin'! I'll elaborate on the details of my bucket list soon.

And that's pretty much what's been going on in my head the past two weeks... in a nut shell.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Blind Dates- Mental Health Not Required

I mentioned in the previous post that I had been dating around the past year, and it has been an experience to say the least. There have been good dates, bad dates, hot dates, and I-hope-I brought-my-mace dates. I thought I would tell an interesting (and some might say humorous- I would not be one of those people) story about what it is like being a single girl in the dating world these days. Let's just say, "it ain't what it used to be!"

My most outrageous experience so far was a blind date a little over a month ago. We will refer to this man as Scary Larry, because it only seems fitting - just keep reading. I had seen a picture and was very pleased with the aesthetics. We talked on the phone briefly and he seemed fairly nice. We even had a "small world" moment when we realized that I had kind of gone out once with his now brother-in-law back when I was in college. We were set to go out as soon as he came home from his deployment in Iraq, which was going to be right after Christmas. So D-day came and I was pretty excited. After spending a little too much time getting ready than I probably should have, I checked out the final product and I was feeling gooooood! We had planned to meet at Starbucks for a casual coffee date and just see what followed. So I pull up and Larry is already there. I see him sitting in the car and I think- not too bad. The picture that I had been shown was obviously one of his better ones, but he wasn't completely lacking. Until he got out of the car. Let me just say that I am not a clothing snob in the least little bit! However, I do have certain expecations of how a man should dress on a first date, call me old fashioned. His baggy, ratty, ankle-grazing jeans with his faded, stretched out Hanes t-shirt (tucked in for maximum accentuation of the distended pot belly) and his grungy Route 66 yard-work sneakers were miles away from meeting those expectations. But I give him a break and look past it. He just got back to the states two days ago, maybe his luggage hasn't arrived...maybe.

I won't bore you with all of the very uncomfortable details from the coffee-shop conversation, but I will give you a quick run down of key points. Within the first 30 minutes of the date, I learned the following about Scary Larry:
-He had been married and divorced TWICE
-He married his first wife three days after he met her, and the second wife 2 months after he met her.
-He had 18 tattoos. That's not a typo, EIGHTEEN tattoos. I got a descriptive tour of all of them with background information such as what they meant, what country he got them in, and what he was drunk on at the time. One of them included the name of his ex-step-daughter who he seemed way too infatuated with in a very weird way.
-He could see himself involved with a man, "if it weren't for the whole anal sex thing." Yes, he actually said that.
-He had been arressted for domestic violence on multiple occassions. Who admits that!?
-He was court ordered to 6 months of anger management classes.
-He went into graphic detail about how good it felt to punch his wife in the stomach. According to him, it was well worth the jail time. Way to throw an upper-cut Larry!

Yes, he divulged all of those little jewels of information within the first 30 minutes of the date. Obviously, I barely got a word in edge-wise. If I had gotten a word in, it would have been a very subtle "help!" sent in the direction of the barista. What is worse is the fact that he had no common social skills that would allow him to read my facial expressions or body language. He just kept digging a deep hole of scary. Then he had the shocking nerve to ask where we were going next! Could he not tell from the white knuckled grip around the sleeve of my tall hot chocolate that I was NOT feeling it? I guess Larry wasn't that perceptive. What was I to do? Do I break it to him that I'm ready for the date to end? All I can see are flashbacks of his face as he described punching his wife in the stomach for taking his car keys. Do I want to piss Larry off when he's less than 5 days out of a war zone? Did the 6 months of anger management really take and if so, exactly how well? I decide to not rock the boat while I am in within arms reach of him. I reluctantly agree to dinner to keep him complacent- I can already hear the audible gasps of ,"no she didn't!", but you guys weren't there! I did, however, refrain from the offer of riding with him to dinner. No thanks Larry, I've seen Unsolved Mysteries before, I know the deal. I manage to make it through dinner without bolting for the door or setting off his psycho within. I was safe at home in bed by the time he sent me a text message saying that he missed me already. Are you f'ing kidding me? As I lay there reflecting on the evening's events, I reached into my nighstand drawer and placed my gun directly in front of my alarm clock for easy access... just in case. Goodnight Scary Larry.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Ex Files

It happened. I knew this day would eventually come, but I wasn't expecting it to be today. I admit that I sometimes cyberstalk through a popular social network that has been known to ruin careers, relationships, and entire lives. Well it has yet to ruin my life, but today it definitly threw a kink in it. He changed his status. The ex-boyfriend that is. "In... a... Relationship," three little words that turned my stomach upside down.

The ex and I, we'll call him Scuba Steve* (for a hateful reason that makes me feel better right now), have been broken up for a year and a half technically, a year realistically. For the first six months we did the whole back and forth/let's try to work it out/let's be close friends/ let's give it another shot thing. Of course, that was after the initial 6 weeks of crying non-stop and wanting to be put out of my misery. Then just over a year ago I gave the ultimatum. Y'all know the one I'm talking about- we're either all or we're nothing. Well his lack of answer was answer enough for me and I hugged him goodbye for the last time and left in tears.

He was my first "real world" love. We went to college together and I'd had a brief crush on him, but didn't really socialize with each other except at fraternity/sorority socials. Then after college we were both living back home in the same town and our paths crossed again. I knew on our third date that I was going to fall in love with him. And never one to let myself down, fall in love with him I did. And I mean HARD. I continued to tumble head over heels right until the end where I ended up sprawled in a pathetic mess on the unforgiving basement floor known as dumped-town. It's almost embarrasing to confess that I let a ignorant man affect my life so much, but it was truly the lowest I've ever been. Even after the ultimatum we eventually fell back into our old habits of flirting, drunk dialing, and contemplating giving it another go. That continued until the end of last summer when it became obvious that it was more painful to stretch it out the way we were. We stayed "friends"... as much as a scorned, bitter woman can consider the man who ripped out her heart a friend. That was until two months ago. Two months ago I ended all contact with him. I had met other men and been on dates and I really was trying to move on. Of course in the back of my heart I still loved him a little and thought that there could be a chance that sometime in the future we would reconnect. And I made efforts to keep us in each others lives anyway I could because of that. But nonthesless, I wasn't going to wait around. I made sure that he knew that I cared about him, but I was seeing other people and not wasting any more time. Well two months ago is when it finally hit me that he loved that I was still obsessed with him and our relationship. Whenever I appeared to be moving on, he would do something to twist the knife in my heart. He started to seem really vain, egotistical, and patronizing about the whole situation, which makes me laugh now because his cockiness is part of what first attracted me to him. So anyway, two months, no contact whatsoever, and I'm feeling good about it... until tonight.

I finally felt like I was ready for another relationship and have taken the steps to try some lucky men out for the available position. To be quite honest, I think I have a relationship deal sealed and in the bag if I want it right now and that's great.... but Scuba Steve beat me to it! How juvenille is that!? I know! I know that's it's stupid and pointless, and I still don't care. I wanted to be the first one in another relationship. I wanted to be the first one to change my profile status. I wanted to be the first one to rub it in his face that I found someone better who realizes what a good thing he's got! And Scuba Steve had to go and snatch the one little shred of pride that I was hoping to grasp in the end. Knowing that he is with someone else now does make me a little physically ill. I expected that though. I think the nausea will be gone by the morning... until I find out who the girl is of course (or until I see her- I hope she's a troll!). Once that subsides, I think what will bother me the most is that he beat me to the punch. I think there should be a rule that the dumper should never be able to go public with a new relationship until after the dumpee. It's just common courtesy, douchebag!

* Names have been changed to protect the guilty bastard.

Dip me in formaldehyde and call me pretty!

I'm getting old. In case you haven't noticed those two little digits in the "about me" section, I'm 29- blech! I'm two weeks into 29 to be precise and the last birthday was a BIG pill to swallow. 29 is just so.... "the end is near!".... know what I mean? I just don't know how I got here. One day I'm living it up in college thinking that I'm still such a baby, the next day I'm border-line spinster. I hate people who say that "age is just a number". Weight is just a number too, but 300 lbs still means fat. But it's ok.... I've embraced the fact that I'm on 30's front porch, peering in the windows and banging on the door. I'm ok with it now, really. If I say this enough times I am going to convince myself eventually, right?

What I am NOT ok with are the permanent signs of "old ladyhood" that have crept onto my face without me noticing until now. When did they get here? They are certainly not welcome guests. As soon as I noticed that those sneaky little bitches (that are commonly referred to as wrinkles) had inhabited my face (which just so happened to be right after the 29th birthday), I devised a plan of attack. I'm talking guerilla warfare here! I immediately consulted some older, more seasoned relatives on their suggestions. Unfortuantely for me, most of the women in my family age really well so there wasn't much help to be had. But my dear, beautiful mother did recall reading an article recently comparing certain products in the I'm-so-f'ing-old-give-me-some-miracle-cream-for-my-face industry. The shining star of the studies was surprisingly not from a department store cosmetics counter. Needless to say I rushed out to purchase some ammunition. I was prudent by starting out with just two of their offerings, the vitamin complex/mousturizer and the eye cream. As with most new purchases, I couldn't wait to use it that night. I honestly couldn't beleive it. As soon as I put it on my face, my skin just felt different - better! I wasn't naive enough to think that there was a visual difference, but if I could tell a difference in the way my skin felt in 2 minutes then I'm pretty sure it's doing something right in there. So 2 days later I venture out and purchase more of their products, the cleanser and another kind of eye voodoo. Can I just say that I'm in love? It's been about a week and a half and while no one has gawked at my astonishing transformation into an 18 year old prom queen, I feel much better. Maybe that's why the product works anyway... maybe it doesn't effect your wrinkles at all, but it just makes you feel like you look so damn good that you believe it and start to act that way! I don't know the science behind what it's doing and I don't really care. All I know is that I am so obsessed with anti-aging, wrinkle-ironing, fight-the-course-of-nature skin preservatives now that I may as well dip myself in formaldehyde. But I'm ok with that...

Monday, February 11, 2008

What's In A Name?

In the second grade my favorite book was The Little Girl With Seven Names. In the 5th grade I bought my first baby name book and chose names for my 6 hypothetical children that I thought were in my future. In the 10th grade I aced my science project by focusing on the effects of given names on children. When I got my dog, it took me more than a month to pick the perfect name for him- "Bosley" is from Charlie's Angels, not the Hair Replacement Center infomercial! Last year, I stopped seeing a man because his name did not suit me. Do you see a pattern? Names have always been way too big of a deal to me and my blog is not exempt from this psychotic obsession.

When I settled on the decision to create a blog, I took a day or two to brainstorm a title for the blog. I wanted it to have personal meaning, but not so personal that it made no sense to anyone else. I wanted it to be catchy, but not cliche'. It didn't want it to be too time or topic specific so as to narrow the possible content. Can you imagine putting this much thought into every seemingly insignificant decision that you make? I assure you that it leads to much unnecessary stress. So goes the story of my like.

Back to titles...there were four or five options to begin with and I sought opinions from close friends. I thought I had a winner until none of the above mentioned friends commented on my favorite choice, something about life needing revisions/editting. It must not be good then, right? So then I moved on to option two, Bright Copper Kettles. It was an odd title, kind of out of left field unless you know the back story. Obviously anyone familiar with the thespian perfection that is Julie Andrews knows the significance of those three little words. They are from her famous song "My favorite things" from The Sound of Music. That was one of my all time favorite movies when I was a little girl and my mama gave me a special music box in the form of a wicker picnic basket that plays that song. That music box is still one of my most prized possessions and to this day I still sing that song to myself when I am feeling scared, distraught, like things are never going to go my way, etc. I know, I'm a Y-chromosome away from being a gay man, but I accept and own my quirks. So I had settled on the title and I was off to blogging. Then came the ever present glitch that follows me in life. Someone else already had a well established blog by the same name! Ok, so I'm not a judgemental person, but the blog is weird. I did not want to be associated to it in any way. I mean, what if someone was looking for my blog and got to hers instead and ended up with a completely distorted view of who I am. I couldn't have it. So the search was on a for a new blog name.

After browsing a few other blogs and finding no inspiration whatsoever, it finally hit me. The Dandelion Chronicles. You're thinking that's as weird as the other one right? Well not really. It's suits me perfectly actually. I had considered something similar to begin with, but I thought that it would make my blog to "identifiable". It turns out, I don't really care if it's identified. So the dandelion thing goes way back. When I was little I LOVED dandelions. I thought they were the prettiest little magical fluff domes ever and used to tell everyone that they were my "favorite flower". Imagine my dismay when, at the tender of age of 8, I was informed that they were actually weeds. I was devasted for a moment. How much does it say about me that my favorite flower was a weed? Well it probably says alot, but it says things that I enjoy. I was so enthralled by the weed that only I loved that my family starting calling me dandelion (or a morphed version of it that I can't specify bc it would give away my name). They still call me that do this day. When I was in college and thinking about getting a tattoo, what image did I gravitate toward? You guessed it, a personalized hand-drawn dandelion that is now permanently inked onto the small of my back- this was before that location was referred to as "tramp stamp". So The Dandelion Chronicles it is.

The same basic internal turmoil took place when deciding on my posting name. It started off as Miss Copperpot, which seemed fitting when it was linked to Bright Copper Kettles. Then I thought about a bevy of nicknames that have followed me throughout life, but somehow Martha Jr. seemed the most appropriate. It's a nickname given to me by an ex-boyfriend. God forbid he ever read this blog, because I'm sure he would think it was a sign that I was not over him and using this blog as a way to plot a scheme to win his heartless ass back.... but that's another post altogether. To sum it up, I idolize Martha Stewart in many many ways. I would love to be like her when I grow up, minus the bitchy scowl and prison record. I'm what some might refer to as a domestic diva. I'm the girl that would love to be a stay at home mom devoted to refurbishing the old crib and bringing home the blue ribbon from the quilting bee despite her degrees in higher education. Yep, that's me. Judge me if you will, but I know who I am even if the world does not. So that's the story behind my blog title and my pseudonym. Is that story really worthy of a blog posting all its own? Maybe not to some, but to me... there is infinite meaning in a name.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Blogging... it's not just for losers.

So I’m a blogger now. I have to admit… I used to make fun of blogs and the bloggers who wasted their time penning them- I know, I know! But lately I’ve been following the blog of an acquaintance and it has completely changed my opinion. I used to love to write in my journal, but that seems so archaic now. Who has the time or patience to sit down with pen and paper these days? It’s much easier to jot something down in a word document while I have a few free minutes at my desk. So I’ve come to think of a blog as the modern diary, except you have the key hanging on the door and a detailed map of where to find it under your mattress. Yeah ok, the thought of everyone having access to read it is a little unsettling to me still, but I’m working through it. I’ve been accused of being too private on more than one occasion and maybe this will help me open up my world to people a little more. But I’m still undecided as to whom I’m going to give my blog address. Should I let my friends read it or should I keep it completely anonymous? Who knows? I’m going to play it safe with my topics for now, just to be on the safe side. Besides, it’s not like I have really good “diary scoop” anymore like who passed who a note during math class or who left the bar with someone else’s boyfriend! This brings me to my next point…

My life is completely boring. I’m issuing this disclaimer now so that no one can argue later that I have wasted their precious blog reading time with my endless droll about utterly unremarkable events and occurrences. I know people moan and groan all the time about their lives being boring, but mine really is. Maybe the pressure of having something interesting to blog about will force me into more note-worthy adventures.