this blog made me smile today...

Always Late With The Gift, But I Make It Up By Eating Part of It.
Confidential to Melati:

Front porch. Check it.

Late-ass birthday present, plus some pretty great wine and glass Christmas ornaments designed to shatter upon contact with sound.

I ate the cheese.

I owe you some cheese.

Maybe for Christmas.

In March.

--By erin (www.outofcharacter.blogspot.com)

Phillip

It's been 9 months since our friend Phillip committed suicide. I have had more than enough time to wonder what I could have done differently to perhaps save him from himself. My head says what is obvious "It's not your fault" but my heart still argues that perhaps there was something there I should have picked up on...a warning...something. I know Matt has dealt with the same feelings of emptiness and regret especially since he was the one sitting beside Phillip when he said he had something "important" to tell him 2 weeks before he died. But the music from the band was too loud for Matt to hear what Phillip was saying so he let him talk and tried to listen as hard as he could. I would have done the same thing. Phillip was always a "talker" but never about anything serious. Sitting across the table from them I too could not hear my own thoughts for the roar of the speakers in front of us but wondered what was on his mind.
I will always wonder what was on his mind.

It's a relief when someone else puts your feelings into words for you...a bigger relief when they add those words to music."The Fray" is a new band who has done this for me. The song is on the radio...maybe you've heard it.


Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong,
I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice

Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong,
I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Where did I go wrong,
I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

in the now....

I know. It's been a while.
Here's an update.

1) Matt has been placed back into a platoon. He graduates 01/19/07

2) I haven't heard hyde nor tail of him in 2 weeks
(I feel like he's literally on another planet.)

3) I voted for a democrat for the first time in my life.

4) My brother Jim has moved to charlotte (It's a good thing...so far....I think)

5) Watching Mel's dating life has been as awkward as seeing a dovet toilet in a double wide trailer.

6) I can tighten my belt one notch tighter without my gut sticking out (thanks to Ty).

7) I was called white trash and shortly therafter came very close to giving my first black eye.

8) I was reminded that I was considered a dork at Montreat College

9) In one week's time, I came rediculously close to going London....and Hawaii

10)Mel and I made it down to the front row at the GNR concert

11)I took a flu shot from a lady who looked like Mammy from Gone with the Wind

it's about that time.

I was reminded of what it feels like to be cold down to the bone this morning while I sat and waited for my car to melt the first frost of the season off of my windows.

It was not a good feeling.

Week 4

Matt's mom got a letter this week. In it, he said he's "Hangin Tough".....

I cried in a bar last night after I heard "Please come to Boston," a song that I myself picked on the jukebox totally unaware of the fact that I would break down while listening to it. I'm so used to hearing Matt singing along beside me, I suddenly felt more alone than ever. Mel gave me a hug and we shed our tears together.

Why the tears creep up on me in the least expected moments I will never know.

My hair went from blonde to brown this week. It has been an adjustment, but everyone says I have "more color now"....great. Glad to know I was a ghost before.

I heard today from Matt's recruiter that his is doing better and should re-enter training on Monday. I hope he was telling me the truth. I'm starting to believe the opposite of whatever they claim due to their awesomely honest track record lately. Regardless, this news has put my heart at ease for the first time in two weeks.

yea...I'd say all in all...I'm hangin tough too.

Ty.

As I mentioned earlier, I've been forcing myself to hit the gym lately. I am attempting to loose some pounds that have been gained by 2 years of complete ignorance to the fact that as you get older, you're body slows down and doesnt burn fat as quickly as it used to.

To help with this process, I have my trainer....Ty.
Ty fits the stereotype of being a "meathead" to a tee.
I am constantly amazed at how much he thinks of his bulging muscles. His most common "move" is to flex his arms and stare at them while he demonstrates how to lift certain weights.
I keep waiting for him to kiss his bicep except his neck is so big I dont know if he could bend it down far enough to do so.
To his credit, he gets the job done...even if I am mentally cussing him out with every set.
I'll keep you updated on the process.

Meanwhile...if you need tickets to the gun show i'll hook you up.

seeking peace

Thursday night I found out that Matt wont be graduating until after the new year due to medical problems he's been having.
Please dont ask questions...I only wish I had answers. But the fact that I cannot speak to him nor him to me makes this situation all the more frustrating.
Suddenly I felt myself falling apart, and if I didnt do something quick, my emotional state of mind would slip.
Mel was going on a family trip, told me to tag along.
"It will be good for you to get away," she said.
I knew she was right.
I took her word for it.
I ended up at a place that brings comfort to my mind and peace to my soul...the beach.
Saturday evening we wandered down to the beach, sat on a blanket, and watched the most amazing storm roll in. The lightning over the ocean was amazing. It was a rush to see the waves so violent.
My restless soul could relate.
The next day the sun broke through the clouds over the ocean and I was reminded once again of what I've always known...God doesnt put us through anything we can't handle.

nice.

Fall is in the air.
Bring on the cooler weather.
Bring on the colorful trees.
and...
Bring on the perverted pumpkins!




har har har.....

the french braid.

Since Matt has left, I have abandoned all attempts to look pretty.
This is not because I am depressed as much as it is because I am becoming a slave to the gym, and just dont give a damn about impressing anyone with my looks lately.
ok that sounded depressing.
My point is, I didn't realize just how much I have abandoned my routine of beautifying myself until this morning when I showed up to work in brown clogs, brown pants, green shirt, no make-up on, and my hair french-braided.
yea, FRENCH BRAIDED.
I have not french-braided my hair since high school.
Now that I think about it, I havent seen anyone with a french braid since the 90's.

Guess it's time to put myself back together.

the new girl.

My fellow salesmen wonder why I "just can't get along with the other women in my office?"

I tell them i have nothing in common with....

A) Women who build curtains out of paper clips to hang over the entrance to their cubes.
B) Women who get escorted out of the office by officers because they have outstanding warrants.
C) Women that go to lunch, and return to work 2 hours later smelling of whiskey and covering their ears because of the loud noise they hear (otherwise known as a telephone ring).
D) Women who wear bedroom slippers to work...on purpose.

....need I say more?

You're laughing....but the above descriptions are based on real life experiences.
Trust me, I wish I could say I was stretching the truth!

On a lighter note....a new girl started today.
I heard someone ask, "Where did you grow up?"
She replied, "In a very sheltered church and home...I dont say it personally, but some people say I grew up in a cult."
I sighed a sigh of relief.

Finally.....someone normal!

just let me vent for two seconds.

maybe it's just my job.
maybe i just think too much of myself.
but there are those days when I just dont feel like dealing with idiots.
this is one of those days.

the beginning.

I am currently in the process of picking myself up from being a complete mess, and learning to take this day by day.
Three months. Sounds like nothing right?
I'm going to try to stay busy....and pray more. They are two things that will keep me sane.
So far my "to do" list consists of the following:

-getting a personal trainer so I will make myself go to the gym...regularly.
-spending more time eating out (cooking for one person isnt fun)
-more photography
-girl time
-concerts
-did I say girl time?

...any suggestions?

here comes the rooster.

It is done.
Matt has joined the Marines.
He leaves a week from today for basic training.

Denver: Day 3

today.
today i have been slightly lonely, but the business of standing on my feet for hours and talking about wire has slightly distracted this mind of mine.
now.
now i'm listening to 'holiday in spain' after seeing the most amazing concert I've ever seen.
Listening to "cantcha see" from the guy that actually wrote the song was an amazing experience. Go figure I had no one to share it with except for a few owners. Owners of what...it never matters to me.
I'm in denver now, a town i've gotten to know through a couple of cocktails and a rueben or two.
It's just not the same.
I'd rather be at home.
It's where i belong.
This heart of mine just cant get used to something new.

Denver:Day 1

I traveled to Denver tonight for a business trip.
Tonight starts a 4 day tradeshow binge that consists of standing on my feet 9hrs a day talking to the same people I speak to everyday on the phone. The day is then followed up by a 2-3hr dinner that consists of more business talk. The only good thing about the later is the fact that there is wine involved.
Don't you hear the excitement in my voice?
Hell starts tomorrow.
However, today I have been able to take it easy.
I have been alone most of the day...it's been nice. No, I take that back...it's been lonely.
The most exciting event that has happened so far this evening was at the hotel bar where I ate dinner.
A texan sits down next to me who loves to talk.
He orders the loaded nachos, and then brags about how Texan nachos are the best in the world.
blah. blah. blah...is really all I hear from that point on.
Until a very British elderly woman walks up to him and says (in a very British voice),
"What the Hell are you eating my dear boy?!"
Texan: "Why, these hear are nachos."
British woman: "Well, I must say it looks like you're eating a pile of shit to me!"

For the first time today...I smiled.

it's a process.

Mel's first boyfriend was evil.
He was deceiving.
He broke her heart.
Last night she opened her mail on the patio.
It was a wedding invitation...to his wedding.
She immediately held her lighter up to it but didnt light the flame.
Instead, she laid it on the table.
I wanted to burn it for her.
But I didnt.
It's hers to burn.
One day she'll let go.
One day she'll light the flame.
One day.

silent scream.

I cannot yet disclose the details, but there is a chain of events that are about to occur that will completely change my life as I know it.
As much as I have tried to prepare for this change, the panic of knowing my zone will no longer be a zone of comfort is terrifying.
If I think about tomorrow for too long, I loose today.
If i think about today for too long, I am overwhelmed with the fear of tomorrow.
While I am ironically at peace with the future, the moment is unsettling.
Thoughts fly through my head....
Am I ready for this?
Each breath is different.
Not good.
Not bad.
Just different.

you've got to be kidding me.

I was in a wreck tonight. No, not really.
I guess you could call it a fantasy wreck.
Let me define.
Fantasy wreck="A close call. There is no physical contact between two vehicles, BUT the other driver is on crack and is convinced that you hit their car....so they pick out one of the many dents in their car and blame it on you."
You can laugh....for a minute.
But believe it or not, it's a reality.
I know...because I was involved in one tonight.
I almost kept driving as I thought "wow, that was a close call."
I felt no bump...never even heard a sound that remotely resembled that of a car crashing into my SUV.
But when I saw that poor red ford escort sittin in the middle of the road...well this tender heart of mine got the best of me and I pulled over in the CVS parking lot.
Big mistake.
The lady get's out of her car on the cell phone like WWIII just happened.
The first words I heard out of her mouth were, "I THOUGHT SHE WAS GOING TO RUN BUT HERE SHE IS IN THE CVS PARKING LOT!!"
I thought, "Good Lord, do I really have to deal with this incompetent freak?"
Yes, she was on the phone with 911. From the sound of her voice, she had just been killed and was raised from the dead due to her "great"driving skills.
The cop comes.
The three of us inspect her car.
She points out a huge dent in the passenger door (just one of the many).
We inspect my car.
Nothing. No dent, no scratch of paint. Nothing.
The cop then looks at my tire and points out a scuff mark that could have "possibly hit her bumber."
I asked, "What about the side of her door?"
She is quick to anounce that she'd "forgotten that the door was dented from a previous incident."
Nice. Glad she pointed that out.
I dont think I could have lived with myself if I thought that dent in her door was because of my freaking tire.

Anyway, before I rant and rave myself into a frenzy...again, I will state that the cop did run a report. Hopefully, my insurance company will dispute it and it will be dropped.

Then she can pawn her dented up car on another poor soul in another fantasy wreck episode.

Watch out, you could be next.

Paris

This past weekend was a whirlwind trip to Paris.
That's Paris, Tennessee.
The occasion? My cousin Abbey's wedding.
It was the first time my grandmother and her sister (my great aunt susie) had both of their entire families together at one time.
They both shared tears of joy the whole weekend because of this feat we were all able to pull off.
I rode the total 1,090 miles with two of my brothers, Richard and Jim.
Then there was my dear Matt who decided to go with me at the last minute due to my wonderful begging skills.
The trip consisted of rolling down the windows constantly due to wrank farts... of which each male in the car would brag about as if he were 10 years old.
Added to the farts was plenty of shit-talk between the three of them.
Jim would tease Richard about his girlfriend.
Richard would tease Jim about his....or lack thereof.
Jim would pout.
Richard would ease off.
Jim would make a come-back.
And the cycle would repeat itself.
And of course Matt was there to strategically instigate the battles between the two.
It was entertaining....for about 15minutes.



Then there was the wedding reception...with an open bar.
Dudely shoals doesnt have too many weddings.
And when there is a wedding, an open bar is as rare as seeing a house without wheels.
So stick my brothers...at a reception...with an open bar...
And well, you've got trouble.
Jim was the one who had no shame.
He would yell "I'm gonna get wasted tonight!" to my Dad who has finally given up on trying to make my brother act mature in any way.
Then he would pass his drink around to anyone who would give him the time of day saying, "taste this!" with a big grin on his face.
Everyone who dared take a sip of his cup of straight alcohol would cringe.
Then he'd belt out a deep laugh like it was cool to be the drunkest person at the reception.
Richard stayed on the sidelines.
One of his major goals in life is not to end up like Jim.
Therefore, he never passes a chance to make it known that the only similarity between the two is that they are of the same blood.
He would wait for Jim to start charming some girls....then connive different ways to make him look like a retard in front of them.
His mission was accomplished... more than once.
Yes, all in all it was a good trip.
I met cousins that I had only heard about, and stocked up on plenty of stories to share with friends who are always entertained by my family episodes.
As I drifted off to sleep last night I concluded that I've had enough family time to last me a long while.

...then I realized Thanksgiving is two months away. shit.






My grandmother (left) and Aunt Susie....




Jim (left), Matt (middle) and Richard (right) at the reception.

when crows fly into your soul....

If you've never experienced a counting crows concert...
In the third row.
In 90 degree summertime heat.
With sweat soaking your jeans.
And your hair sticking to the back of your neck.

well, quite frankly....you havent lived.

Once I get down from my musical cloud #9, I may attempt to write about last night's concert.

But dont be surprised if I dont.

Some experiences are just better left in the moment.





PS. Recommended album: "Counting Crows, Across a Wire: Live in New York City"

sandman update #2

Sandman will be fine.
His kidneys are slightly damaged...but he'll recover.
Truth is, he'll probably recover quicker than I will.
Yes, I have turned into that girl who thinks her dog is really her best friend.

Sandman Update...

Just when I thought I could put the dreadful circumstance behind me, it haunts me once again.
I realized we may not be out of the clear when I woke up in a wet bed at 4am this morning.
It's just not like a dog to pee...in a bed...while sleeping.
I didnt know what to do about it so I asked Mel to keep an eye on him this morning.
After getting an update that he had peed for several minutes straight...again... and was sleeping all morning, I figured I should give the vet a call.
It is their recommendation that I take sandman to the vet to get blood work done to make sure his kidneys are ok.
So here we go again.
I'll keep you updated.

Sandman.

I almost killed my dog saturday.

Woke up with a headache.
Took IBUprofen while still half awake.
Left the bottle on the bathroom counter.
Put Sandman in the bathroom with his bed, his stuffed bear, his bone, a bowl full of food..........and a bottle full of 108 IPUprofen gelcaps.
Went to lunch with Aim and Mel for approx. 2.5 hours.
Came home to an overdosed dog.
Pills all over the bathroom floor.
His face was swollen.
His pupils were huge.
He looked to be 100yrs old.
He swayed as he walked.
His tail still wagged.
I Panicked.
I Tried to breathe on my way to the pet hospital.
Mel sat in the back seat with sandman.
She kept telling me that if I did not slow down we would all die and then there would be no point in going to the emergency pet hospital.
The nurse needed my permission to pump his stomach.
Afterwards, I was told to take sandman outside while we waited on the doctor.
He sat down beside me, looked at me with his droopy swollen eyes, and puked on the sidewalk.
My heart sank.
Mel and Aim sat on the bench outside.
They shared a diet coke, and smoked cigarettes.
Hours passed.
They never thought once of leaving.
Benadryl made the swelling slowly fade.
The doctor finally came to tell us the next step.
He was a hideous old man with no personality.
He didnt pet sandman.
Sandman tried to sniff his crotch while we were listening to the diagnosis.
All three of us blushed.
Option#1: He recommended that Sandman stay at the hospital for 48hrs.
Depending on how many pills he had, his kidneys had the possibility of shutting down.
Then he would die.
$653.23 total.
Option#2: Take a chance...go home...and pray.
He said "off the books" that "In his experience," the number of dogs that survived an IBUProfen overdoce surpassed the number of dogs that didnt.
I felt a little better. A little.
I took Option#2.
For many reasons, but mainly because I had a gut feeling.
I had a peace about option#2.
Now, 48hrs later, Sandman is still with us.
He is peeing regularly so his kidney's must be ok.
He even looks at me while he's got his leck cocked with a humiliated look on his face.
He wants privacy.
I dont care.
I've never been so happy to watch a dog pee in my life.

my cankles...

The definition of cankle: "when a person's calves run right into their ankles."

Yes, i have them. They are at the top of my list of insecurities.

At this point, you may be thinking "awe, it cant be THAT bad."

Oh my friend but it is.

I was "blessed" with my father's enormous calves and his lack of ankles.

Therefore capri pants are out of the question...and heels help to add a little definition.
At least I'd like to think so.

However, I am not a "high heel" kind of a girl...at least not on a regular basis. So I end up wearing flip flops and paint my toenails regularly since I have convinced myself that perhaps the color of my toenails will distract one's eye from my cankles.

I dont think it works.

A few weeks ago I was at the beach with my best friend amanda. We wandered into one of those novelty beach stores filled with random junk like rebel flag beach towels, corona bikinis and keychains with your initials on them. I found myself looking at the cheap hemp jewelry.

Without even thinking, I picked up an anklet I liked. Amanda saw me and whispered jokingly, "Jules, I dont think they sell CANKLETS here!"

We both laughed and I bought it anyway. Sure enough...the damn thing wouldnt fit.

It is now around my wrist reminding me that my days of wearing an anklet are over.

She Aims for her heart....

Last night, she took her first step back to her heart.
There's a rough road ahead. But it's a start.
The tears will cloud her eyes.
There's still room to fall before she'll fly.
She knows she's not alone.
Its the thread of hope that keeps her hanging on.
One day at a time
She'll keep His love in mind
She'll make it
Her step is strong
She'll make it

bridezillas....

You know those nasty days when you'd like to say exactly what's on your mind?......

To the waitress that walks by you 100 times and doesnt even look at you because you might actually need something.

Or to the guy on his cell phone driving 2mph on a 55mph road...(NEWS FLASH...it aint THAT hard to talk on a phone and drive the speed limit).

but you keep your mouth shut because well, it's just not very nice to cuss at people.

On those days...

Watch that show. You'll feel better. Trust me.

the weekend.

"Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart. I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived."
----Meet Joe Black

I'm sitting on the couch. Sandman is curled up at my feet snoozing. Every now and then he twitches his legs and I wonder what he's dreaming about. Maybe he's dreaming that he's back at the Corrado's farm running free and getting tree sap in his ears again. Someday he will have plenty of land to roam. Someday.

The weekend has been a relaxed one. It's nice to sit on the couch and do nothing sometimes. I watched "Ghostbusters" for the first time (compliments of matt), and havent put on makeup once. Yes, it's been a good weekend.

sunsets and cigarettes...

There are those few evenings throughout my week when my schedule and my roomate's schedules all come together and we find ourselves at home at the same time.

Before we know it, we have each hit "pause" on our busy lives and we find ourselves sitting outside on the patio just before the sun sets, smoking cigarettes (a hobby just recently picked up because "there's nothing else to do I guess"). We take turns reflecting on life as we pass the lighter around. The subjects are as shallow as how many mosquito bites we each have, to thoughts on issues of suicide, abortion...how precious life really is.

We started this patio ritual last spring, and thousands of conversations later we are now heading to the end of another summer of our twenty-something lives.

As we were chatting last night...I couldnt help but step outside the moment and reflect on just how much this ritual, and these girls have come to mean to me. They are real. They have problems. They see humor in quirky girly moments, and they find happiness in simplicity. But my oh my how things have changed in just a few months of summer. It always works out that way doesnt it? No one ever looks back on a winter and thinks "wow, so much happened in those cold winter months, I cant believe they have flown by so quickly!" No, it is the summertime that always sweeps us away, and the wintertime that prepares us to be swept away the following summer.

Aim has grown the most. She is slowly and steadily seeking out what it really means to follow her heart. She wants to be told she's beautiful. She deserves that. It's long overdue. She doesnt want to settle for less. She tries to rationalize her restless heart only to discover how dependable her gut feeling can really be. Just watching the process from the outside looking in is a beautiful thing...especially when you've been in the middle of such moments yourself. She's a survivor. She'll make it. Just wait and see.

Meantime Mel has the world by the horns and the fight has given her a run for her money. She's realized the dillusional peace that comes with having a comfort zone. She holds back from taking risks and then battles the disappointment in herself for not taking the risk. Even still, she has an amazing ability re-light the fire and keep burning. She puts her heart and soul into everything before thinking twice about it. I hope she never thinks twice. The world could never have enough Melody.

Yes, for the first time in a long time, my heart is at ease from simply sharing my summer with girls like Aim and Mel.

And ya know...there are those moments in life when you sit and think "when I am old and grey...I want to look back and remember this moment... and smile." It's comforting to know that I have another summer full of those moments.

So someday if you see me rocking away in my rocking chair with a big foolish grin on my face, you'll know why.

The Office...

I sit in my cube at work and hide from the circus of individuals who think they have an unmatchable sense of coolness.
Even still, the open room does not keep the conversations from spilling over into "myspace."
Football has been the latest topic.
If football did not exist, maybe I would have some silence.
But then I wouldnt have an excuse to sit in a field, grill brats and drink beer all day.


football wins.

back at my desk.

I was on vacation last week. It was the first full week of vacation I had taken in a year.
I waded through the week finding certain moments of each day to stop and think; "I am so glad I am not sitting at a desk right now."
I saw beautiful summer sunsets both in the country and at the ocean.
I thought alot...too much.
Now, I am back at my desk.
You would think that after a week of vacationing, one would have peace of mind. You would think I would be ready to get back into the routine of things.
Instead, I am more restless now than ever.
I have a gut feeling that my world is about to be turned upside down.

enough said..

Twenty Something

I have come to the conclusion that my years of being "twenty something" have been the best years of my life...so far.

It is funny how the first 20 years of your life mold and sculpt you into something whether you like it or not. Then for the next 20 years you get to decide what you want to keep and what you want to let go by the wayside....life is suddenly an adventure. Choices are made...good ones, bad ones. Yet at the end of every day there is a satisfaction that it was you who made those choices, and there is even more satisfaction in knowing that there is Someone who is walking beside you each step of the way.

I have been blessed with so many things...family, great friends (I could go on and on).

But most of all...I have been blessed with Peace of mind.

This thing called Life is going to work out just fine for me.

Attitude Adjustment

Last night I was moody. I whined to Matt, I complained about things that wouldnt normally bother me, I was selfish and didnt feel like snapping out of my attitude. I thought about it...but didnt feel like it so I stayed in my sulky state of mind.

This carried on for the 2 hours I was at his house when he gave me a hint that he wanted me to stay and I could just sleep on the air mattress by his bed. As I prepared the air mattress, I realized that the comforter that I had taken to his house was in the spare bedroom where who knows had used it. I demanded that he trade comforter for mine...and his pillow for mine. He gave them both to me without even hesitating.

As I drifted off to sleep I felt guilty....and grateful. Guilty that I would shove my attitude in his face, and grateful that he loved me anyway.

Sometimes its the little things that make a difference...I am truly blessed.

Just another day...

Just another day.

At least this is what I keep telling myself this Valentine's Day. Hmm.. I thought I would do better than I'm doing about this time (10:22am). Especially considering that Valentine's Day really never seriously crossed my mind until last night when I marveled at my strength not to make it a big deal of it this year. I told myself weeks ago that I wouldnt make a big deal of it which is just anotherway of setting myself up for heartache like I usually seem so good at doing.

Just another day.

So maybe my plan hasnt been too successful as I sit here in my office in a bad mood. I've noticed no one comes around my office when I'm in a bad mood. Then I feel guilty as I am proving to every male species that I work with that all women are indeed moody and the best thing to do is stay away from them.

Just another day.

So what if I dont get flowers at work like everyone else? So what if my last conversation with matt was so horrible that for a split second I gave up hope for ever being "enough" for him (I could write a whole different blog on that subject alone...but I will save myself and whoever chooses to read this the agony).

I see a pattern here. I will stop writing before my negativity consumes me and I become a bitter person.

Just another Damn day.

Daddy's Monster...

My dad just called me here at work. It started out like the handful of phone conversations we've had always start out....

my question:"How is everything dad?"
his response:"Pretty good. I've had a sinus cold and it's wiped me out for the past week but other than that things are going ok."

This is where he tries to switch the spotlight from him to me...

"so are you all moved now?"
"yep, I still have a few things left at the apartment but Richard and Matt are going to help me with those things tomorrow."
"Well that's good."

I turn the focus back to him....

"How are things going with mom?"
"Well, she said she was ready to move back in and then changed her mind so I dont know what's going on."
"Are you still going to counseling?"
"Well I've just said all I can say...you can only say so much."
"So you're not going at all?"
"Well your mother and I went together a few weeks ago and it was a disaster. My counselor said I should take a few weeks off."

So the conversation continues as I voice my opinion on things and he agrees for the most part. Then we start talking about Stephen as Dad mentions that he wants Stephen to be able to move back in with him sometime. I told him that I think it's better if he spends time with Stephen away from the house. He asked me why. I politely told him that if he comes over to the house for the weekend, there is too much routine...too many old habbits. In other words, if Stephen comes over to the house Dad might sit in front of the tv and do what he did so much of my childhood...shut us out.
I also told dad to be consistent. I told him that he tended to have a pattern of shutting us out (sitting in front of the tv) and then feeling guilty and spending a day or two with us...only to return to his all too comfortable routine of shutting us out.
His next remark was unexpected...it literally took me by surprise.
He said....
"The reason why I did that was because I was too angry to spend time with you. Everytime I would try, I would end up snapping and exploding on you and the boys. I figured that shutting you out was the lesser of the two evils."
Wow. I had never thought of that before. But it was true...so true that it was scary. My father had so much anger inside of him that he felt like a monster. He rejected himself and everyone around him because of it...it was a monster inside of him that he simply could not control.
You see, my father didnt shut us out because he was consumed by his job, or a hobby, or by drinking. He shut us out because he was too afraid of his anger to let us in.
Anger simply consumed him.

The Fabulous Life of a Woman....

I am 24 years old. Old. I am dealing with the everyday pressures of being a woman and am finding myself growing tired with every second of it.
I feel fat.
I want to change my haircolor again.
My nails never grow out evenly.
I look pasty.
I need a tan.
And the thoughts just go on...and on...and on.

Come to think of it....that's what my mother always seemed to me. Tired. She would come home in the evenings, lie down on the couch and sleep. She was always tired.
Yes, I must face the reality that so many of us run from everyday....I am becoming my mother.
I sigh...and then remind myself that there are good qualities of my mother that I have inherited and am thankful for. I have inhearited her creativity, her love for gardening...I could go on if I thought about it for a few more minutes.
But why did I feel so negative when I wrote that I am becoming my mother? Why do all woman run from the fact that we all turn into our mothers eventually? Maybe it is because we want more. Maybe it is because our mothers are tired....tired of a life of never being enough....never being the wife she feels her husband expects her to be...never being a better mother...never living life the way she wanted to. No matter how hard she tries..she is never enough.
Yes, my mother wasnt just physically tired, but emotionally and spiritually tired.
She was as tired as anyone can get.
And now, I find myself following in her footsteps but fighting nonetheless, against every step.
At this point, if I really wanted to...i could play the whole "society makes us this way" card. I could go on and on about how society puts magazines in front of us at the checkout counter with beautiful, skinny women on the covers and plays psychological games with us to convince us that if we want to be beautiful, we must be just like jessica simpson or charlize theron.
Now believe me, I'm not saying society doesnt push us to have a false perception of beauty. But is society really who we need to place the blame on? I dont think so. Of course it is there...the message will always be there. But let's face it. Society will never be a completely positive mold in anyone's life. So where do we place the blame? We are always good at the blame game...but this time maybe we should stop focusing on where to point our finger and accept responsibility. I mean who is the one to who decides to go to the tanning bed? Me. Who decides to be with the guy who never tells you he loves you? Me. Who chooses to sit in front of the TV and stress over how much I weigh? Me.

hmmm...it's something to think about. I wish I had all the answers. I only know that the decisions I make at this point in my life are so crucial. Who I decide to marry....the career I choose to have...the friends I choose....again, the list goes on.
Will the decisions I make today haunt me down the road? I have no one to blame but myself if I find myself shutting off myself from the world by sleeping on the couch every evening when I get home.....tired of life.

Dear Lord...please help me make the right decisions.