i ended up here... how?

Have you done this yet?

2006-06-16T15:20:00.000-04:00

I've moved here. So go there.

Update your bookmarks!

2006-06-13T10:27:00.000-04:00

I've moved here. So go there.

Go Here Now

2006-06-12T07:10:00.000-04:00

My New Blog

http://iendedupherehow.com/blog/

What did I do??!!

2006-06-09T08:56:00.000-04:00

Sorry Happy, no movie quotes today.

I'm totally clueless. Leave it to me to jump in without thinking, doing any research...

I bought my domain name last night thru Yahoo hosting. The thing is, I have no idea how to publish it.

Joe, from Eat at Joe's (he's on the list) has very kindly offered to port my template into wordpress for me. I've imported all my posts (except this one) and started to categorize them. I've set up pages.

But I don't know how to get the site from wordpress onto the stinking web. If you go to www.iendedupherehow.com there's an under construction page up.

People talking about FTP...

I don't get it!!

Help!!

Will someone take pity on a girl, and help?

What if I say pretty please with sugar on top?

Replies

2006-06-08T18:04:00.000-04:00

Since the comments on the last post have exploded, I thought I’d answer a couple of comments here (if blogger ever lets me post again, shitty, fucking, dick, ass blogger. I’m so getting my own domain. Does anyone want to translate this template into wordpress for me? I’ll pay.)

Anyhoo…

Anonymous wrote:

What he does is abuse. It is dangerous for you and you kids to be around him. Go with your instincts. If you feel it. It is real. You don’t owe anyone anything. Yikes, I just don’t like seeing or hearing or reading about people in abusive situations. It breaks my heart. People don’t change. He wants control. All men know women dream about their weeding their whole lives. You should have what you dream of!!!

_____________________________________________________________

Hey Anonymous! We’re a friendly bunch around here. Feel free to leave your name next time.

Yes, I’m aware that I endured over 11 years of abuse from this man. The question on the table is, has he really changed? From outward appearance, and in recent dealings with me, it would seem so. He has also been told, flat out, that if I was to accept him back into my life, there is no way that I will put up with anything remotely similar to where we’ve been in the past. He assures me that is possible and would absolutely be the case.

That said, my fear is living under the same roof with him again, knowing our history. I believe it is why I am holding back so much in terms of moving forward with him. He wants me to forget the past and start fresh. I don’t know if that is possible.

_____________________________________________________________

Haley-o wrote:

Wow, I didn't realize it was that bad. You're very brave to have left and even braver, it seems, to give him another chance for the sake of your kids.

I believe writing it out is a really good tool for you--because, if you really do want to move forward, you're going to have to release the past. Writing down the past externalizes it, right? ...unbottles everything and gets it out there. Writing down the past is a way of releasing it and distancing yourself from it--so you can see it for what it really was, deal with the residual pain, and let it go. I hope that helps...

________________________________________________________________

Hey Haley! Blogger didn’t let you sign in? :) The problem is instead of releasing it, distancing myself and letting go, its brought back a lot of bad memories, negativities and concerns for the future. Can I really, even for my kids, get back together, without living in constant fear? I don’t know if I can.

_________________________________________________________________

Truthfully, after writing this, I don’t know if I want to. But, it always comes back to the same thing, the boysies. It’s not like I woke up one day and said, “Wow, I’m still in love with B. I made a mistake. I should see if he wants to get back together. (That’s what he thought I would do 4+ years ago, though. Because, according to him, I was always wrong in the decisions I made four years ago.)

No. What this boils down to is I miss my boysies. In the past 4+ years, I have spent 2+ years with them, 2+ years alone. I want to see them everyday. If there is anyway I can work it out with this man and we can cohabitate peacefully, isn’t it better for them in the long run anyway? Having both parents living under the same roof?

Fuck if I know.

That’s what therapy is for.

Flashes of the past

2006-06-07T19:41:00.000-04:00

I met B the summer of 1991 in Fire Island. The girl that ran my share house went to high school with him and introduced us one night at Flynns. By the end of the summer, we were inseparable, and we moved in together six months after that.

From the get go, B was very different from anyone I had ever dated. He wasn’t a “player;” checking over my shoulder to see what better might be coming down the pike. He was extremely attentive, wanting only to make me happy. In retrospect, it was very validating for me to have him around.

He was the first person to EVER buy me separate birthday and Hanukah gifts (the curse you live with when you’re born on Christmas… here’s your combo gift!)

The first year we were together, he was so horrified that my parents didn’t get me a birthday cake, when we got back into the city that night, he scoured Manhattan until he found me a piece of cake. No small feat on Christmas Day at 8pm. Then he made me blow out the candles.

Somewhere along the way, our relationship became one of angry words, screaming, yelling, and more. I lost my trust in him and our marriage. This didn’t happen overnight and it was present from the beginning. I glossed over it because I didn’t want it to be real. I buried it deep within my psyche.

Now, I have been instructed to unearth these things, write them down, so that I can possibly move forward, and perhaps learn to trust him again.

So, some assorted memories, not of the good variety…

We were in a car service, returning from a visit with my parents. This was at the beginning of our engagement and we were still trying to decide where the wedding was going to be. I brought up the idea of getting married in a castle, because it was something that I had always dreamed about. “Absolutely NOT!” was his immediate response. I tried to get him to listen to my point of view, but there was no changing his mind. The more I argued, the angrier he became. That was his word on the subject, now the subject was closed. By the time we got back into the city, I was in tears, and couldn’t stand the thought of being around him. I left and sat in a movie theatre, crying, for two hours. It was the realization while I was there, that I didn’t have anywhere else to go, that made me go home. When I got there, I told him fine, I’d continue to look at temples. We ended up getting married in the same kosher catering hall where he had his Bar Mitzvah party and his sister got married.

We went to Hawaii on our honeymoon, stopping first in San Francisco for 2 days. On the flight from California to Hawaii, the bottle of water I put inside the carry on bag, opened and soaked everything. B had warned me when he saw me do it, that I shouldn’t put the water in the bag because of that very reason. When he saw what had happened, he exploded. The woman sitting next to us on the flight was very concerned for my safety, and leaned over to ask me if I was okay. B then turned his wrath on her. She immediately asked to have her seat moved, rather than sit next to B. Somehow, this was my fault as well, so he screamed some more. I went for a walk by myself upon arriving at our hotel. Then I went back and apologized for putting the water bottle into the carry on.

The day I realized that I was pregnant with Little Dude we had one of our worst fights ever. Big Guy was a little over a year old, and sitting in his high chair at the time. I don’t remember what the subject matter was, but I know in this scenario, once again, according to him, I was wrong. The fight escalated, B took me and shoved me out the back door of our house. He then proceeded to lock me out. I was incredibly pissed off and decided to try and climb in thru the kitchen window. I had gotten the screen off and was starting in when he brought the window down on top of my head. In front of my son. That walk was two hours worth of me crying, wondering what am I going to do. In the end, I was pregnant. There was nothing to do but go home.

I was nursing Little Dude at the kitchen table one evening. B got very upset with me regarding a decision I had made without consulting him first. He started in with the berating of Stephanie. I decided I was not going to engage, I was nursing my son. I got up, baby in my arms, still nursing, and walked past him so that I could continue feeding my son in peace. He chased me down the hall without missing a beat, his screaming voice echoing off the walls. He didn’t stop even after I got inside Little Dude’s room and closed the door. Where I remained, crying and nursing at the same time.

Fun times.

_____________________________________________________

Question.

This is supposed to be helping me… how?

Bueller?

(Fucking blogger! I wrote this on Word at 2:30 this afternoon, and the blogger database has been down until NOW. I know this is a free service and shit, but after I write something, I usually want to POST it.)

My bitch

2006-06-06T20:31:00.000-04:00

I want to throw out a huge thank you to Blair, who was a most excellent landlord this week.

Landlord?

Wipe those confused expressions off your faces... I'll explain.

I rented Blair's blog, The Blair Bitch, through Blog Explosion this week. She was the first person to agree to rent to me, and pimped me out like the champion she is, for a week straight.

I have to say, I like this blog community thang I've discovered.

I've "met" some really cool people and discovered some really excellent blogs.

Like this one.

So go there and spread the love!

Git.

The Muppet Personality Test

2006-06-06T11:38:00.000-04:00

I had posted this before I deleted the blog, so I just took it again. Yep, I'm still Kermie. Yay.

You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know.
You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems.
Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green.
Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!

The Muppet Personality Test

You know you're vain when

2006-06-06T10:54:00.000-04:00

Even though your eyes are killing you from your allergies, you stick your contacts back in them before leaving for work, rather than wearing your glasses.

You continue to shop Banana Republic, even though you should be shopping off-price, because their vanity sizing allows you to continue to wear a size 4, even though you’ve put on a couple of pounds.

You obsess compulsively regarding these said few pounds, and how to get them the hell off your ass as quickly as possible.

You have a mirror on your desk at work so that you can continually check to make sure your hair looks okay.

Any time you pass a mirror, you must stop, at least momentarily, to check yourself out.

It's definitely not turning out to be a good Monday.

2006-06-05T10:21:00.000-04:00

My mom just told me that my dad has to go in for a biopsy for his prostate. She’s freaking out, and now, so’m I.

She told me this after I called to tell her that, because I can’t find coverage for the boysies, instead of going to Camden, Maine with them in July, I am going to have to move my vacation week to the week of June 19^th. That means no real vacation AGAIN for me this year, and that SUCKS.

Normally I could count on B for the extra coverage that we need for all the school closings and shit, but B got a new job. He has to be on the road everyday, and he no longer has an office he can bring them to. Besides the fact, that if he doesn’t go out on the road, he won’t make money.

Speaking of which, he still hasn’t reimbursed me for the boys’ expenses I laid out money for in May. He keeps telling me to be patient, but my patience is starting to wear thin. So's my bank account.

And all that really doesn't matter right now because I’m really scared about my dad.

ETA: Thanks to my friend Tabz, I now have this sign. Which fits my mood.

On top of everything else, just for the goof, the mold levels here have reached ginormous proportions, making it feel like daggers were being shoved into my eyes for most of this afternoon, until I got home and was able to take out my contacts. Looks like I'll be wearing my glasses until this dies down a bit. I hate my glasses, 'cause I'm much too vain. But that's neither here nor there.

A public service announcement

2006-06-04T09:31:00.000-04:00

Don't forget to go here and give Mike some lovin' for his guest spot yesterday.

Just in case you're not quite awake yet and missed it, that's here. Now git, I can wait.

The verdict is in.

2006-06-04T01:04:00.000-04:00

GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH.GAH. GAH. GAH. GAH!

Just kidding!

(Don’t you hate when people do that? I know I do.)

To sum up, the evening was not terrible, not great.

Meh is the perfect word to describe it (if there was such a word, but we’ll pretend there is.)

Moving onto the details.

This morning, I gave B a call to discuss the plans for the evening that were in my head (wow, I finally realized that he’s not a mind reader and I need to TELL him things so that he KNOWS what I’m thinking, but I digress.)

My thought was that we would meet for sushi, and after dinner, head over to the dive bar that has AWESOME live blues. He agreed (without a peep from him about me driving myself… + 10 points) and we decided on eight o’clock as our meeting time.

The weather, on the other hand, had other plans for us.

The restaurant and dive bar are located on the Trashtasket strip, on the Atlantic. However, they are not next door to each other. The rain, which had been coming down in buckets for hours, would make the five minute hop, skip and a jump from dinner, to music, a second (wait, third) shower of the day.

At six o’clock, I called B back and asked, based on the impending floods, if he had an alternate plan. We decided we would head in the opposite direction to a place that had food and music all under one roof.

Problem solved. At least that problem.

I got to the pub just before eight and sat in the chair in the lobby waiting for B to get there. And waited. And waited. And waited. Ten minutes past, and still waiting, (-10 points for lateness) I reached into my bag to grab my cell, and realized I left it in the car.

Shit, motherfucker.

I have to go back outside, walk around to the back parking lot where my car is to fetch it. I’m getting wet again, and not in a good way. (-1 bazillion points, just ‘cause.)

(Yeah, I know… I was the one who left my cell in my car, why is he getting points docked? Hello! If he wasn’t late, I wouldn’t have to go fetch my cell, in the car, in the rain.)

I recovered my cell and saw that I missed a call from B at 8:04pm (+10 points for the timing, -5 of those points for no message.) I called him back; when he picked up, my question “Where are you?” was answered with “In the back. I came in the back door. Where are you?”

“In the front, waiting for you.” (Duh. –1 gazillion points for stupidity.)

He came and found me. After a couple of table changes (am I with L?) we finally sat, ordered drinks and looked at the menu.

Small talk about the kids and his job ensued. (I was pre-warned by L that the only thing husbands and wives really have to chat about are the kids and work, because it’s not like a real first date where you don’t know anything about each other, so no point deduction here.)

Twenty minutes in, he asked a question about my job. (+20 points for asking about me, -10 points for taking so fucking long.) (He’s still +10 in this category, k?!)

Our food came, and while I'm thinking about offering him the fries on my plate, he steals one. (-10 points for being forward.) (Yeah, I’m a hardass.)

We eat, chat, and I fidget.

I can’t get over my nervousness. It’s so obvious, B makes note of it. (-10 points for calling me out.)

The band finally started to play at 10pm.

The Joshua Tree. Can you figure out what kind of cover band they are?

(I have to take another aside to talk about the band. First of all, cover band? WTF? You wanna play, but you’re not original enough to come up with your own material? Don’t PLAY. Secondly…)

Dude! Pearl Jam's on Saturday Night Live. JAM BREAK!

Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, bitching about the band.

(Secondly, if you’re gonna cover a band and not have your own material, make it ROCK.)

The Joshua Tree so did not. They were lame. Lamer than lame. I’d heard so many good things about this band; they did not live up to the hype. The hype, I realized, has more to do with the fact that they’re an Irish cover band, and I live in the Irish coast of New England.)

Anyhoo, we left at 10:30, I was home by 11. We parted ways in the back parking lot with “I had fun.”

Meh.

I came home and called The Player to come over and get naked.

Just kidding! (Yeah, yeah, it's late. Sue me.)

But, I’m not unwilling to try again.

So there’s the plus.

Turning over the reins.

2006-06-03T03:42:00.000-04:00

Since my brain is too wrapped up with analyzing every detail of my impending date, I've asked my new friend Mike to step in and give you guys something fun to read.

I'm still not sure how Mike found my blog, but I'm glad he did. It gave me an opportunity to find his. He commented on one of my posts, and in that way I have, I clicked back to return the love. I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only is Mike funny, witty, snarky AND a smartass, he posts a LOT, which gives me plenty of reading material during the day when I'm bored at work. He's also kinda cute. (After you read this, you should go here and give him lots of love.)

So, without further ado... Mike, you can take it from here.
___________________________________________________

So here I am. And on time for a change. (I can say that because I wasn't given a specific time to show up.)

Stephanie asked me if I would do a guest blog for her and I readily agreed after the following thoughts:

1) This idea has always intrigued me and I've actually had several guest bloggers throughout my blog. And even one who actually knew me in person. Stephanie is being extremely brave though. Seriously brave. I was nervous about what exactly the guest blogger who knew me would write....and she knew me. Stephanie is putting her blog into the hands of a certifiable....um....never mind.

2) When I asked her for some details (as in ground rules) she really had none! This was her response; 'Take your best shot' and 'this is so cool' and 'I'm such a geek.' Honest, and I have the e-mails to prove it! (Yeah, I'm putty in her hands now. Weak in the knees and slack-jawed as well. I think if you look closely you'll see drool on my chin. But I'm a sexy beast so the drool isn't a turn off, really.)

3) Stephanie blogs in the nude. Honest. Well ok, I can't actually say I have a confirmed sighting , but using my vivid imagination I'm sure that's how it is. (And she's cute so she can get away with this and it's one way to beat the summer heat, bonus!)

So anyway, I agreed to do this. That was the easy part since she stroked my ego, patted my head so to speak.

The hard part was deciding exactly what to blog about?

Quite the dilemma. We discussed possibly doing a blogger roast ala celebrity roast style but I've opted to surprise her with another idea. Since I don't know her that well I really didn't want to alienate her. But then after further thought, she's still reading me now....perhaps that's not going to be an issue.

You see I bring out two thoughts in most women I meet in life. Yes the dreaded 'double D's' if you will. (I disgust them and they discourage any further contact.)

(So what if I collect restraining orders like some people collect stamps or coins? We all need our little hobbies.)

So where the hell was I? Oh....the dilemma. What to write about.

I thought the best way to determine this was to do a thorough blog inspection. So I dug around Stephanie's archives like a frat boy during a panty raid. (I was impressed to say the least and actually a little more than just a little turned on. I'll send back any borrowed materials Stephanie. They were needed as research items, honest!)

(Can anyone tell me if it's necessary to dry clean a thong? Just wondering. Thanks in advance. Oh...some of this other stuff....so lacy and frilly....again....a little help here please.)

I am so easily side-tracked.

So back to the content of this post. What to actually write about.

I decided an in-depth interview was the way to go. Since I own her blog today I get to make the rules though. I not only get to ask the questions, but I also get to provide the answers as well.

(She does have the right to refute any of her answers, or for that matter, go into greater detail if she wishes. After all....I'm not a monster and can be quite charming and thoughtful at times despite the restraining orders.)

Mike: 'What is your favorite use for duct tape?'

Stephanie: 'I really don't think you need to know this Mike. Just be satisfied that this wonder tape can spice up any room in the house.'

Mike: 'If your nickname was Room Service exactly what would this imply?'

Stephanie: 'It would depend on the type of room and who exactly is in the room. For instance Mike, if it was you, it would imply soggy toast and lukewarm coffee at best.'

Mike: 'What is your opinion on the prostitution of the tooth fairy?'

Stephanie: 'What the fuck is the matter with you Mike? Don't confuse the tooth fairy with that slut Snow White and those seven little perverts she runs around with.'

Mike: 'Do you consider yourself weird?'

Stephanie: 'Not after meeting you. I must have been insane to let you do this to me!'

Mike: 'What is you first thought before you go to bed?'

Stephanie: 'It used to be I wish I had the love of my life sharing this bed. Now it's pretty much did I lock the door so that perverts like you can't sneak in?'

Mike: 'What's the meanest thing you've allowed someone to do to you?'

Stephanie: 'Actually I'm starting to think this is gaining ground. I will be kicking your ass in the near future.'

Mike: 'Would you ever participate in a threesome?'

Stephanie: 'Only if the other two participants were you. Now before you get all big-headed let me explain. I figure as old and frail as you are it would take two of you to keep up with one of me.'

Mike: 'How do you vent your anger?'

Stephanie: 'I've made reservations at a very nice restaurant for us to show my gratitude to you. The best part is that it is strategically located within walking distance of both the emergency room and a funeral parlor. My best advice to you is to wear clean underwear. Preferably your own for a change.

So that's all I've got. I think the last question pretty much sealed the deal and why should I push my luck?

Thanks for allowing me to make a fool of myself today Stephanie and best of luck on that date you have coming up tomorrow night. (Well....it's tomorrow night from the time I wrapped up this 'lil gig up anyway.)
________________________________________________________

Mike, thanks, I loved having you here... the rest I'm leaving up to imagination, 'cause it involved me removing my bra, getting comfortable and ...oh, do you need a sandwich?

The Joker

2006-06-02T18:29:00.000-04:00

And you are caller number... 10!

You've just won two tickets to see Steve Miller, August 11th at the Bank Pavillion Center! Don't go anywhere, we'll be right back to get your information.

Woot!!!

Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
'Cause I speak of the pompitous of love

People talk about me, baby
Say I'm doin you wrong, doin you wrong
Well, dont you worry baby
Dont worry
'Cause I'm right here, right here, right here, right here at home

'Cause I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner
I play my music in the sun

I'm a joker
I'm a smoker
I'm a midnight toker
I sure dont want to hurt no one

I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner
I play my music in the sun

I'm a joker
I'm a smoker
I'm a midnight toker
I get my lovin on the run

Wooo wooooo

You're the cutest thing
That I ever did see
I really love your peaches
Want to shake your tree
Lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey all the time
Ooo-eee baby, I'll sure show you a good time

Cause I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner
I play my music in the sun

I'm a joker
I'm a smoker
I'm a midnight toker
I get my lovin on the run

I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner
I play my music in the sun

I'm a joker
I'm a smoker
I'm a midnight toker
I sure dont want to hurt no one

Wooo woooo

People keep talking about me baby
They say I'm doin you wrong
Well dont you worry, dont worry, no don't worry mama
'Cause I'm right here at home

You're the cutest thing I ever did see
Really love your peaches want to shake your tree
Lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey all the time
Come on baby and I'll show you a good time

Big news!

2006-06-02T16:26:00.000-04:00

I've turned OFF the stupid word verification. I hate that shit everywhere else, (anyone else never get those stupid letters right on the first try?) so it's gone from here now.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled program of Favorite movie quotes Friday V (do you think I can get all the way to XXIII? How many Friday the 13th movies did they make anyway? I think I need to go google that. Yeah, I'm bored, sue me.)

Favorite movie quotes Friday V

2006-06-02T08:26:00.000-04:00

Oh, bite the weenie, Riz.
With relish.

You see Mitch, I used to be you. Lately I've been missing me so I asked Dr. Hathaway if I could room with me again and he said sure.

They confiscated everything, even the stuff we didn't steal!

Cut the horseshit, son. I've got their disciplinary files right here. Who dropped a whole truckload of fizzies into the swim meet? Who delivered the medical school cadavers to the alumni dinner? Every Halloween, the trees are filled with underwear. Every spring, the toilets explode.

Tomorrow, I'll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Heather, a world where I am free.

Where have you been soldier?
Training, sir.
What kind of training?
Army training, sir.

You're Bill Gates?

All right, remember - alcohol equals puke equals smelly mess equals nobody likes you!

Once again, things that could've been brought to my attention YESTERDAY!

You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?

In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns.

Beware of the dwarf.

His crowd has gone deadly silent, a Cinderella story outta nowhere. Former greenskeeper and now about to become the masters champion.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have to pull rank on you. I didn't want to have to do this. I'm with the Mattress Police. There are no tags on these mattresses.

I can't help it. I don't like to read when I drive.

Fuck a duck.

Morning. Who's for snot flicking?

Hey, Cameron. You realize if we played by the rules right now we'd be in gym?

I really love Rudy. He is totally enamored of me. I mean, I've had other men love me before, but not for six months in a row.

I loathe the bus. There has to be a more dignified mode of transportation.

You don't need a license to drive a sandwich.

Go the Hasslehoff!

(Okay, it’s your turn again. Leave ‘em in the comments, just like before. Play with me!)

Caution. Expletives ahead.

2006-06-01T09:31:00.000-04:00

Did you ever have so much shit running around in your brain that you can’t form a coherent thought?

That’s how I feel right now.

Anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious.

(You think I’m anxious?)

Yah.

B and I have plans to go out on Saturday night. Alone. No boysies. Just us.

The idea of this is scaring the ever loving, mother fucking, shit out of me.

My brain has made this into a do or die, make or break situation. A deal breaker if you will. I can’t keep dragging this out. I need to make a decision.

Can I recapture how I felt about B, once upon a time?

The problem is, I live with our history. That history makes me afraid. I can’t go back to living the life we shared. Being that unhappy every single day, putting up with his bullshit behavior. I do believe that he’s changed, but…

My brain doesn’t want me to forget. My brain is not letting me get comfortable around him. Because my brain sucks like that.

Is this fair to B? Not so much.

B wants me to approach Saturday like it’s a Jdate. A, never met the person, let my guard down and see how it goes, date.

Great in theory, but in real life?

I don’t know if it's possible.

We had a long conversation yesterday about my anxiety. That it’s not just about him, but he’s a part of it. That I’m a little sorry that I opened this great big can o worms before I worked out my own shit. I should’ve known better.

Then I told him I wanted to drive myself on Saturday, so when it was time to go home I could just get in my car and go. I want to be able to get in my car, attend to my own feelings and figure out what this all means.

The idea didn’t go over so well.

“You know I’ve always respected you.”

It’s not about that, asshole! It’s not about YOU. It’s about ME.

I want no pressure.

But that’s all there is right now.

A great, big, mother fucking, pressure cooker of pressure.

GAH!!!!!

I just know it's going to blow up.

And it’s not gonna be pretty when it does.

Nice to think positive, huh?

The Devil has a new Playground

2006-05-30T11:32:00.000-04:00

My good friend The Devil has a new Playground and it looks amazing!

So y'all should head over there and spend some time checking it out.

Ya know, play on the swings, climb the monkey bars, go down the slide. All that good stuff.

Tell him I sent ya.

Have fun!

The buck stops here

2006-05-30T11:16:00.000-04:00

It’s settled. I have to go shopping. Somehow I have to figure out the money, go buy some clothes that fit me, and stop obsessing about my weight.

It’s for the future positive self image of Big Guy as much as for me.

As I was putting the boysies in bed last night, Big Guy asked me if he was fat. He was sitting up in his bed, playing with the rolls on his tummy, as he asked me.

{{Sound of Mom’s breaking heart}}

This was after a weekend of watching mommy change her clothes repeatedly trying to find something flattering to wear.

At one point he asked me why I kept changing my outfit. My response was that I had put on a little weight, my clothes were not fitting correctly, and I was looking for something that was comfortable.

As you can imagine, I was not the happiest of campers when I responded to him.

Big Guy is just that, a big guy. He was 10lbs at birth; he’s been off the charts his entire life. At eight years old, he is just under 5 feet tall and he weighs about 95lbs. He is NOT fat, but he doesn’t have muscle tone in his stomach either. Which, HELLO, is completely normal for an 8yr old.

I immediately told him that he was not fat. That he should never think that way about himself. We talked about why I am always bugging him to go outside and play. That if he continues to do things like play soccer, baseball and kickball he’ll always be healthy. How swimming this summer is going to make him stronger. That we always need to have a good balance between healthy food and junk food. That he shouldn’t compare himself to his friends, (who all happen to be peanuts) that they're small and have different body types than he does. What’s important is being healthy. If you’re healthy, you’re not going to be fat.

By the end of this conversation, Big Guy was smiling and happy again. Crisis averted.

Mom is going to have to learn how to take her own advice, because I WILL NOT PASS THIS DISEASE ALONG TO MY SONS!

Memorial Day is not just for our Soldiers

2006-05-29T20:42:00.000-04:00

Reading a post over at Kvetch Blog earlier inspired me to share this story. After all, it is Memorial Day, and the people that lost their lives on 9-11-01 deserve to be memorialized as much as our fallen soldiers.
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9-11-01

L picked me up a little after 8AM to take us to Logan airport. We were both headed into NYC for work, and had managed to coordinate our shuttle flights.

Sort of.

I was on Delta, she was on U.S. Air, and our flights were scheduled a half an hour apart, but it still allowed us to travel to the airport together. Which meant we could utilize the carpool lane into Boston, saving us quite a bit of travel time (and aggravating traffic time.) We chatted the entire way into town, never bothering to turn on the radio, because we had so much to discuss.

B and I were still together at this point, but we were fighting constantly. I was becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation. L has always been my go to girl for advice, so most of our time in the car was spent discussing my options.

We arrived at Logan around 9:15, parked in central parking, and went our separate ways. As I approached the Delta terminal I noticed a gentleman sitting outside, smoking a ciggarette.

He looked at me and said "You're not getting to New York today."

I didn't respond outloud, but my brain did: "How do you know I'm going to New York, and what the fuck are you talking about?"

I hurried past him, into the ground level of the Delta terminal, and looked up at the board of scheduled flights.

Cancelled

Cancelled

Cancelled

All the way down the list it went. Every flight cancelled. Not delayed, cancelled. I was terribly confused. I went upstairs, approached the desk, and asked for an explanation.

I got nothing.

Except that, yes, all flights have been cancelled and no further information was available at this time.

I called L's cell. She picked up on the first ring and before I could get out a word, she said "You too?"

"My flight's been cancelled. Yours too?"

My call waiting beeped in, I checked the display, saw it was B, and told L I'd call her right back.

I clicked over.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Oh my G-d! Oh my G-d! Oh my G-d! Thank G-d you're okay!"

"What?" (I was definitely irritated at his histronics because I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.)

"A plane hit the Twin Towers! It came from Boston. I thought you were on that plane!"

"My plane isn't scheduled to leave until 10:30, how could I have been on that plane? What are you talking about?"

"A plane hit the Twin Towers. It crashed right into it. I bet it was terrorists!"

"B, calm down. I'm sure it was just a terrible accident. Why do you always have to think the worst?" (As we would all later find out, his negativity was actually right on target, this time.)

I told him I had to call L back and figure out what we were going to do. I'd speak to him later.

Because L & I had no idea of the magnitude of what had happened, and were completely dedicated to our jobs, we proceeded to try and make other arrangements to get into NYC. I called Amtrack while she made her way over to the Delta terminal to meet me.

By the time she arrived I had realized that there was no way we were getting to NYC that day (another prophecy come to fruition.) We decided it was probably a better idea to just head back to the South Shore.

The ride back home was spent in silent reflection. We were both too stunned to speak. There was very little information coming from the radio; we were still in the dark as to what was going on.

We arrived at my house and turned on the television. The Today show was still broadcasting, and was showing footage of the Towers crumbling at that exact moment. I turned and looked at L.

"What is that? That can't be right! That's a joke, right?"

The message light on my machine was blinking. It was my mom. I was supposed to be staying with my parents that night. My mother was hysterical on the phone, begging me to call her. I picked up the phone to call her back, my eyes still glued to the wreckage on TV.

Watching the Towers fall, over and over again.

The phone rang a fast busy. (As it continued to do for the next few days. It was three days before I was able to speak to anyone in my family.) I tried a few more times before I hung up and looked over at L.

She was on her cell, tears streaming from her eyes.

L was a buyer for TJ Maxx before she moved to the South Shore and had her second child. The daily commute back and forth from Metro West was brutal. Tired of dealing with it, she had quit just months earlier.

The call was to tell her that one of the flights from Boston was filled with her friends from TJ's. Wives and mothers all. Had she still worked for them, she would've been on that flight as well.

We ended up at the beach that day. Smoking weed and reflecting on our lives. It was when and where I realized that my marriage could not continue in its current state. It was over. I needed to tell him to leave.

Because not only is life much too short to be unhappy, you never know when it might be snatched out from under you.

I was very lucky that day. I could've lost my brother.

Grumpy was in Building 7 early for a conference call and witnessed both planes crashing into the Towers. He was able to evacuate and escape with only the demons he will live with for the rest of his life.

The ironic thing was that it was a beautiful, sunny day here in small town suburbia.

Not so much in NYC.

G-d Bless all that were associated with, or effected by that horrific day. My thoughts and prayers will always be with you.

You were expecting... what?

2006-05-28T22:42:00.000-04:00

I’m sure y’all have been waiting with baited breath to hear the rest of my bitchfest.

(Not!)

Well then, I’m sure you’ll be surprised to learn, while the issues from my previous post still exist, they’ve been replaced with a sense of calm.

Seriously.

Part 3 of my earlier bitchfest, which I didn’t get to, was the anxiety I was feeling over my plans for the remainder of today, after the boysies’ baseball game.

B called earlier today to invite the boysies and I to a barbeque that his friends were having this evening (B and the boys went last year, without me, of course.) His friends live in my town and are part of the clique that has consistently snubbed me for the past four years.

Let me interject a small clarification before I continue.

Any woman living in small town suburbia as a “single mom” will tell you, at least when it comes to dealing with other mom’s, your equivalent is the plague.

You are a representation of everything they don’t want to be. Include any semblance of attractiveness to your persona; you’ve just added “threat” to your repertoire.

It makes isolation sound like a party.

I didn’t know what to expect this evening. Would these women be nice to me? Speak to me even?

They never have before.

Because I’m the one who destroyed B’s life and took his family away from him (at least that’s what I assumed they’d heard.)

On the flip side, their husbands always talk to me.

Which, actually, makes it worse.

Because then, the automatic assumption is that “I’m after them.”

Which, I’m not.

But, does anyone take the time to get to know me, and know that I’m not that kind of person?

Of course not. That would be non-judgmental and rational. We don’t have that here.

We just have bitches.

It’s a new money town with a new money attitude.

I know, I chose to live here.

(For me it’s all about the schools. (And the beach, but mostly about the schools.) A town where the public schools are as good as private school and you don’t have to pay extra? Sign me up.)

(But, I’ve never been good with political bullshit, and small town politics are the worst.)

Anyhoo, back to the barbeque…

Look at that, I show up with B, suddenly I’m acceptable. There are women making nice to me, making small talk, asking about my kids even.

Holy shit.

Have I died and gone to heaven?

Nope, only as far as, “Pull this leg and it plays Jingle Bells.”

Yes, it’s nice to feel accepted, but I know from whence it came. And I don’t trust it as far as I can throw it.

Yet, it left me feeling serene.

That I’ll take.

‘Cause serene is good right now.

The bitchfest begins

2006-05-28T13:48:00.000-04:00

I’ve been avoiding this rant like the plague.  But, the more I try and hide from it, the more anxious I become.

(You might want to stand back; this could get loud and ugly.)

Why is it that I’m supposed to not be worrying and obsessing about my weight when it’s finally getting warm outside?  If it was 20 degrees and I had to dress in layers, I wouldn’t be giving it a second thought.  But it’s not.  It’s 90 degrees and I need to wear shorts.  Unfortunately, my shorts are not letting me wear them, because they are too fucking tight.  And half this town treats me like trash already; I’m going to give them more fodder?  I’m thinking not.

Now, the rational part of my brain realizes that having size 2 shorts not fit, well, not such a big deal… the irrational side is telling me that I’m fat and I’d better stop eating right now.

I’m sure there are some of you out there asking why not just go buy some new shorts?

Right.

Let’s get to Part 2 shall we?

In the next month, along with my normal expenses of bringing up two growing boys, (who are always hungry!) I have to come up with my half of camp costs, which is $1,200.  Add to that, there are FOUR weeks between the end of school this year and the beginning of school next year that I don’t have boysies coverage for.  Which means we’ll need to hire a nanny.  That’s at least $400 a week.  Add another $800 to this tally for my half.

That’s not so bad you say?  Well, Big Guy needs three baby teeth extracted.  Yes, I have dental insurance that covers 80% of the surgery.  What it doesn’t cover is the $300 medication they have to give him to make him woozy enough to do the surgery!  Hence, another $425 to add to the mounting total.

I make a decent salary.  But all this extra shit is putting me in a position where I cannot spend a dime that isn’t an absolute necessity.  B and I share joint custody of the boys; we share their expenses.  But he’s fucking broke, and while yes, he just got a new job, one that actually pays him a salary plus commission, that’s not going to show an upside for a while.  And it’s still CIGARS for fuck’s sake.

Crap.  Gotta go to baseball.  I’ll finish this later.

How long before they're teenagers?

2006-05-27T14:40:00.000-04:00

You would think that as the boysies get older, they’d want to sleep in. Not so much. My day started at 6AM with Little Dude at my bedroom door.

“Mommy, my bed is wet, can you dry it?”

“Did you have an accident buddy?”

“No, I spilt my water in it by mistake.”

“It’ll dry. I’m still sleeping.”

I refused to even open my eyes for this exchange.

He was back again at 7.

“Mommy, I’m hungry. Can I have peanut butter?”

“Sure. You can get it yourself.”

“But I can’t reach.”

“Use the stool, Mommy’s sleeping.”

Exactly an hour later I hear my door open again. I crack an eye open. Yep, he’s back.

“Mommy, when are you getting up?”

“I guess now, huh?”

I’ll say one thing, the little guy’s persistent, but at least he gave me some catnap time in between visits.

Sold

2006-05-26T19:41:00.000-04:00

Whew.

That’s me, breathing a sigh of relief. If the sale of the house goes through, which it should, I’ll have a new landlord in the next few months. He’s not only fine with us staying right where we are; he’s planning on living downstairs. Which means he might actually take care of the property. Someone that will mow the lawn, plow the driveways, and maybe make this place look a little nicer on the outside? Woot!

Did I mention he’s cute and single? (I think he's single. I didn’t see a ring but that doesn’t mean anything.)

And cute?

(Bad Stephanie! You’re not supposed to be noticing that! You’re supposed to be focusing on putting your family back together.)

(Brain, you can shut the fuck up, thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with noticing a little eye candy.)

He was here with the realtor and home inspector when I got home with the boys this evening. He was very cordial, first apologizing for not having completed the inspection before we got there, then asking if there was anything that I was currently unhappy with. He confirmed a few times that we wanted to stay, and then introduced himself to Big Guy and Little Dude.

Who were more interested in how long it was taking me to get their snack on the table then shaking hands and introducing themselves.

“Little Dude.” He turns and looks at me. “Mommy! Can I have my Ruffles now… PLEASE?!”

Nice, huh?

There was one point where he came over to speak to me that I had to take a step back. Yeah, a close talker; I don’t like those much. (Yo, buddy, umm, reasonable distance please. We’re not on a date here.) To his credit, he got the hint; it only happened that once. When he was leaving he said he’d give me a call to go over all the details.

Did I mention he’s cute?

All of a sudden I have these fantasies floating thru my head…

This is the reason I’ve been living here. It’s destiny. I was supposed to meet him. We’ll get to know each other because he lives right downstairs. We’ll fall in love, the boys will adore him, and we’ll all live happily ever after.

He’s probably got a girlfriend. That’s always my luck.

(Brain, I told you to shut the fuck up!)

Maybe I’ll have to stop fixing things on my own and start asking for help.

He was the one that put that idea on the table, not me. I should take him up on it.

And maybe start wearing a little mascara on a regular basis again.

Ya think it’s been too long since I’ve dated or that I'm not really feeling it with B?

Yeah. 'Bout that.

Favorite movie quotes Friday IV

2006-05-26T06:34:00.000-04:00

I want a woman that will arouse my intellect as well as my loins.

I asked for a car, I got a computer. How's that for being born under a bad sign?

Fuck… Shit… Fuck this shit!

This isn't flying. This is falling, with style!

Hello! McFly!!

Snap out of it!

That’s alright, that’s okay… you’re gonna pump our gas one day.

I’ve got moves you’ve never seen before.

Do you think she hates me?
With a passion.
Do you think it’s the hat? A lot of people hate this hat, it angers them just at the sight of it.

People on ludes should not drive!

Well, I guess it goes from God, to Jerry to you to the cleaners. Right, Kent?

Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Germans?
Forget it, he's rolling.

May I have ten thousand marbles, please?

You're a fucking *psycho*.

Everybody's coming back to take stock of their lives. You know what I say? Leave your livestock alone.

How does he do it, you ask. How does … how does an average guy like me become the number one lover-man in his particular postal district? He's grumpy, he's broke, he hangs out with the musical moron twins...

Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count.

The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.

Love the bag, love the shoes, love everything. Love to!

What’s ‘e going to do? Nibble yer bum?

I'm pondering the immortal words of Socrates who said, "I drank what?"

What we've been doing lately is smoking massive amounts of drugs, binging on Entemann's and listening to old Pink Floyd CD's.

I like to mash snow. It gives me a tremendous feeling of self satisfaction.

Tito Puente's gonna be dead, and you're gonna say, "Oh, I've been listening to him for years, and I think he's fabulous."

Veronica, why are you pulling my dick?

(Y'all know how this works already. Leave yours in the comments if you'd like. I'd like ya to.)