tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47580272916558181732024-03-13T20:51:43.054-07:00One Day At A TimeMy Own Brand of RandomSionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-68178051786454738582012-04-28T17:44:00.000-07:002012-04-28T17:44:48.665-07:00Day 236: FUBAR<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Alright, my Whomevers out there. As promised, today's installment is full of "Wow!"s, "No, you didn't!"s, and "Are you shitting me?!"s.<br />
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So, by now, we all know that I'm particularly adept this special skill known as "Fucking. Shit. UP." It's a long list, so I won't go into detail of my past escapades, but I <i>will</i> share the latest.<br />
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As some of you may remember, R is now dating someone else. "Someone else" being my ex best friend/ maid-of-honor/ Boogie's godmother. Well, as I realized, not only were they dating - oh no - they're living together too. Rather, she <i>was, </i>because she left for the NAVY already; and that's where things get interesting...<br />
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Oh yeah, guys, I fucked up. Pretty royally. Even for me. ... Yep. You know where this is going.<br />
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SO. Girlfriend left on the 18th. Last Wednesday. Well, last Saturday, I took the kids out for the day, and asked R if he would like to accompany us to the fair since I was <i>trying</i> to be the bigger person about his night of epic douchebaggery earlier in the week. ((Granted, I blame this also on the fact that I was running on about ... four hours of sleep in three days. Twenty hours straight of which, I'd spent at work... May have been a little slap happy.)) That night, we got the boys back to his place, put them to bed, then he and I sat down to talk and watch a movie. We stretched out, got comfortable, and I passed the hell OUT.<br />
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While I was asleep, though, I could smell his cologne, and I started dreaming that we were "home" and having a night to ourselves, so I started "seducing" my husband. Then I woke up and realized that things were still proceeding right along. Long story short, I spent the next <i>few </i>nights alternately fighting and sleeping with R. The fighting was mainly about what "all this" meant. I was genuinely hoping it meant that we would try again. <i>He,</i> however, only wanted to get his rocks off, essentially. As he put it, he "love[s] and want[s]" me, but doesn't want to be with me, because he's still "in love" with Girlfriend.<br />
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Apparently, <i>she</i> has "always been there" for him and is his "best friend"; which, honestly, I don't doubt; but, I'm sorry, let's just run through this real quick, shall we?<br />
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Where was <i>she</i> during the custody trial for the son he had after he cheated on me? </li>
<li>Where was she when he was having problems with his parents? </li>
<li><i>Who</i> gave up everything - literally - to have and raise a family with him? </li>
<li>Who is (was) <i>still</i> trying and willing to forgive everything in order to keep his family together? </li>
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Yet, I'm <i>still</i> not enough for him, it seems. He's still "in love" with her, even though they've only been dating for a couple months now. Yep. Makes perfect sense. </div>
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.... Bitter? Me? ... Yeah, just maybe a little.</div>
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So, needless to say, I feel like a complete friggin idiot. On the bright side, I suppose I can find solace in the fact that I can definitely say this is the <i>last</i> time I'm fucking up like this. .... I'm starting to see why people refer to women as the "weaker" or "fairer" sex. In this, though, I'll <i>be</i> stronger. I just wish it hadn't taken this for me to wake the FUCK up. </div>
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Don't misunderstand. I <i>don't</i> hate him. I can't. Loving him is like breathing. I can't just not do it. <i>However</i>, I cannot and will not allow myself to <i>care</i> anymore. Not for him; and may everything that is holy help me to avoid <i>ever</i> falling down that path again. Not that I never want to be in love; I just don't <i>ever</i> want to go back to <i>him</i>. Not that I wish him ill will or anything, but he can go contract every STD known to man until his cock rots off for all I care. It may even do him some good. </div>
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So for all of you out there - and I'm sure there are plenty - saying that I shouldn't have posted this, that it's private, etc., I have two words: Too bad. I <i>want</i> the world to know what kind of man Russell Lee House Junior is. I <i>want</i> people to know what he's done. That he is a lying, manipulative, unfaithful, ungrateful, dishonest, disgusting, pathetic excuse for a human being. <i>Let</i> him face that fact. For once in his life. </div>
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Oh, and Russell, since I know you'll read this eventually. You made me promise not to tell <i>her,</i> and I won't. You're more than welcome to that. Have fun.
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As for me, I'll keep on with <i>my</i> life. With<i>out</i> you. And yes, I'll enjoy. my. fucking. day. </div>
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One Day At A Time. </div>
</div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-66653690513487820562012-04-07T14:26:00.000-07:002012-04-07T14:26:00.770-07:00Day 215: CHANGES!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, wow. Holy hell. Things are completely.... wow.<br />
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This time last week, I was stuck as a waitress for a company I hated. Not <a href="http://leelavadee.net/" target="_blank">work</a>, mind you. The other one. I was only there for about a month, but Tuesday, I had this really rude woman come in and tell me that she wasn't going to leave me a tip if she didn't have enough fries in her order. For those of you <i>not</i> in the know: <i style="font-weight: bold;">your server does NOT control the amount of food you receive unless we choose to throw it at you</i> which nearly happened in this case. Except that she and her friends left before I got that chance. Stupid cow. Go choke on a fry, for all I care.<br />
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Then, that <i>same</i> day, I had a man try to place a call in order, but I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. He was trying to spell his name, but I couldn't make out if he was saying a 'b' or a 'd'. Then, when I tried to ask him what it was he was saying, he went completely berserk on me. That was the final straw. I put in my two weeks notice that day.<br />
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<i>Thankfully</i>, I had a table a couple days before that had offered me a job as a bartender for one of the "adult entertainment clubs". Hell. Yeah. So, last night was my first night of training, I have server training tonight, and then I'll be back behind the bar. Woot woot!<br />
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In other news, as of the 18th, my divorce <i>should</i> be final. I'm hoping it will be. I am so ready to be rid of this. As usual, there are a lot of "%@#$%^&*(*^&%$#@%$^&*(&%$#@#% %$%^#@%#$^&^( $#%&#& %^*)$@&%$ " inserted into all that, but I'm just going to keep my mouth shut this time... or is "fingers still...?" I just really don't feel like going into it right now.<br />
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Let's see.... what else...? Oh yeah! My Captain comes into town today. He and I met on <a href="http://suicidegirls.com/" target="_blank">SG</a>, a few months back and have kept in contact for a while. So I'm excited to finally get to meet him in person. I doubt we'll get to tonight though. Ah well. C'est La Vie.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-unpucgJz0PU/T4CwyMYz3vI/AAAAAAAAAII/u6G4Js1axYc/s1600/ostara18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-unpucgJz0PU/T4CwyMYz3vI/AAAAAAAAAII/u6G4Js1axYc/s640/ostara18.jpg" width="432" /></a>In any case, I hope you all have a wonderful Easter weekend. Remember: Pagans had it first!! ^.~<br />
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One Day At A Time.<br />
<br /></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-44345195028689712232012-04-01T07:27:00.000-07:002012-04-01T07:27:10.588-07:00Day 209: Crazy, crazy, crazy, and more crazy.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day?" </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>-RENT</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Hello again, kids. So, seriously, I'm thinking of turning my life into a book one day. Or a TV Series. My life would easily fit into one it seems, sometimes. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Wednesday night, I got completely shmammered, and got to do something I've been aching to do for a <i>long</i> time. Pixie, Monkey and I were all hanging out having a Chick Night (plus token Penis) with the required chocolate, booze, and chick flicks. Well, after we'd gotten sufficiently lit, Pixie decided that we should all go for a walk around the apartment complex. {{Side note: Pixie is the old friend from high school I mentioned. The one I'm currently living with.}} Unfortunately, I'm one of the not-so-uncommon types that gets <i>more</i> buzzed if I move around while drinking. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So while we were out walking, we ended up at the playground near R's apartment {{ Did I fail to mention we all now live in the same complex? ... -.-' Yeeeeaaaahhhh....}} and were just joking around and laughing for a while until New Girlfriend showed up. That's when my mouth got the better of me a little bit, but I didn't actually <i>do</i> anything. Just ... got a little snarky.... and called her "trash". </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">{{Keep in mind, I am <i>not</i> proud of <i>any</i> of this part. I'll let you know when I get the part I <i>am</i> proud of.}}</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Well, that part blew over, of course, and we kept on doing what we had been; and then R came out of the apartment, walking, I assume, his dog; and that's when things got interesting. I don't remember a lot of it clearly, but I remember I had a good old fashioned, come-to-Jesus church sermon type discussion with Monkey and Pixie about how R didn't deserve me. I'd been a good wife to him for the most part. I'd done everything I could do for him, and he never appreciated any of it. So, basically, the light FINALLY came on upstairs. ... It gets better. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">As if that wasn't enough, R came over to try and talk to us after I called him a coward. That was when I finally got to do something I've been itching to do for years. I got in his face and <i>made</i> him listen to me while I completely unloaded on him about what a completely shitty asshole he is. Then, {{and this is the part I'm proud of in its twisted way}} for some reason that I don't entirely recall, I reared back and slapped the ever-loving piss out of him. I had been wanting to do that for <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">yeeeeaaaarrrrrssss.</u> Literally. Years. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now, I am not proud that I did all this while inebriated. Believe me. However, I am proud that I actually, finally, at least <i>did </i>it. In its own sick way, it made me feel a lot better about things. R is still trying to say that he pushed me into it. That he was goading me on so I <i>would</i>. Part of me believes him, but most of me doesn't give a shit; and <i>that</i> is one thing that I am infinitely proud of. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Unfortunately, all of that combined with other events made me realize something else as well. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I've had to almost completely cut Monkey out of my life now. I was reminded of just how far he'd fallen for me, and it scares the hell out of me. Don't get me wrong, he's a wonderful man; but I can't have someone in that position for me right now. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">He's hurt, and he's pissed at me, and he <i>should</i> be. Hell, he was in <i>my</i> position that I was in with R, so it's not like I don't know how he feels; but at least his was only a puppy love. He says it isn't, but I know the difference. Been there. Done that. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I still love him, obviously, but as I tried to tell him, he's so much further into this relationship than I am, it's only going to end up hurting him; and I won't do that to him. I can't. I care too much about him to put him through the hell I went through with R. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So I feel like an absolute shit for it, but I figured it would just be easier on him at least if we didn't really have anything to do with each other. For a <i>while</i>. We haven't even known each other for a year, and he was already saying he was "in love" with me. I can't have that. I still don't even love myself yet. I will though. In time. I just need to figure out who the hell I am to love. So does he; and I have the feeling he'll figure that out a lot sooner than I will. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, on a lighter note, I did something <i>else</i> I've been meaning to do for a while as well. I <i>finally</i> got my belly ring. I've been wanting to do it for years, but I finally just got the nerve up to do it, literally, the other day. I'm pretty excited, and proud. Sad, right? I'm twenty-one, and all giddy about a belly ring? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have to admit, though, I found it pretty ironic that while I was doing some research on how to care for it, I learned that belly rings are used in some forms of Hinduism as a ritual thing. They're connected to the Third Chakra, or Manipura, and associated with the control of our inner energy and control over our emotions. I'm still doing a little more homework on this one, since I would like to actually know what the hell it is that I'm talking about for sure, but I think that's the basic gist of it. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, my whomever-you-are's, this is where I leave you. Have to get ready for work. I have a fun-filled day of wrestling, very little tips, and very angry rednecks ahead of me. Woo-fucking-hoo. Ah well. I'll get through it, right? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">One Day At A Time. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Song today: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYjZK_6i37M&ob=av2e" target="_blank">Godsmack - Voodoo</a></div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-87041070196136689082012-03-28T12:41:00.000-07:002012-03-28T12:41:47.188-07:00Day 205: So empty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I hate having to be honest with myself. It means having to admit that all of this hurts. That I hate how I feel. That even I feel in the first place. I am so tired of always having to be strong. Of forcing myself to push through things. When what I need, and really want, is not be okay for a while. To just allow myself to admit that it hurts, that I am weak once in a while, and that it's okay to not be okay. I don't know how to do that, though. I've always been the one saying, "I'll live." Yet true as that statement is, I don't want to just live. <br />
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I always feel so torn, because the logical part of me, the <em>adult</em> part of me, honestly, wants to move on. Is saying, "Girl, get over this! Come on, already!" Yet so much of me is still saying, "But what if..." What if I could fix it? What if I could do something better this time? <br />
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I'm sure everyone is sick to death of me harping on the same things over and over by now. I'm sorta sick of <em>myself</em> at this point. But I can't help it. I don't know how to stop feeling like I should have done something differently. I can't help searching back and trying to find exactly where it was that I screwed up so much that R felt he had to push me away. I don't jknow where it was, honestly. I know I screwed up a lot at the end, after he had already made it clear that he was no longer interested in being with me, but what could I do to have pushed him to that point? <br />
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It's even worse because I have a lot of people telling me how "great" and "wonderful" I am. I get showered with compliments every day, but I can almost never believe any of them, because it always comes back to the same thing: Than why couldn't <em>he</em> see that? Why <em>doesn't</em> he? <br />
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So I just.... I feel so empty inside now. Like a piece of me has died a little. Yet at the same time, I just feel so consumed with pain. As if I'll never feel anything else again. I feel so pathetic for all of this, too. The "strong" part of me is so furious with this side. As if I'm two different people in one body. The strong part that has already moved on and is saying a big "fuck you, sir" to R; and then the larger part, who is still so weak, and fragile, wanting so desperately just to be loved. <br />
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Then again, that's the problem, isn't it? I want to be loved, but I can never decide by whom. <br />
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I love R, and I want to be with him, or at least try to be with him again. If only for the boys' sake. Yet I also love Monkey. Which is why I broke things off with him when I realized how easily I could hurt him. Then, of course, there's Frank. Who has alway s been there for me, but never within my grasp. He's the lucky one in all of this, I think. <br />
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So what do you do when you have so much love that you so desperatly want to give someone, yet - for various reasons - can't? <br />
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Take things, as ever, One Day At A Time, I suppose... </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-3122374199787217012012-03-24T10:50:00.001-07:002012-03-24T10:54:17.211-07:00Day 201: Hello again, minions.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So.... crap. It's been well over a month.... again. I really do suck at this. Granted, it's been a very busy month.<br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_220089989"><br />
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Highlights, you ask? Sure.<br />
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<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I turned 21 on the 23rd. That was kinda cool. I can now, legally, become an alcoholic, which I'm kind of afraid of, honestly, but so far have avoided. </li>
<li>I found out that one of my friends from high school who I hadn't seen in over a year, was finally back in town, which tickled me pink. I was so glad to find out about that. Especially considering...</li>
<li>Monkey and I got kicked out of our place with his friends. Rather, <i>I</i> got kicked out, and he came along. They were getting involved in a lot of things that I don't agree with, so it was only a matter of time anyway, but still. </li>
<li>So, now I live with aforementioned friend and I broke things off with Monkey because....</li>
<li>I found out that R is now seeing my ex best friend from High school. The one I've mentioned <a href="http://f-itall.blogspot.com/2011/09/how-do-i-get-through-it-day-10.html">before</a>. I knew it was only a matter of time, but still, there's a part of me that just wants to slap both of them. </li>
</ul><div>It wouldn't have been so bad, necessarily, if it weren't for the simple fact that I've been considering trying again with R. For a good while. We owe it to the kids to try again. Well, unfortunately, before I could talk to him about it, I realized what was going on. So I <i>tried</i> to be smart and not say anything, but I just couldn't. So I stupidly told him how I felt, only to be told that he's now "happy and in love" with <i>her</i> and wants "nothing more to do with [me]". </div><div><br />
</div><div>You'd think I'd have learned, right? After all, I spent months talking about how "over him" I was. How "happy" I was. Yada yada yada <i>bullshit. </i>I'm just mad at myself that it took <i>this</i> for me to realize just how <i>not</i> over things I am. I've been lying to myself for the longest simply because I <i>wanted</i> it to be that way. Desperately. That's not how it works. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm not over R. Not by a long shot. I am still pathetically in love with my husband. I still <i>want</i> to be in love with him. I want to try and make my family work. I want my <i>home</i> to work. I just want to feel like I can come home to something again. Even at our worst, I knew I could come home to my family and the people I love. Yet he doesn't want to try. He's "put too much money into this divorce" to even consider trying again. </div><div><br />
</div><div>What hurts the most, honestly, is that one of the biggest reasons we separated was because he wouldn't support my dream of joining the military. I just wanted to be able to help care for my family, but he wouldn't agree to let me go because he "couldn't trust" me. Well, Girlfriend leaves on April 18th for the NAVY. Go fucking figure; and he's okay with it because he can "actually <i>trust</i> her". Just one more reason for me to beat the living crap out of both of them. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So, unfortunately, I slipped into "Cunt-mode" and said and did a lot of really nasty, ugly things. To both of them. Granted, I still think she's tacky for getting into things, considering our history with her, and it infuriates me that he's so quickly "in love" with someone else, <i>but</i> it's not my place to tell him what he can and can't do. I'll let him screw this one up all on his own. I outwardly - and <i>mostly </i>inwardly - hope he doesn't, but the part of me that knows <i>him</i>, knows he will, and is sorta banking on it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I feel like an absolute shit for that, but it's the truth, and I can't/won't apologize for how I feel. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Everyone keeps asking me, "Why? Why do you even want to try again? After everything this asshole has done, why bother?" Well, because, at the end of the day, he is still my husband and still the father of my children; and I still love him. If only for that fact alone. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>Now, here I am <i>trying</i> to get myself together - again. Unfortunately, I already know that's not going to happen if I stay here. I'm a waitress for a living, with no real job or life experience. Not exactly the best combination for taking care of a toddler. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So, once this divorce is final, which <i>should </i>be within the next month or so, I'll be signing up for the Air Force and getting the hell out of Dodge. I can't stay here and watch Numbnuts replace me. Especially when there's nothing here for me to do. The only thing left for me here is Boogie, and he's honestly better off with his dad right now, considering my present situation. So.... there's that. I'm not thrilled about it in the least, but I just have to do what I have to do, I guess. </div><div><br />
</div><div>One Day At A Time. </div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-45516111544079618732012-02-16T10:18:00.000-08:002012-02-16T10:18:51.631-08:00Day 157: Clearance chocolate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I was <em>going</em> to post this yesterday, but I got really sick before I could. I started off okay, but around noon or so, I started feeling pretty rough; and it just went downhill from there. My stomach was hurting too badly for me to eat anything, so my sugar dropped- a LOT - which didn't help when the fever came on. So I ended up literally passing out. I don't really know how long I was out. Just that when I woke up, Monkey was force-feeding me crackers, chocolate, and gatorade.<br />
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Apparently, I was running around 103.6 (found this out later) when he got home, so he made me take some children's Triaminic (I'm hyper sensitive to meds) which brought the worst of it down, but it all came back later that night. <br />
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Thankfully, though, I'm a little better today. The fever's gone at least. I still feel really drained, though. Which sucks, cause Boogie's home; but he's been my big helper today. Playing quietly and checking on me now and then. "You okay mommy?" I have the coolest kid ever.<br />
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Anyway, to get to the theme for today. As we all know, Valentines was earlier this week. One word: yuk. I never have been and never will be a fan of Valentine's day. I think it's overrated and nothing more than another Hallmark holiday. The only thing I look forward to is the chocolate that goes on clearance the day after. I was surprised to find out that a couple of my friends were into it; but luckily, the one person it applied to hates it as much as I do. So while it's nice and all to do something sweet and lovely for your valentine, I think it's better to show them everyday how much they mean to you, instead of just one. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dBZsLed7WbM/Tz08Ouk8cFI/AAAAAAAAAHs/VyFdBcmT47U/s1600/423302_2666177974748_1264986161_32147195_1998493372_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dBZsLed7WbM/Tz08Ouk8cFI/AAAAAAAAAHs/VyFdBcmT47U/s200/423302_2666177974748_1264986161_32147195_1998493372_n.jpg" width="150" yda="true" /></a>In other news: I had an audition for one of the local Burlesque troupes Monday. I couldn't get my costume ready in time to do a dance, so I opted to just sing instead. I did my face up all nice and pretty :</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6pFXK2ua7YM/Tz08xH0YfNI/AAAAAAAAAH0/n6bh4phykJE/s1600/418572_2666241056325_1264986161_32147205_1651453641_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6pFXK2ua7YM/Tz08xH0YfNI/AAAAAAAAAH0/n6bh4phykJE/s1600/418572_2666241056325_1264986161_32147205_1651453641_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6pFXK2ua7YM/Tz08xH0YfNI/AAAAAAAAAH0/n6bh4phykJE/s200/418572_2666241056325_1264986161_32147205_1651453641_n.jpg" width="150" yda="true" /></a>As well as my hair! I even had a cute little outfit on, but I didn't get any pictures of that, unfortunately. I thought I did a pretty crap job of it because I let my nerves get the best of me. I was way too quiet and I almost fell off of my shoes. So I'd pretty much resigned myself to trying again next time...</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Then, while I was at <a href="http://leelavadee.net/">work</a> Tuesday morning, I got the message that they actually wanted me to perform with them!! I was so excited, I started squealing like a toddler and scared the hell out of my boss and our supplier rep. It was kind of funny, honestly. They were looking at me like I was completely mad. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">So, we start rehearsals for the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/events/101326743327870/">show</a> on Monday, and I can't <em>wait</em>! I'm still really nervous, in all honesty, but I'm really looking forward to it. This is going to be awesome!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">As always, though. I've got to remember to not get ahead of myself, breathe, and take things One Day at a Time.</div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-91967986031493979122012-02-11T10:41:00.000-08:002012-02-11T10:41:23.191-08:00Day 152: Bitch, please.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So.... I <em>normally</em> try to be a kind person. I don't really enjoy being mean. I prefer to just be the laid back, cool, relaxed chick. ... <br />
<br />
However! Once in a blue moon (as in, once a month or so) I hit full on bitch mode. Which, honestly, wouldn't be so bad if I were <em>just</em> a bitch; but no. I become uber-bitch. Just completely cunt-tastic. My patience with stupidity is <em>nil</em>. So, naturally, it just <em>has</em> to come around. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Last night, I received a message on FB from the Raven (the chick R rebounded with; long story. I'll explain later). So....</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uv2OsxEUOu0/Tzau6qlqzgI/AAAAAAAAAHg/eUEdMIQ81sQ/s1600/302002_2109207970846_1264986161_31911905_1188723612_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uv2OsxEUOu0/Tzau6qlqzgI/AAAAAAAAAHg/eUEdMIQ81sQ/s200/302002_2109207970846_1264986161_31911905_1188723612_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So this is everything that's happened so far:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Raven: Kinda weird to be messaging you considering everything that's happened. But have recently been told you were wondering how I was doing?</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="color: #38761d;">Me: Um... not...really.... Haven't given you much thought to be honest. I've got other stuff on my mind.</span><span style="color: #38761d;">Though, for the record, you look just like [The Cat] in your profile pic.</span></strong></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Raven: I thought so. When I was told that I thought it was a little weird and wanted to ask. And I understand. What woman doesn't have alot on their mind. lol. And come on you know I'm prettier than [the Cat], I don't look too much like her fat ass other than hair color. Plus I'm not psycho like her.</strong></div><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>Me: That-all of it- could be up for debate. Personally, I'd put you two on relatively equal ground. [R]seemed to.<br />
If I gave a shit about you, you'd know. As it is, I don't.</strong></span><br />
<br />
<strong>Raven: Well I was just curious, and wanted to ask about it. It was just random, and out of the blue. And he kinda put all three of us on equal ground, considering everything that has happened. Though that is now the past and I am not going to be affected by it any longer. I only pray that he and the boys find happiness one day.</strong><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>Me: Spare the lines. I'm not interested in hearing it. <br />
As it is, neither you nor Cat-bitch will ever compare to me, that's why you were the rebounds. <br />
I noticed you changed your picture. Gee, I wonder why.</strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Like I said. When bitch mode comes out, it is OUT. As I've been told before, and I'm sure will be told again, "Ginger bitch don't play." Was I too mean? Probably. Do I care? Not remotely. I only have so much patience with a person, and she exhausted it a long time ago; but that's a story for another day. </span><br />
<br />
It's not even as if it's a bad day, though. I've actually had a pretty good morning. I'm just... Gr. I'm on my period and I don't have a lot of patience for stupidity on a <em>normal</em> day; so when I'm like this, it's just that much worse. I just want to look at someone and do the whole, "Come at me, bitch," thing. Immature? Probably. Stupid? Definitely. Worth it? More than likely. <br />
<br />
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<br />
In other news, I've got a job interview Tuesday afternoon. Yay! <br />
<br />
I've got my audition Monday night. I've decided I'm going to do two pieces. I'm going to sing and dance. The surprise will be the show. I'm keeping the rest of it hush, hush for now. I'm really excited about it, though. I can't wait. <br />
<br />
Let's see.... anything else of note? .... Ah. <br />
<br />
Trying to introduce Monkey to some of the old classic films. We started watching <em>Gentlemen Prefer Blondes</em> the other night, but we never finished it. We were supposed to watch <em>Breakfast at Tiffany's</em> last night, but there was a lot going on, so.... it didn't get seen either. <br />
<br />
So, I'm still working on it with him, but.... we'll see. <br />
<br />
I can't wait to get Boogie this Sunday. I'm trying to see about getting him into a day care, but I need his social, which I don't have and his birth certificate is going to take forever to get here. Gotta love freaking Mississippi. I've literally sent off for his birth certificate no less than three times, and still have yet to get it. This is the last time I mail off for it before I call down and get Bitchy. So... Fingers crossed. <br />
<br />
In the meantime, as always, I'll just go One Day At A Time.</div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-28213348004414072972012-02-07T10:58:00.000-08:002012-02-09T10:56:04.252-08:00Day 148: Pack Mentality<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, the other night while I was watching the Super Bowl with everyone, I couldn't help but realize that it felt nice to be part of a family again. I haven't been in far too long. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It felt odd to acknowledge it like that, but... it felt good. I like it. I mean, I know they <em>said</em> I was part of the family now, but... I actually realized it then. With everyone there, laughing, having a good time, and cutting up together. It was a nice change. It's not <em>really</em> like it's anything new by now, honestly but it's a much better change of pace. For the first time since... since Kao passed, I feel like I really belong somewhere. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IeZjCrYu1tk/TzFr4p4sQ0I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gfbvxEbMQlA/s1600/wolf_pack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IeZjCrYu1tk/TzFr4p4sQ0I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gfbvxEbMQlA/s200/wolf_pack.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I always feel better in a pack. As odd as that may sound. I'm a bit of a solitary pack animal, in all honesty. I prefer being with a pack, but I enjoy my privacy just as much. I like being able to be included, but I don't want to constantly be bombarded with people, people, people. </div><br />
At the end of the day, I like being able to relax and cuddle up with someone/thing warm to enjoy some quiet time. <br />
<br />
Speaking of, I could totally use some. Soon. <br />
<br />
Especially since I finally met Monkey's mother yesterday. I wasn't a particular fan of hers to begin with, from everything I'd been told about her; but I'm not too worried about it, since she doesn't seem to think too highly of me either. Surprise! Not that I particularly blame her, but it <em>was</em> kind of funny, considering she kept giving me the "You're just a slutty firecrotch!" look. Monkey was thrilled. <br />
<br />
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<br />
In other news:<br />
<br />
It's odd how much things have changed since R and I separated. <br />
<br />
I found out in December that I'm related to one of my regular couples from work (through marriage). Well, I hadn't seen them since this particular discovery was made. Until yesterday. <br />
<br />
They're normally very kind to me. Boogie and their daughter aren't very far apart in age, so we'd talk about them, or just about whatever else. Yesterday, though, they were really standoffish. Well, the wife was anyway. The husband was still pretty friendly, but a lot quieter than normal. His wife just gave me the same look I've gotten used to getting from the rest of his family, though. The Snub; sinc, naturally, I'm just so much <em>less</em> than them, so far as they're concerned. <br />
<br />
It wouldn't have bothered me so much, I think, if it weren't for the fact that I've known them for <em>years</em>. They've been coming to the restaraunt longer than I've been working there. So I've known them for a while now. Yet, all of a sudden, they're going to start acting like that, because of - no doubt - what they were told by R's family. It just.... It's infuriating. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt, but there's really nothing to be done about it. If she <em>chooses</em> to feel that way about me, then there's nothing I can do, except be as kind to them as I've always ever been. Maybe one day things will turn around, but in the meantime, I'll just remain the best person I can. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8NdI-Qw6V1M/TzF0Cda8W7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/trKvE_bsox8/s1600/Keller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8NdI-Qw6V1M/TzF0Cda8W7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/trKvE_bsox8/s320/Keller.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-20857827213216690142012-02-04T12:32:00.000-08:002012-02-04T12:32:27.604-08:00Day 145: Acclimating<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Alright kids. So, I promise - yet again - I'll try to make sure I'll be on more often for my updates. "Try" being the operative word, there. <br />
<br />
So I'm still getting used to things here at the new place. I don't feel <em>as</em> awkward around everyone. I still feel like the odd duck out, though. They're all into hunting - or "harvesting" as Monkey insists is the term - and I'm definitely NOT. For example, right now - literally - they're watching some DVD about Bowfishing. Which really wouldn't bother me, normally if it were <em>just</em> fish, but they were just showing them getting Manta and Stingrays as well as a Snapping Turtle. It was <em>horrible</em>!! The poor Rays were trying so hard to get away, and the Turtle didn't even have a chance. They caught it through the head, but didn't manage to actually KILL it with the hoook. <br />
<br />
I'm not naive. I'm well aware that, for food, something has to die. That's just the way it works. Whether it's a plant or an animal, circle of life goes one way. Birth. Death. I get it. I just don't necessarily <em>agree</em> with it. <br />
<br />
I feel like such a wuss, sitting here with all of them. They're all watching it, and they're okay; but I'm having to stop myself from crying here. Mostly because of the turtles. The poor things... <br />
<br />
I mean, I now it's their thing, and I don't fault them for it at all. They enjoy it, and that's fine. I just.... I can't do it. At all. <br />
<br />
Nope. Not happening. No thanks. Like I just explained to them. It's the thought of hurting and killing something. I just can't do it. I'm a healer not a hunter. <br />
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<br />
Soooo.... what else? What else? Hmmm.... Not much, really. <br />
<br />
Still haven't found a new job, but I'm - obviously - going to keep looking. Wish me luck, right? <br />
<br />
Didn't do anything for Imbolc after all. Nothing official, anyway. I was feeling a little down, though, so I lit up some candles and used them as my only light while I took a long, hot, relaxing shower. It was awesome. I wasn't really thinking about the day, though. It wasn't until ... about 5 minutes ago that I even put two and two together. <br />
<br />
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<br />
Oh, also, I've got an audition for one of the local Burlesque troops here on the 13th. I'm really excited! I have a concept, and the music (which I still have to put on a tape/CD), and an idea for the costume. Now I just have to put it all together.... in a little over a week.... Le` Sigh. <br />
<br />
Again, Wish me Luck.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I'll just do as I do. One Day At A Time. <br />
<br />
<br />
Today's Haha picture:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xe74ijieVA4/Ty2VxC9As3I/AAAAAAAAAHI/2PCnF51wrCI/s1600/superior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xe74ijieVA4/Ty2VxC9As3I/AAAAAAAAAHI/2PCnF51wrCI/s400/superior.jpg" width="300" /></a></div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-15517928873292779612012-01-26T12:47:00.000-08:002012-01-26T12:47:02.123-08:00Day 136: Ho-lee bawls.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I didn't realize how long it had been since I'd last been on here to update you guys. A lot has happened in the last month. I now get to see Boogie week by week, since R finally realized that would be easier for him. Granted, R is still insisting on being a complete douche-face. Go figure. <br />
<br />
Also, I had to move out of my parents' place. My mother and I got into a huge argument after I busted my sisters for stealing my things. Including money from my wallet. My parents refused to see what was going on though, and refused to admit it was a problem, which was just irritating as all get out. There was a lot of other stuff involved, of course, but I'll leave out the gory details. Suffice it to say, the stealing was the last straw. <br />
<br />
So now I'm living with some of Monkey's friends, out in the middle of nowhere. It's not too bad, since there's plenty of room, but, unfortunately, there's not a lot to do. We're about twenty minutes away from everything; and I'm already looking for a new job, since I'm about thirty minutes away from <a href="http://www.leelavadee.net/">Work</a>.<br />
<br />
On the whole, though, I enjoy it here. My Roommates are pretty cool, though I still worry that I may come off as a little snobby, since I'm so quiet around them. I try no to be, but they've all known each other for years, and I'm still getting used to them. So it's still taking some time to warm up to them. I like them, though. I'm definitely getting an education while I'm here, that's for sure. <br />
<br />
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<br />
Anyway, yesterday, I was having kind of a rough day morning. I was looking for some baby shower gifts for my roommates, and couldn't help but think about all the times R and I went looking for baby stuff for Boogie. It was a little beyond depressing. So, I did the whole "poor - me" thing for a minute, but then I caught a hold of myself and I was okay. I just had to refocus my thoughts. SO, my little mantra for all of yesterday, and I think for all of my weak moments like that is this: <br />
<br />
I am stronger than all of this. I am stronger than I think I am. I am <em>not</em> my emotions. I am above them. I am above the pain. Above the self-loathing. I am <em>myself</em>. I <em>am</em> strength. <br />
<br />
Oddly enough, it helped. <br />
<br />
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<br />
In other news.... Hmm.... Is there really any other news? ............. I don't believe so. <br />
<br />
Oh yeah. Trying to get more in touch with my pagan side. To really explore my beliefs and some of the rituals and practices that go along with it. I may set up a small altar here in my room, but I'll have to check with the others first to make sure they're okay with it. If nothing else, I can keep my supplies in one of the drawers. We still have plenty of room, so it's entirely possible. I would <em>like</em> to do something for Imbolc, but I don't know if they would be okay with it, so I guess it's on hold for right now. <br />
<br />
If nothing else, I may just have a small candle-ceremony. Nothing formal or ornate. Just something small to celebrate the coming of spring. <br />
<br />
If any of you have any tips, they'd be much appreciated. In the mean time, I'm going to figure out how to build up this altar. <br />
<br />
For now, my darlings, I bid you adieu, and I will - hopefully - remember to speak with you again soon. Be good, my lovelies, and - as always - take things One day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-57523292915963452442011-12-27T20:19:00.000-08:002011-12-27T20:19:17.786-08:00Day 106: Hmm... what to say??<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, things are a little calmer now, and, to be perfectly honest, I'm actually quite content with it. Things are quieter, more peaceful, and otherwise just .... <i>less</i>. Which I am totally okay with. I told myself earlier this month that I wanted to make up my Christmas List; but instead of things, I wrote down what I wanted, in terms of myself. What did I expect from myself? What did I want <i>for</i> myself? What did I want to change and why? Since it's me, of course, I had pages upon pages of stuff; but at the end of it, I went back through, and realized that a lot of it was essentially the same thing, but only worded differently or one could stem from another. <br />
<br />
That was when I decided to scrap that list and start over. So here it is. My entire list...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Happiness</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">That was it. I just want to be happy. I know, it seems kind of lame, since everyone wants that in one way or another, but it's not that simple. That one word comes from me breaking down a lot of other things. Such as:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">~Getting over R. For good.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">~Going back to school</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">~Getting a better paying job</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">And in short, just becoming the person I know I can be. It's going to take some work, but I'm hopeful. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">What better time for all these changes except the New Year, right? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">With all of this, I realized, I almost wanted to start this blog over, but with all that you few... whoever's you are have read, that didn't seem fair.</span></span> Instead, I'm just going to do this: </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">--------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hello. My name is Ayla. I'm your typical Pisces. Moody, hypochondriac, sensitive, empathetic, sensual, sexually all over the place, etc. I'm also your typical redhead. Feisty (not short-tempered), vivacious, more than a little nutty, etc. Elementally speaking, I'm all things Water and Fire. Which, of course, leads to more than a few "WTF" moments. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have days where I have all the patience and kindness in the world; and then I have some where I'm completely cunt-tastic. I have days where I don't care what <i>anyone</i> says or thinks about me; and then there are some where a stranger looking at me wrong can have me in tears. I try to do the typical mother, nurture, heal thing to those I care about; but can just as quickly turn around and whoop the ever loving hell out of them or anyone who messes with them. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I am a walking dichotomy. I'm everything that is a woman, but act and think more like a man (traditionally thinking). I try to put the past behind me, but oftentimes find myself dwelling in it, even when I least want to. There are days I just want to scream my lungs out at how unfair things are and how pissed off I am at how things have turned out. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">But you know the really funny part about all this? ... It's me. That's it. I'm sick of apologizing for who I am. If you can't accept me for who I am, that's on you. I'm done trying to be someone I'm not. My personality is as ever-changing and all -encompassing as ... my taste in music. I am Classical, and Swing, and Rock, and Hip-hop and just a little bit of everything! I am who I am, and every day I learn to love that more. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have some <i>truly</i> amazing friends, and I'm really beginning to realize how lucky I am to have them. My son, Boogie, is all that I could ask for when it comes to being wonderful. He lights up every day. All of them have helped through so much and have provided more laughter and happiness than anyone else ever did. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So... I guess what all this goes to say is that I am on the journey to find my Ice Cream Truck. Stick around, if you dare, and let's see where this goes. Shall we? As ever, one day at a time. </div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-75669724376722090242011-12-25T11:31:00.000-08:002011-12-25T11:31:44.044-08:00Day 104: Christmas Catch up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So... two weeks later -- again. What all's happened? Well...<br />
<br />
1.) Monkey had his fight and was awesome. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yh1PrqwhnyA&feature=youtu.be">Here</a>'s the fight, if you're interested. It's kind of a bad edit, though; and yes... That's <i>twenty-seven</i> seconds. We all kinda felt bad for the other guy, because he'd only just started training; unfortunately, there were a lot of fights like that, though. A <i>lot</i> of the fighter's dropped out at the last minute. It was so lame; but still a great time.<br />
<br />
2.)<a href="http://www.leelavadee.net/">Work</a>'s been great. We've picked up a little bit. Thankfully. Let's hope this keeps up.<br />
<br />
3.) Christmas so far has been great. I've had Boogie all week, which has been absolutely amazing. We've had a lot of fun; and he's loving his presents. It was so funny watching him, because he didn't even know what to do with them at first. He just kinda looked at them and had the <i>best</i> "WTF" face; but then he was off and going, and he's <i>still</i> tearing up paper. I think just because he likes the sound.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D_0Dkxc0gzc/TvdxNPsfcnI/AAAAAAAAAGA/iquzy7OQ73o/s1600/ayla_1851sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D_0Dkxc0gzc/TvdxNPsfcnI/AAAAAAAAAGA/iquzy7OQ73o/s200/ayla_1851sm.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>4.) Oh yeah. Had another photo shoot Sunday night. Went <i>so</i> well. This is one of them. >>>> The rest are a no-no for on here, but I love them. We tried to base them off of Marilyn Monroe and did the famous one of her with the red background, and I'm really proud of the results.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GLLYNlqmlDI/Tvdx2Y2eF8I/AAAAAAAAAGM/8XFuv8XjU9E/s1600/396972_2802625352021_1450203084_2824560_2079063709_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GLLYNlqmlDI/Tvdx2Y2eF8I/AAAAAAAAAGM/8XFuv8XjU9E/s200/396972_2802625352021_1450203084_2824560_2079063709_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>5.) Also, went to the Annual Christmas Party for the local "talent". That was a blast. Took a lot of great pictures there as well, but this is probably one of my favorites. You can kinda see Monkey in the back. I kept joking with him about how I looked like a naughty June Cleaver cause I had the white top/black skirt combo... with a black underbust corset. Which I am <i>very</i> proud to say I can finally fit into. Which leads me to...<br />
<br />
6.) I'm FINALLY back down to the 150 range! I'm aiming for 130-ish, but I'm right on track with my weight loss plan, so I'm <i>thrilled</i>. Major woo-hoo for me! <br />
<br />
Hmmm... Can't remember if I'm forgetting anything or not... SO. We're just going to go on the assumption that I remembered everything, I'm going to go tickle Boogie until he can't breathe, and otherwise just enjoy my Christmas. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">M<span style="color: red;">e</span>r<span style="color: red;">r</span>y <span style="color: red;">C</span>h<span style="color: red;">r</span>i<span style="color: red;">s</span>t<span style="color: red;">m</span>a<span style="color: red;">s</span> E<span style="color: red;">v</span>e<span style="color: red;">r</span>y<span style="color: red;">o</span>n<span style="color: red;">e</span>!<span style="color: red;">!</span>!</span></i></b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TIKtLAfG5Ic/Tvd44unciVI/AAAAAAAAAGY/am_fiPC7TN0/s1600/GFTHOL01C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TIKtLAfG5Ic/Tvd44unciVI/AAAAAAAAAGY/am_fiPC7TN0/s640/GFTHOL01C.jpg" width="414" /></a><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: large;">A<span style="color: black;">n</span>d<span style="color: black;"> H</span>a<span style="color: black;">p</span>p<span style="color: black;">y </span>N<span style="color: black;">e</span>w <span style="color: black;">Y</span>e<span style="color: black;">a</span>r<span style="color: black;">!</span></span></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-41453717981311739892011-12-09T18:44:00.000-08:002011-12-09T18:44:46.589-08:00Day 90: Back on Track<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Don't get too excited. I meant that as in, I'm getting back on track with my <a href="http://f-itall.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-54-hell-hath-no-fury.html">shameless acts</a>. So, here's to number twenty four. Share a struggle you have yet to “just get over.” Names have been changed, for all the good it will do. Bear in mind that I wrote this at 2350 last night, so it's a little rambley-ramble.<br />
<br />
They say that unrequited love burns the longest, the brightest, and is the last to fade. It's the desire of the unreachable. That knowledge that we can never have what we want most. It's as if we are a recovering addict from a drug that - oftentimes - we never took.<br />
<br />
<br />
That's how it is for me. That's how I feel about Frank. As bad as it may sound. He knows, of course, but neither of us is in any position to do anything about it. Nor would we, I think. We've had so many chances. So many opportunities. Yet... yet something always holds us back. There's always been a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or distance. Timing has never worked in our favor.<br />
<br />
I have been hopelessly love-struck by this person for - literally - years. It started when we were only kids and I was just starting to notice that boys - particularly <i>this</i> one - were actually rather interesting. It got worse when we were reunited in high school. I almost couldn't believe it was him at first. I hadn't seen him in almost two years, and he'd changed, a lot; but I knew it was him even though he didn't remember me. At all.<br />
<br />
I'd follow him around like some simpering puppy, just hoping to see that smile. Even better if were directed at me. It made me nearly breathless whenever he gave me <i>that</i> look. But then he graduated and we seemed to move on with our individual lives. Each of us headed directly toward our own train wrecks. We'd talk on Myspace occasionally, but for the most part, we just sort of drifted away from each other. <br />
<br />
Until my own marriage really started collapsing.<br />
<br />
He was the only person I really felt comfortable talking to about anything. He'd gone through his own situation, and he was <i>familiar</i>. He was my Frank. I could tell him anything. Which, naturally, did not sit well with R. He continued to grow increasingly jealous. I can't say as I blame him, honestly; but I just couldn't trust him the way I could Frank.<br />
<br />
It's remained that way, since my separation from R. Frank and I have continued to talk; but it's not as "innocent" as it used to be. Without meaning to, he's hurt me - a few times. In all fairness to him, though, I've walked myself into it almost every time. I tend to set myself up for failure where he's concerned.<br />
<br />
So I've told myself, and him, several times over that we shouldn't talk anymore. Shouldn't have anything to do with each other - especially considering current circumstances. Yet no matter how many times I say it, I can't keep to it.<br />
<br />
No matter how hard I try to fight it, my heart still does a little skip whenever I see I've got a message from him. I still get a little breathless when I think about how I felt to be in his arms- even if it <i>was</i> just a hug. If something that simple, or a <i>smile</i> could make me feel this way - especially for so long - it <i>has</i> to mean something right?<br />
<br />
... Most likely, it just means that despite my attempts at seeming to the contrary, I am still, at heart, a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on the "hopeless" bit.<br />
<br />
Ah well. C'est la mon vie, non?<br />
<br />
I've got so many other things to think of, though. Just have to keep reminding myself to take it a day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-54166830796281406452011-12-04T21:43:00.000-08:002011-12-04T21:44:54.733-08:00Day 85: Meditation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, major yay. I found my Druid Oracle!! I keep my <a href="http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/druid-plant-oracle/">Plant</a> and <a href="http://www.tarotpassages.com/druidanimal-vp.htm">Animal</a> decks together, even though I'm more familiar with my animals. I've had them <i>much</i> longer, so I'm more familiar with them. Anyway, it was slow at work today, so I did a Brighid's Cross Spread, which contrary to how it sounds, goes round in a circle with eight cards at and between each of the directions, and a ninth in the center, at the "heart of the matter". It's supposed to be good for gaining insight to issues of healing, and since that's been one of my biggest problems today, I figured it made the most sense. So, I put it all down in my little journal, and this is what I got. I've shortened it a good bit, for time's sake.<br />
<br />
<i>Asked for guidance in my divorce and in a relationship I've been considering getting into once this is all over and finished. Drew mostly animals. Fitting, since that's who I'm most accustomed to. My animals are an extension. Still getting familiar with the plants. </i><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i>Blackbird - Guardian of the gateway</i></li>
<li><i>Chamomile - Rest, Guardianship, Regen</i>e<i>ration</i></li>
<li><i> Poppy (Rev) - Languidness, Excess, Indifference</i></li>
<li><i>Ivy (Rev) - Ambivalence, Tenacity, Support</i></li>
<li><i>Wolf (Rev) -</i> I always dread this card. It was his. </li>
<li><i>Raven - Healing, Initiation, Protection</i></li>
<li><i>Adder - Transformation, healing, life energy</i></li>
<li><i> Earth Dragon - Power, potential, Riches</i></li>
</ul><i>Still have to draw final card, but I'm almost scared to. Almost everything relates somehow to birth and death. The cycle of leaving one form for another; and I can't help but wonder if it means I actually may <u>need</u> this relationship I've been contemplating. </i><br />
<i>Could it be that, in some way, getting into this would help me find myself? My "inner strength" as it were? </i><br />
<i>If so, how? I'm not sure I'm ready for another relationship; but it seems</i> <i>as if that's what I'm being guided towards. Or maybe it's what I <u>want</u> to be guided toward? I can't deny that I wouldn't <u>like</u></i> <i>to be in a relationship again, but am I really ready for one? Honestly? </i><br />
<br />
<i>Last Card:</i><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i>Burdock (Rev) Outcast, scapegoating, blame</i></li>
</ul><i>So... this comes out of nowhere, but I can see how it makes sense. If I can resolve the blaming issue, everything else might be that much easier. Question is: how? </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>I know that, perhaps, I have been blaming R too much for a lot of my issues. Regardless of the fact that a good many of them come from my experience with him, it's on <u>me</u> to make peace with it and accept the fact that not everyone is like him. R is a breed and beast unto himself; and I'm afraid that's how he'll remain. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Conversely, the burdock could also be pointing out that R is blaming for... Gods know what anymore. It seems, some days, as if he'd blame me if he got a hang nail. He's already accused me of so much, it's ridiculous.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Perhaps it means nothing, coming from someone who can't find her own, but I really do hope that he'll find his peace one day. That both of us will. Though, truthfully, as wretched as it may be, I also look forward to the day he gets his comeuppance. Perhaps it's that desire alone that, in its way, prevents it from happening. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>I <u>try</u> to never wish ill will toward anyone but R is truly a study in the phrase, "pain in the ass". Perhaps, instead, I should just be wishing more for this to reach as peaceful an end as possible. I already do, of course; but I still wish, in my darkest heart for there to be a measure of justice exacted upon him. I don't want him physically harmed, but I still want him hurt. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Then again... he already is, isn't he? No matter how much he lies to others and himself, <u>I</u> can see that he's hurting. Why else would he be doing these things? Then I think on the fact that he will <u>always</u> be hurting. He will always be a bitter, hateful person - just like his father; and I almost pity him. He's made himself completely awful and will forever be, won't he? I suppose some people would be content in that, but I'm not... </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>In all honesty.... I don't even know if I want him to hurt. Not really. I say I do, and I <u>do</u>, but I don't. If that makes any sense. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>I still love him. Regardless of everything. I love him; but even with that, I hate him. Rather, I hate what he's done; and I would be crazy to forgive him for it, but if he were to come to me tomorrow and were <u>genuinely</u> apologetic, I would do exactly that. I wouldn't take him back, mind you; but I'd be willing to forgive him if it meant that this could all just be over and I could just go on with my life. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>I'm so tired of shedding tears for him I'm tired of hoping and wishing that things will change - knowing they won't. I seem to be going in circles where he's concerned. Trust me, the irony here is anything but lost on me. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Round and round and round I'll go. Will I stop? I'll never know.</i><br />
<br />
<i>------------------------------------------------------------</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
So yeah. That's that. I'll definitely be spending some more time meditating on this for the next few days or so. I'll very likely be picking up some chamomile tea. Maybe that will help. Sage too, if I can find some at this time of year.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Any other advice for some more focusing herbs/stones? I'm already going to be breaking out the candles.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Hell. May just be time for a full circle. Haven't cast one in a while. There's a full moon this Saturday. Could use it to cast a protection spell for Monkey too. I may not like cheating, but there's no harm in stacking the deck. ;p<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
In the meantime, I guess I'll just - as always - take it <b><span style="color: #274e13;">One Day At A Time</span></b>. <br />
<i><br />
</i></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-30553272533204662872011-12-02T14:38:00.000-08:002011-12-02T14:38:23.085-08:00Day 83: Part two. Cause I can.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I had a good day at work today. Got caught running a little behind, but was right there with my boss, so it was okay. Did pretty well. Which, I'm ecstatic about since we've been so slow lately.<br />
<br />
But enough about that! It's time for the awesome!!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSzSjD3d4Bg/TtlReMbyW2I/AAAAAAAAAFw/MPkPXz22g0c/s1600/corset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSzSjD3d4Bg/TtlReMbyW2I/AAAAAAAAAFw/MPkPXz22g0c/s320/corset.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So, I got a corset from my Santa, and it was a-MAY-zing!!! I absolutely love it. I looked so smokin' hot. Just saying.<br />
<br />
<br />
Also, I saw this clip from the Ellen Degeneres show that made me just die laughing. I could hardly breathe, watching this. <a href="http://ellen.warnerbros.com/2011/11/ellens_thoughts_on_the_virgin_diaries_1130.php#.TtlSDnno75s.blogger">Ellen's Thoughts on 'The Virgin Diaries' - The Ellen DeGeneres Show</a><br />
<br />
Really. Highlight of my day. Sadly. <br />
<br />
.... Okay. I'm bored now. Monkey needs to hurry up and get off work; I'm craving hang-out time with the guys. ^.^</div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-23295182487619095812011-12-02T08:22:00.000-08:002011-12-02T08:22:06.574-08:00Day 83: Two weeks later.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, it's been two weeks, to the day, since I've posted. Thanksgiving has come and gone, and it was lovely, of course. Got to spend a lot of time with Boogie. Had court for the Temporary Relief Order. I now get him either 2 or 4 days a week; because R's attorney (go figure) completely ignored both of us, actually, when we said we didn't like his idea of what would be a suitable visitation arrangement. Where we <i>should</i> be having equal time, R automatically gets more. Needless to say, I'm not thrilled. I'm hoping R will eventually work with me on setting up a better plan, because, as it is, this one sucks. I have Boogie on Tues, Thurs, and alternate weekends. The back and forth is <i>not</i> healthy for him, but - surprise, surprise - R doesn't care. He's just going to go by whatever works best for him.<br />
<br />
The mother of the asshole should have swallowed, that's all I'm saying.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I managed to get my answer - and the counter-claim - to his attorney; which, for those wondering, means that the divorce <i>won't</i> be defaulting against me - as I'm sure R was hoping/planning that it would - and I <i>won't</i> be losing Eric. I just have to get it filed now. I'll have to find a day here soon when I can. Oy.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned how much I <i>hate</i> not having a car?<br />
<br />
Let's see... what else.... Oh. Christmas shopping is done now. I only bought stuff for my soldiers this year; well, and Eric, of course. Everyone else, I love you, but there's a reason I'm not asking for presents from anyone.<br />
<br />
I'm a little worried about a friend of mine who - quite honestly - is going <i>way</i> overboard with the Christmas presents for a girl he's only been dating for about three months. Granted, he's only doing it because she is, but still. Between the both of them, they'll probably rack up about $2k! I mean, really? I know he's head over heels for this girl, but ... ugh. I've already told him my opinion about her being a Class A Cling-On, but he's determined. So, ah well. Best of luck to them.<br />
<br />
In other news, Monkey has his first MMA fight coming up. That's going to be awesome to watch. I can't wait. He's really excited about it; and so am I, but I'm also really nervous. I <i>despise</i> violence. So I'm a little worried about how I'll react if he starts bleeding. Sad, I know, but true.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I have to finish getting ready for that thing called a job now. Adios my lovelies.<br />
<br />
Remember. One day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-34697908864829273222011-11-18T10:18:00.000-08:002011-11-18T10:18:45.279-08:00Day 69(giggle): Catch up/ Theme Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This past week has been just this side of too interesting. Had court Wednesday morning for the Temporary Custody hearing. Went well, considering. I get to see Boogie more often, and R seems to finally have come to his senses. "Seems" being the key word there. He's having his lawyer draw up new, amended paperwork. Without the lies about adultery, etc. Like I told him last night, though. That paperwork better be in my hand by Tuesday, or I'll be going to the courts Wednesday morning to file my counterclaim and all the Discovery requests that would prove him guilty of perjury. I'm not giving him another chance to screw me over.<br />
<br />
On top of that, I've been sick as a dog since yesterday afternoon. Was running a fever of - at its highest - 103.6 that friggin sucked. Luckily, it broke after a couple hours, though. So I'm still a little queasy, but it's tolerable. Hoping I'll be better in time for work this afternoon. I had to call in to Disney last night, and Leela's this morning. I'm considering just popping a Day-quil and crossing my fingers.<br />
<br />
On the plus side, Monkey and I were joking the other day, and have come up with a name for my bookstore that I'm <i>going</i> to open one day. "Vixie's Parchments and Pastries" Bookstore / International Pastry shop. It's going to be awesome. My two favorite things in the world - combined! We're going to have brown, recycled boxes, and emerald ribbons to wrap around them for the people carrying out the pastries; and emerald recyclable bags with brown needle work with the store name on it to carry out the books. And we'll mix it up for the holidays so it's all coordinating colors (i.e. Christmas = red/green; Halloween = black/orange; etc). Needless to say, I'm a little excited.<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
As for theme day!!! Here's to Number 20 on my Shameless List. Talk about Sex. It's just a poem I wrote one day at work while I was bored; but I still love it. Hope you do too.<br />
<br />
Oblivious<br />
<br />
My body burns for yours, <br />
My breath comes faster - shallower. <br />
My breasts grow heavy, <br />
My skin feels too tight. <br />
<br />
I can feel myself moistening for you. <br />
My thoughts are fragmented; <br />
But they have one thing in common: <br />
I want to throw you down, right here, and fuck you. <br />
<br />
It's all I can do not to touch myself. <br />
I wouldn't even care if anyone saw. <br />
I want you here. now. <br />
Take me. Fuck me. Make me beg. <br />
<br />
I smile as I think of what you'd do. <br />
The ways I'd ravage your body. <br />
But then, I quietly sign the delivery sheet you've brought in, <br />
And wave goodbye as you leave. Completely Oblivious.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Have a great weekend, my Darlings; and remember to take it One Day at a Time. <br />
<br />
</div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-51007702126245535652011-11-12T20:36:00.000-08:002011-11-12T20:36:17.539-08:00Day 63: Emotional Toll<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Okay. Time for Shameless act #21. Express a strong feeling. I thought this would be a relatively funny one to do, but with all the thinking I've been doing lately, it's going to be a little serious.<br />
<br />
I'm starting to think I should take Ms. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/14570498251611083259">Diandra</a>'s advice and perform an emotional separation ritual. No matter how much I try to distance myself from R, I always see or hear something that reminds me of <i>us</i>; or I'll think of him being with another woman (usually either the Cat or, I suppose she calls herself the "Raven") and I just get this stab of jealousy that, believe me, I <i>wish</i> I didn't feel. Just the thought, though, of another woman, specifically either of <i>them</i> touching Boogie... and the only thing I can think of is removing their hands; as well as a slew of other vicious bodily harm. Bad Karma, I know; but I can't help it. <br />
<br />
Which brings me to #14. Hold yourself accountable — not guilty — for something crappy you did to someone else.<br />
<br />
I have no excuse other then my youth and ignorance for some of the things I said and did to the Cat. I can't ask forgiveness, because it's my shame to carry. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing, but as I go through all of this, I realize how <i>horribly</i> wrong I was. For all of it. Not that I expect anything to come out of my saying this; but at least I have.<br />
<br />
---------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Unrelated note. Poor Boogie's got such a bad cough; but it's the same kind he had around this time last year. Had to go and get him some medicine this morning, since the stuff R brought over, is only good for kids <i>over</i> four. It literally says on the box, "Under 4 - Do not use". So I bought him some stuff that will work for his age. It seems to be, so far.<br />
<br />
Ticked me off, though, that R dropped him off with no socks on. Again. It's cold. He has a cough. And you forget to put socks on his feet. Really? At least he remembered to put a jacket on Boo this time. He hasn't the past two weeks. Ugh.<br />
<br />
But I don't want this to turn into one of those "He's a crap parent" things; because, in all honesty, he's not. R <i>is</i> a good father, when he isn't being an utter dousche. Sadly, though, that's been less and less often lately.<br />
<br />
Oh well. Not a lot I can do about that, sadly. Just going to have to - as always - breathe and take things One Day At a Time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-315675225299584712011-11-11T21:27:00.000-08:002011-11-11T21:27:21.190-08:00Day 62: Nothing to offer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I actually had a good day at work today. Just shipment day, which I love. I actually prefer being in the back doing inventory versus being out front with the customers. Only because I feel like such a creeper. I work in the Disney Store, which - obviously - is geared toward children, so I always feel like a complete pedo when I'm trying to be "magical".<br />
<br />
This morning started off pretty interesting too, considering I went to get in the shower, and found a huge spider bite on my boob. I'd been wondering why I was sore, but I didn't think of anything of it until I looked down, and "Holy Jesus!" There's a massive purple lump on the side. So I lanced it, got it cleaned up, and now it's only tender to the touch and a funky pink color.<br />
<br />
All of this, though, was kind of shadowed by my thinking process today; because, of course, I can't go one day without just mentally beating myself.<br />
<br />
Two men delivered the shipment we got into work today. An older guy named Joe who seemed pretty nice, and a younger, so far unknown guy who was pretty cute. I liked his glasses, and he had a nice ass. Didn't really talk to him, though. I'm still awkward when it comes to talking to guys once they have my attention. One of the managers kind of picked on me about it. Oh well.<br />
<br />
Back to what I was saying, though. This, and my conversation with a couple other friends got me thinking. I really don't have anything to offer anyone. Relationship-wise. Not that I even really need to be thinking about another one right now, obviously; but even after. What then? Bear with me a moment while I explain my thinking here.<br />
<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;"><li>I'm a soon to be 20 year old divorcee. </li>
<li>I have a two year old son. </li>
<li>I have no "real" skills; aside from my "Devious" charm, my moderate understanding of German, and the sheer determination that comes from being a redhead.</li>
<li>I live with my friggin parents because, at the moment, I'm too broke to afford my own place. </li>
<li>I no longer have any form of transportation. Though I'm looking around for one. </li>
<li>I'm ridiculously insecure with how I look, though I put up a good front around most people. </li>
<li>I'm not Christian. I'm Pagan. I only mention this because I do, after all, live in the Bible belt, and that's kind of a deal breaker for a lot of people here. </li>
<li>I'm Bisexual. As in, I'll be checking out the girls too. Again, only mentioning because of the Bible Belt thing. </li>
<li>I have a lot of debt, at the moment. From Hospital bills, mostly; but it's still a pain in the ass. </li>
<li>I have enough emotional baggage to fill a yard full of train cars. </li>
</ol>So, in short, I'm just a hot frigging mess. I honestly <i>don't</i> have anything to offer anyone right now; and although it needs to be the furthest thing from my mind - what I can give to someone else - it still bothers me, because, it's like... it's not just that I don't have anything to offer anyone else, it's that I don't even have anything to offer to <i>myself</i>.<br />
<br />
Granted, I'm working on changing all that; but it's still.... It just seems like I'm always knocked back to square one. I guess, though, at the end of the day; all that matters is that I just keep going.<br />
<br />
One day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-9727437764702063642011-11-10T21:01:00.000-08:002011-11-10T21:42:12.969-08:00Day 61: I suck at this<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;">So, of course, the day after I promise to be on here to post at least my shameless acts, everything goes crazy. Granted, I needed the break anyway, since I was starting to feel like the chick in the car commercial ("That's not a real puppy"), but still.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, I've had a couple epiphanies here in the past few days regarding this whole divorce thing. I know ya'll are all probably sick to death of hearing about it, but this is pretty much the only way I can get it out anymore.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">1. Despite everything he's saying, I don't think R's doing this for Boogie anymore. He can say he is until he's blue in the face, but if that were true, he wouldn't have lied the way he did on the paperwork, nor would he have included what he did. He's made this personal. Why, I don't know. I still don't know what it is that I could possibly have done to him to make him hate me so much; but, sadly, there's still a part of me that wishes I knew just so I could "fix" things. I know there's no chance of that happening, but I still have to hold out whatever hope I can. It's just kind of part of my DNA at this point.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">2. I'm SOOOO not ready for this. I thought I would be, but I'm not. I don't have the money for an attorney, as R well knows. Part of me still doesn't even want this damn divorce. I don't even know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm just going in circles at this point, and I RREEEEEAAAAALLLLLLLYYY freaking hate it. I know what I <i>could</i> do, but I <i>don't</i> want this divorce to get any uglier than R's already made it, and I don't want to give him any reason to accuse me of any more bull than he already has.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I just keep hoping (as immature as this is going to sound) that he's going to wake up and realize that what he's doing is <i>wrong</i>.... Then again, I spent practically our entire relationship doing just that, so I don't suppose it's going to change now.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">In other news, I'm going to go a little out of order, and tell ya'll about my #6 Shameless Act. "Act “girly” or “manly” in a way you’d normally avoid."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I didn't do it on purpose, since it happened before Halloween, even, but it's probably the girliest moment I've ever had. Definitely not my shining moment of bravado.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sasquatch, Scrappy, Monkey, and Biscuit invited me to go to a Haunted House with them and a few other friends the Friday before Halloween. I hadn't been to one in a few years, so I was all for it. We got there, and realized that it was actually split into two separate sections. The main Horror section, which was pretty cool. Scary, definitely, but not too bad. Though I'll admit, I jumped sky high when the required chain saw guy came at me, and I almost knocked down one of the guys that came with us.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Then there was the <i>other</i> section.... "Dark Matter". 3D Paint - manageable. Blacklights - annoying, but tolerable. .... And clowns. ... Fucking. Clowns. Which I don't care for on a <i>normal</i> day. <i>But</i>. Me being me, I just <i>had</i> to try. Worst. Idea. EVER.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">My 3D glasses kept slipping off, before we even got inside, so I just left them off after the first 2 or 3 minutes. The entrance wasn't too bad, just a guy jumping out with some glowy glasses. Then there was the rotating tunnel that you have to walk through that typically throws you completely off balance. It wasn't too bad, but Monkey was holding onto me so tightly, and I was in the lead, that he kept pulling me into the rails.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then came the part that REALLY messed me up. As soon as the first clown came out, I screamed, but I figured I'd be okay. NOT. Let me just sideline and explain something real quick. My worst fears were definitely working against me on this one. I hate being in the dark in new places, I hate when things pop out at me, and I hate loud noises (even balloons make me flinch). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-avncUUiffeM/TrytUlVnZ1I/AAAAAAAAAFk/HuTGBxlGx_4/s1600/wtf.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-avncUUiffeM/TrytUlVnZ1I/AAAAAAAAAFk/HuTGBxlGx_4/s320/wtf.png" width="320" /></a>Yes, I know, some of you are thinking exactly this ~~~> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just bear with me, please. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So we get around the next corner, I'm clinging to Monkey like a fresh pair of panties, trying to hide my face in his jacket, and, the next clown came out to blow a freaking air horn just behind my head. The last one I remember seeing was the one sitting on top of the wall, that came down and hit it. I was the only one that noticed him, so everyone was pushing me forward and couldn't understand why I wouldn't move until he did. I tried running past, but he swung as soon as I passed, and I ran into a wall, which had another clown next to it, so I fell back from there, and into another.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Long story short, I ended up having a full-scale panic attack before I could get out of there. Monkey and Biscuit practically had to carry me out. The last things I remember in that place was this woman who popped up out of nowhere while I'm <i>already</i> freaking out, and blowing another air horn in my face. That's where I lost it the hardest. I hit the ground, screaming my lungs out, and I remember just crying and repeating, "Make it stop!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">When the guys finally managed to get me outside, I could hardly breathe, and they had to call an EMT over to look at me to make sure I'd be okay. I couldn't stop shaking for about 10 minutes, and I felt like utter dog shit for freaking out that bad. I <i>never</i> get that afraid of anything, but that place was just a sensory overload of the worst kind. Everyone was trying to get me to calm down after, but I wouldn't have it. I felt like such an idiot for going into something like that, and I'm pretty sure it'll be a few <i>more</i> years before I set foot in another Haunted House again.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, time to get to #4. Waste time. I've been jonesing for some sailor moon lately so I'm going to catch up a little bit before I go to bed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, as always, take a deep breath. Focus; and just take it one day at a time. </div></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-10781395680506732482011-11-04T22:12:00.000-07:002011-11-04T22:12:51.230-07:00Day 55: Shameless #1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Okay, let me just start by pointing out something I thought of and wrote down in my <i>other</i> journal today. My life, at this point, is a pretty open book. I don't hide anything, because I don't <i>have</i> to. As in, I don't have anything <i>to</i> hide. If you can't find it on here or any of the other sites I partake in, than chances are you could just ask me; and if you still haven't found the answer you're looking for there, it's because it doesn't exist. This applies to practically everything. That's not to say that there aren't things I keep to myself, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm hiding them either, because, chances are, at least <i>one</i> other person knows.<br />
<br />
That being said, I'm going to get on to the interesting part in this. My shameless act for the day: <b>Declare your love for an uncool TV show. </b>Now, I don't necessarily find this fair, simply because it is entirely possible that my definition for cool and yours are probably very different. As in this case. I know that <i>now</i>, a lot of people would find it uncool, but back in the day, this show was the shit. At least to me and my best friend at the time. We'd rush home every day from elementary school just to watch it. (Yes, it's that old.) I remember it was one of the first animes to reach the US, and definitely one of the first "girly" series that <i>I</i> remember (any idea yet?). I wasn't a huge fan of the main heroine, since even at the time, she was a little ditzy for me, but I was pretty devoted to a couple of her teammates (I'm sure you've got an idea by now).<br />
<br />
Yep, my "uncool" TV show, even though I STILL find it awesome, is none other than {{ cue cheesy drumroll }}<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QHuoys9Qo4c/TrTB9LhXL8I/AAAAAAAAAFc/lmYHF6kO5O8/s1600/polls_sailor_moon_1303_914879_poll_xlarge.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QHuoys9Qo4c/TrTB9LhXL8I/AAAAAAAAAFc/lmYHF6kO5O8/s400/polls_sailor_moon_1303_914879_poll_xlarge.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>That's right, folks. Sailor Moon. I'm still going through and watching all the episodes again. I'm already on episode 56, but I've been working on it for a while. Speaking of, Monkey just got here and I'm going to try and taint him with it. See if I can't convert him. ;p<br />
<br />
One episode, one shameless act, one convert, one day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-83471817190570278252011-11-03T12:32:00.000-07:002011-11-03T12:34:54.522-07:00Day 54: Hell Hath No Fury<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So I knew R was a dirty, filthy, back-stabbing, lying scumbag, but he's gone to a new low. Got the paperwork from his lawyer yesterday, and it's nothing but a pack of lies. He says we were together until almost September of this year. Which, as everyone knows, is completely ridiculous. His own family could testify to that. He also cites "adultery" as one of the reasons for the divorce. I'm not even going to waste my breath on that one. I've said it before. <br />
<br />
I don't know what it is that he's thinking, but as I've told him a hundred times over: <u><i><b>I don't want anything from him. Not his money (in either child support or alimony), not the stupid car, NO-THING. </b></i></u>The <b>only </b>thing I want out of this divorce is <b>joint</b> custody of Boogie. I don't know what part of that is posing such a complication for his understanding; but it's <i>really</i> starting to piss me off. If his lawyer (and I know it's weird to say this) hadn't seemed like such a .... sensible man, yesterday, I'd be half tempted to send back the papers with a great, big, <b><span style="color: red;">FUCK YOU</span></b><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"> written across the front, and corrections made throughout them. </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">On a side note, I'm going to take a leaf out of <a href="http://www.katoninetales.com/">Kat o' Nine Tales</a> and do this <a href="http://www.katoninetales.com/p/30-posts-where-i-do-shameless-shit.html">30 Posts</a> thing. Figure it will give me a definite reason to be on more often. I've been a little negligent. So here's the list in it's entirety, and I guess we'll just go through every day and see what happens. I'll admit now, it's a little funnier to read her commentary, but considering the subject in <i>this</i> case (me! ... Oh dear god), I'm sure it'll still be rather ridonkulous. Yes, you read that right. My word. Get used to it. </span></span><br />
<br />
<ol><li>Declare your love for an uncool TV show. </li>
<li> Look a fool. <span style="color: #38761d;">~I should get a pay check for this. </span></li>
<li>Eat. Whatever you feel like eating. <span style="color: #38761d;">~ I usually do anyway. </span></li>
<li> Waste time. <span style="color: #38761d;">~When </span><i style="color: #38761d;">don't</i><span style="color: #38761d;"> I? </span></li>
<li>Declare your love for an uncool movie. </li>
<li> Act “girly” or “manly” in a way you’d normally avoid. <span style="color: #38761d;">~I'm with Kat on this one. I'm a "girly tomboy" so there isn't much I won't do. </span></li>
<li>Share your efforts at something you don't think you do well. </li>
<li> Sweat.</li>
<li>Expose something dirty or nasty you'd normally keep hidden. <span style="color: #38761d;">~Damn, and here I've already talked about my marriage. </span></li>
<li>Declare your love for an uncool band. </li>
<li> Dress to show some skin. <span style="color: #38761d;">~Now <i>this</i> I'm a natural at. </span></li>
<li> Share about a health struggle.</li>
<li> Speak up about something crap that was done to you. <span style="color: #38761d;">~See previous marriage comment. </span></li>
<li> Hold yourself accountable — not guilty — for something crappy you did to someone else.</li>
<li> Dress, walk, and act like you know you’re all that. <span style="color: #38761d;">~Time to break out the heels. And garter belt... hehehe</span></li>
<li>Spend money on a non-essential or share a financial struggle. <span style="color: #38761d;"> ~I'm a waitress for a living. </span><i style="color: #38761d;">Life</i><span style="color: #38761d;"> is a financial struggle. </span></li>
<li> Discuss the reality of your work situation.</li>
<li> Brag. </li>
<li> Share details about a bodily function or fluid.</li>
<li> Talk about sex. <span style="color: #38761d;">~That would entail that I'm actually getting any. I sense a smut coming. </span></li>
<li>Express a strong feeling <span style="color: #38761d;">~Again, gotta agree with Kat. I'm Irish; and German; and was raised in a Latino/ Jewish community. It's hard to find me </span><i style="color: #38761d;">NOT</i><span style="color: #38761d;"> having a strong feeling. </span></li>
<li> Set a boundary.</li>
<li> Air one of your secrets.</li>
<li> Share a struggle you have yet to “just get over.”</li>
<li> Ask for help. <span style="color: #38761d;">~This one might grain a little. I tend to avoid these at all costs. </span></li>
<li> Make a mistake. <span style="color: #38761d;">~ I've mentioned my marriage, right? </span></li>
<li> Express a dissenting opinion.</li>
<li> Discuss a failure.</li>
<li> Look a fool.</li>
<li> Name 3 more ways you can live shamelessly and commit to doing them.</li>
</ol>So now we just sit back and wait, I suppose; and I'll start on these tomorrow. Promise. Just another part of taking things One Day at a Time.<br />
<br />
<br />
Song for the day: <a href="http://youtu.be/PtgJPHLru9Y">Jasmine Tabatabai - Let Yourself Go Wild</a></div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-114553157160637922011-10-30T20:50:00.000-07:002011-10-30T20:50:14.038-07:00Day 50: writing at work<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I got bored at work today and started writing; this is <i>part </i>of the result. It's just a letter to R, if he's even still reading this any more. If he is, it'd would most likely on be for ammunition in our divorce. So maybe this will be plenty enough for him.<br />
<br />
R,<br />
<br />
I stood by when you cheated on me, even though, of course, it was "only four times". I stayed with you when you told me that not only had you cheated, oh no, you'd also been gracious enough to not wear a condom, so you were no expecting your first son. I stayed with you despite <i>everyone</i> - our friends, our families, our teachers - telling me that I should leave you. <br />
<br />
I continued to love you throughout the custody issues and before them. I loved you even when I was being called every name in the book for doing so. I kept my faith in you when I had absolutely <i>no</i> reason to.<br />
<br />
I believed you every time you lied to me; and even believed you when you apologized for doing so. I've lost count of the times you swore you would never do "x" again. Though, by now, I've forgotten what all those "x"s were. It seemed as if it was something else - not new - every week.<br />
<br />
I supported you, loved you, and defended you in the <i>months</i> when I was pregnant and the only one of us working.<br />
<br />
I encouraged you every step of the way and only ever asked for you to just love me and care for me as any husband should for his wife.<br />
<br />
I am truly sorry for ever resenting you for all the times <i>I</i> was punished for something <i>you</i> did, such as your Playstation. How could I hold it against you that you wouldn't even come near me while I was giving birth to our son until <i>after</i> he was born? How can I blame you for leaving me to plan almost our <i>entire</i> wedding while I was still pregnant, so soon after the loss of our friend? I'm sorry I ever expected you to help me with anything. I'm sorry I asked you to be a man for your family.<br />
<br />
I apologize for getting upset when your family talked trash about me, or disrespected us. I'm sorry I ever expected you to stand up for me after the Cat and her mother <i>assaulted</i> me; how could I <i>not</i> expect you to be so kind as to hug them right after that incident?<br />
<br />
How could I ever have been so naive as to think that you should speak to me honestly about how much money you were making at work. After all, that's for only <i>you</i> to know, right?<br />
<br />
Why on earth should I have hoped that you ever support me in something as inconsequential as my life long dream to join the military; especially after I was selfish enough to give up going to school so I could be with you and our family?<br />
<br />
I'm sorry if I ever caused you any distress by being a true and loyal wife, or by ever daring to ask who it was that you were texting so late at night; even after I'd caught you lying about it. That's only natural, right? I'm also sorry that I was there to comfort you when you didn't want to go to your father's house because you were afraid he'd beat you; and at the hospital with you to help calm you and drive you home when you crushed your finger at work, those few short weeks ago.<br />
<br />
Really, I'm sorry for thinking that after nearly four years of nothing but unlimited love, support, and patience that you would ever try to change. That you would ever see just what road you are headed down. How could I ever have thought that you would support me? How could I ever have believed that you would ever become anything than the vile, loathsome, disgusting, despicable, putrid example of spite and hate that you were raised around; and will subsequently raise our son around. Congratulations, I imagine your father must be simply ecstatic to see you've followed so closely in his footsteps. The only difference being that <i>your</i> blow didn't actually land. I suppose I should be grateful, at least, for that.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry I was ever so foolish as to think that you could be my happy ending. How unforgivable rude and ungrateful of me.<br />
<br />
Ever, as always, your dutiful and devoted wife,<br />
A. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-85455202420517081802011-10-30T08:10:00.000-07:002011-10-30T08:19:33.547-07:00Day 50: Perhaps a little Depressing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">How do you excuse yourself for falling in love with someone? Especially when that person turns around and stabs you in the back, betrays you, and drives you absolutely mad? How do you move on from the hate? How do you clear yourself of that pain, anger, and poison that will fill your body and soul if you give it half a chance?<br />
<br />
I am of the full belief that we should never truly hate anyone, but with everything my ex has done and continues to do, I find it gradually more difficult to stave off the emotion. <br />
<br />
I mentioned about my son being home yesterday, and this morning, I requested that I be allowed to see my son at least once more this week; unfortunately, though, he'll have to "discuss it" with his lawyer. In other words, I probably won't be able to see Boogie. So now I feel as if my heart has been ripped from my very breast and my body torn asunder, for I cannot even fathom when next I'll see <i>my own son</i>. <br />
<br />
No, I don't think I'll ever fall in love again. Honestly, I don't want to. I've been weakened - yet not defeated - by one who swore to love, protect, and strengthen me enough as it is. I will<i> never</i> allow myself that particular vulnerability again; and truly, I hope one day that he is able to find such a person as to bestow the same kindnesses upon him that he has been so gracious as to place upon me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ijnCVQuw6mM/Tq1q2c_L4II/AAAAAAAAAFU/qkcci8HQTTM/s1600/heartbreak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ijnCVQuw6mM/Tq1q2c_L4II/AAAAAAAAAFU/qkcci8HQTTM/s320/heartbreak.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>For now, I suppose, I'll just have to keep it in my head to breathe, relax, and take things one day at a time. As ever. <br />
</div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758027291655818173.post-2158361877878651422011-10-28T10:17:00.000-07:002011-10-28T10:17:58.116-07:00Day 48: Restless<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, last night, I just could <i>not</i> sleep, so I started watching <i>The Tudors</i>. It's an amazing show, honestly, and serves a wonderful purpose of reminding me just how strong women are truly capable of being. Anyway, it got me to thinking, and, of course, I had to write it down, just to get it out of my head; so this is what came of it, and you'll have to forgive the tone of the thing:<br />
<br />
Were I ever to be accused and subsequently found guilty of <i>anything</i>, it will be in that I love my <i>children</i> too greatly; for as surely as Boogie is the child of my body, so too is Bear the child of my heart. I love them both as equally as the other, and will provide my love and support to that measure. <br />
<br />
As quickly as any woman to call herself a mother, I would give my all if it meant the betterment of my children's lives. My life is theirs, as it should be. So I <i>foolishly</i> allowed myself to become convinced by the man I loved that I was no longer needed; that I was useless, worthless; that my children would be better off were I no longer to be a hindrance in their lives. <br />
<br />
I did <i>not</i> "abandon" my son. I left him in the capable hands of those that I knew would love him - or so I believed <i>at the time</i> - better than I could. I know now how mistaken I was, and I can claim no suitable excuse for my actions save that of a mother's distress and heartbreak over the sudden loss and dissolution of something so precious as her family. Something I gave my entire being to try and preserve until I feared the loss of myself as a person.<br />
<br />
Despite what R and a handful of others may believe, I was <i>never</i> unfaithful to him. I sought the company of others in the weeks leading up to our separation, but <i>never</i> int he physical sense. I loved R with everything that I was; and to this day, I love him the way that any woman must love the father of her child; but I have grown to love someone else even more: <i>myself</i>. So, although I wish with all my heart that things could have turned out differently, for the sake of our children, I also realize that until he seeks out the help he truly needs to settle the pain and anger inside of him that life had caused, there can be no hope for the love to ever return; nor, I think, should it.<br />
<br />
The wrongs we have done to each other, ourselves, and most critically: the boys, are simply too insurmountable. Though I'd like to believe the contrary, I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive him; and I can say with almost one hundred percent certainty that he will never forgive me. He's too much like his father in that way. I truly pray that we will one day find a way to make peace with the demons with which we have plagued each other, and at the very least, figure out a way to be able to communicate in a civil manner. Despite everything he's come to believe to the contrary, I am <i>not</i> interested in being "enemies". Nor am I naive enough to believe that we will ever again be so much as friends. I simply do <i>not</i> want my boys to grow up in the way that he did. I pity Bear, for he already will; unless R is fool enough - again - to return to the Cat. Though the though of that happening - again - sickens me.<br />
<br />
I suppose that is all I can say on the matter for now. At this point, it is just a matter of taking things, as ever, one day at a time. </div>Sionnachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08686720894431454091noreply@blogger.com0