London

I'm flying there in six days. I really want to watch "Love Actually."

There is so much I've not told you.

I am feeling grateful.

October

I'm pretty sure I mostly come here to complain ... Facebook no longer feels like a safe place to do it. I do my fair share of complaining via Twitter, but how much complaining can one do with such a limited number of characters? So here it is. And that's cool because not many folks are reading anyway, so it feels pretty safe.

I'm not sure when I began disliking the month of October. If it makes October feel any better, I'm only fond of about three months of the year anyway ... June, July and August. And since the return of my son's father, with his new possession rights including 30 days in the summer, those months are in jeopardy, as well.

I recall a time when I welcomed October because that meant the beginning of the final quarter of whatever shitty year it was. Yes, my outlook has been in the toilet for decades. Sure, my perspective of the toilet has changed, but it seems I've always been looking at a toilet.

October is my son's favorite month of the year. Fall is his favorite season. This is his birth month, and Halloween is his favorite holiday. So if anything at all gives me pleasure in October, it's his delight and excitement this time of year.

I find I'm envious of parents planning Halloween night with their children, as my son will be with his father the second Halloween in a row (it fell on Thursday last year and kick-starts the FIFTH weekend of this month, and I'm certain I've mentioned my hatred of months that actually have a fifth weekend because ... first, third and fifth weekends are no longer mine to spend with my child).

I should find some comfort in knowing my son is enjoying his father's return, his being able to spend time with him and to get to know the man who was absent for so many years ... but I am selfish. I admit it. I'm working on it.

It's been a little more than a year since the court ruling that turned my world upside down. I wish I could say I'm getting used to it, but I'm not sure I'll ever actually get used to it. Some days I try, and somedays I fight; and the fight can be exhausting.

I try to be in the moment as much as I can when I am with my son, but sometimes I can't help but count the hours I have remaining with him before he departs again. It's hard. So again, I'm working on it.

Final Spinal

Yoga instructor saw my "final spinal" at the end of class and asked if I can do full spine twist in advanced. Said "I dunno."

So studio owner told me how, in front of everyone, and I ended up trying and demo'ing. Again, in front of everyone. Also ended up with leg over head, attempting to stand, in front of everyone, as instructed by studio owner. The look in her eyes, as she instructed me on what to do ... And I corrected my "I can't" to "I haven't learned that yet," and her eyes told me she believed I can ... So I did. To a round of applause.

Blahs return

I am feeling overwhelmed ... likely due to approaching hearing date (boy's father is asking to have his monitoring accessories removed since he has almost completed his year).

I was depressed this weekend, second one in a row without the boy (I had one weekend with him during the entire month of August). I find myself angry at him because his absence hurts me, though I know it is not his fault.

I am overwhelmed at work and not feeling valued.

I hate the end of summer.

OITNB

I'm awfully late to the OITNB game, but out of sheer boredom this weekend, my mom and I began watching the first season. It was that or go see "The Fault in Our Stars," which mom thought was a bit too depressing for my fragile psyche these days.

I'm not sure what to make of the series just yet, though it's certainly entertaining and makes my life seem way less fucked up. Also, it provides some needed perspective into why I should refrain from being forced to wear orange.

A diff kind of high ...

From the JFC wall-walking soundtrack:

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SYM-RJwSGQ8

What an indescribable trip. Missing it already and having trouble adjusting!

T minus ... a little more than 24

Jedi Fight Club approaches ... And Michael is on rotation.

I just practiced for what will likely be the last time stateside until I return ... my fourth 5:30 a.m. class this week. I've been practicing daily, and even though I'm super anxious, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I'll have to accept where I am and just be ok with that. I'm there to learn, afterall.

I still can't believe I'm going.

Easiest way to update ...

A message I sent to my cousin today ... she lives across the pond.

I have been too frazzled to keep up with the details these days, so I'm sure you can piece things together from this communication, mostly.

Hiya, cousin. Thank you for the birthday wishes. I just wanted to drop you a line and let you know that for some reason, I feel good today. Shouldn't be so noteworthy, eh? Well, I think it's because I'm 11 days through Ryder's first summer possession with his father AND because after 10 nights with his dad and away from our home, he was with me overnight last night for my birthday. Didn't know how much I needed that time with him. So I dropped him at his father's this morning before work ... only seven more sleeps until he's home again. And we leave in nine days for Florida. Mom started her drive there today and will pick R and me up from the airport next week. We'll be there six sleeps! Also, I like the day-after the birthday better than the "approaching/impending doom," and I survived July 4 weekend - without Ryder and without Tim (he was in Kentucky for a week). Tim got back last night and surprised us at my house when mom, R and I got back from dinner and theater. And heck, maybe even virtual wishes on social media are having an effect. But whatever the reason, I'll take this over the dumps any day. Not even going to worry about if it will last at this point. Wrapping some things up at the office and off to yoga soon. That always helps, too. Anyway, wanted to send a note where I'm not b*tching for a change. Love ya and hope all is well!

Week in summary: Challenge complete

OK, so Father's Day came and went and so did my Sunday depression/blues. And for that I'm grateful. Though I should be/possibly am PMS'ing ... so there's that.

I totally finished my 60-Day Challenge a week early, and I've not even posted about it here. I'm not feeling eloquent at all though. And even though I finished the challenge Wednesday, I still practiced last night and am planning on being in the hot room again in less than two hours.

I am such a "go big or go home" person, so "all or nothing," so type-A. I always go overboard. With everything. And I'm aware of it.

Anyway, for obvious reasons, I found this article entertaining: 9 Signs You're Addicted to Bikram Yoga.

Read it, and naturally you'll understand why I might have verbally said, "Yes, Yes, YES" when I discovered there's a studio in Naples. I thought I was going to be SOL next month when I'm in Florida. Relief.

And also, you might understand that I'm having a mini-heart attack realizing I have to pick up my kid and get to practice because it starts in just 70 minutes (yes, I was dicking around and IM'ing and FB'ing and whatnot while also working on this little update here).

M'kay, bye.

Father's Day 2014

I woke up to find myself unexpectedly down and depressed this Father's Day. I really didn't expect it to have an affect on me, but live and learn.

I'm not depressed that I'm not seeing my father, or that I haven't since February. I'm sad because I have no desire to even phone him. I'm sad reflecting on how much he has let me down, and I'm sad because it hurts. It's no wonder I don't trust people at all.

This is also the third weekend in a row that my son has not been at home because his father has possession of him, and my body physically hurts because I miss him so much. I'm eager for him to return tomorrow, and I can't wait until next weekend when I get to enjoy some quality time with him ... before he heads to his father's for 18 straight days at the end of June and beginning of July. I wonder when this won't be so painful. Ever?

So anyway, I'm heading to the yoga studio to turn the pain up a notch today. Sometimes that's the only thing that gives me any relief.

First Bikram 60-day challenge in 2014

When I started this current 60-day Bikram challenge: I was excited, pumped, all "I got this! Whoo-hoo, bring on the challenge!"

Two weeks into the challenge: "OMG, when is this going to be over? Seriously, why did I do this? Life is busy, and this takes time, and it's really hard. I'm fatigued and sore." Also, "This is my first challenge while working full-time = bonus points."

Practice No. 30, aka half-way into the challenge: "Whoo-hoo! I'm half-way there! So glad I'm in the middle of this ride. But wait, I'm only half-way there? Where exactly is 'there?' Oh yeah, 'there' is when the challenge is over, but practice will continue since I am training for August retreat in Mexico."

And I've realized that the bigger challenge is maintaining a consistent practice, as part of an improved lifestyle, for a lifetime.

Namaste.

Insomnia-induced decisions

So this morning I had an idea. I couldn't sleep ... woke up at 2:30 a.m. unable to go back to sleep. I need a new mattress. And I did go to bed last night at an hour that could possibly insult the elderly. Regardless, I decided to take advantage of a kid-free morning and ...

... at 5 a.m. I turned on the faucet and started brushing my teeth. From the bedroom I hear boyfran mutter, "Time to get up already?" I am never up at 5 a.m. on a kid-free morning. My first conference call wasn't even until 8:30 a.m.

I started laughing, and I felt giddy and proclaimed, "I'm going to yoga. 5:30 yoga." He responded: "I'm not," which wasn't necessary to say since he's never been ever, and that made me laugh harder, and then he followed with "Fuck that. I'll still be sleeping when you get back at 7:30 a.m. But I guess you gotta go to at least one 5:30 a.m. class in order to realize you never want to do it again." He was kidding, and I was laughing at the insanity ... and the things one will go through to put a silly sticker on a 60-day challenge calendar. As my friend Tulasi says, "I just do it for the stickers."

Boyfran was supportive though and got up, slid into his jeans, and I'm all, "What are you doing? You're getting up?"

He replied, "I gotta move the truck so you can get out of the drive."

Headlights shining in the dark night, I drive on …

I love the new Eminem song, especially as a person who has possibly reached a limit for being angry with a parent. Song made me cry.

Read the Mashable article, watch the video and don't forget to grab a tissue.

Grateful this Mother's Day for ...

1) Getting the weekend with my son, which is something I previously took for granted and appreciate more these days.

2) Unexpected flowers from my men on Friday, to kick things off.

3) Someone scrambled my eggs Saturday.

4) Yoga Friday and Saturday.

5) Grilled salmon dinner at the park Saturday eve, celebrating my son's rec team's season victory.

6) An amazing day of shooting at the East Texas range today, followed by buying my kid some new summer clothing.

It was a great day, really. I hope everyone had a fantastic Mother's Day. I surely did.

The mouths of babes

This made me lol because, well, a really funny, 20-something guy pal said ... hard to explain ... We were talking about kiddos growing up. About my son. And I totally feel like Felicia oftentimes these days because my kiddo is just growing too fast. My pal said, he's totally like, "Bye, Felicia." But in a funny way.

I had to look it up. Because I am old. (Also, I love gay men.)

From Urban Dictionary:

When someone says that they're leaving and you could really give two shits less that they are. Their name then becomes "felicia," a random bitch that nobody is sad to see go. Their real name becomes irrelevant because nobody cares what it really is. Instead, they now are "felicia."

"hey guys i'm gonna go"
"bye felicia"
"who is felicia?"
"exactly bitch. buh bye."

Life to the gut ... still

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If so, why don't I feel invincible? Why do I feel like I lost a fight with life? I'm beat up, and it's taking longer than I anticipated to get comfortable again and gain confidence.

On a positive note (since I said I wasn't bitching here, and I'm honestly not, I'm just sharing a secret I'm carrying around), yoga is helping.

I managed to wean myself entirely off all medication, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't have done that if I weren't practicing yoga so dang much. I've not taken any meds since March, and I am happy about that. I am gaining control of my anxiety some. It still sucks though.

Tis all for now.

Purging

I'm gonna try to stop bitching so much, but it's not going to be easy. Especially since I think of this as my safe place to bitch. But the bitching is making me sick now, so I need to try something else. You know, I've been screaming details of the injustice of my situation to anyone who will listening for months, and now I'm dumbly wondering why everyone's staring at me. What could they possibly be looking at?

So yeah, I'm trying to remove myself, as a person, from that drama as much as I possibly can. I thought about abandoning this blog, maybe trying to start again. But I am leaving abandoned blogs all over the interwebs, and it kind of creeps me out. So I'll just try to stick this out, I guess. And I'll try to come up with some decent posts. Give me time; I'm healing (I think). And healing is still painful.

Yesterday was the first Easter I've ever spent without my son. Yes, it sucked. But instead of bitching, I went to the yoga studio. For the fourth consecutive day. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Check. Yes, that's six hours spent in the hot room during the holy weekend. I'm purging people. I need it.

I went to school and had lunch with my son today, and he's home tonight, and that's good. I'll see him at home, after yoga.

Not my circus ...

So my son came home from school yesterday and mentioned that his father and my father got into an argument in Ft. Worth last night. He wasn't sure what it was about since they stepped in the other room, but he gathered it was about his father not having a job still (he hasn't worked since the first week of the year). I felt bad for the boy and told him I was sorry about that. He said my father left afterward and that his own father said that Gpa wasn't being very nice to him. Really? Yeah.

Today my father tells me that he had two private conversations with my ex-husband and with his own wife Sunday, informing them that if my ex continues to live under his wife's mother's roof (are you following?), he is filing for divorce. He claims it's not a threat, but I won't believe it until he files, if he files. It's not even like this will resolve the issue though ... she isn't going to boot the squatter out.

I'm beginning to wonder if God is forcing me to start outlining a memoir here. I mean, why else does my life seem to continue to get more and more insane? Is this all content for me to compile and share with some other crazy soul out there? I have no idea. I feel pretty sorry for my son.

Oh, but also, my son's father told my dad that he's going to pursue his master's degree online so that he can enter a new career field. Really? He can't afford his half of out-of-pocket expenses for my son's needed braces, but he can afford to "go back to school." These people are delusional. And I keep reminding myself of the supposed Polish proverb: "Not my circus. Not my monkeys."

Fight Club ... Jedi style ... in four months

I texted:

"My son will be with his father Aug. 1-17 during summer. And they just released the dates of this yoga retreat. It's Aug. 2-10 in Puerto Morelos, outside of Cancun. :)

I registered. They provide accommodations; I just need to book the flight. I am excited.

I will have to train/prepare to get ready for daily double practice there. It's about seven hours of yoga a day. It's going to be hard fun. Also, no smoking allowed on the trip.

We're staying at Casa Om."

What a week this has been. I just found out Tuesday which days R's father is requesting him during summer. And Thursday I got the email about the Jedi Fight Club retreat. When one door closes? Finally something happening that feels right and makes sense. Something to look forward to and a goal to work toward all summer, while my boy is away so much.

Check out this video of the JFC Enthusiasts retreat that took place last August. Click for more information on Jedi Fight Club.

Yes, I am excited.

Letter of recommendation

OK, so I wrote and submitted a letter of recommendation for my Goddaughter, who has applied for the AACU 2014 Scholarship Program. Wishing her lots of luck! Amazed by her SAT score: 1450.

Yes, I'm very proud of her -- and of her mother for raising such an amazing young lady.

March 31, 2014

Dear AACU Scholarship Committee:

Please accept this as a formal letter of recommendation in support of [Goddaugher's] application for the AACU 2014 Scholarship program. I have known [Goddaughter] since she was born and was honored when her mother, a childhood and lifelong friend, asked me to be her Godmother. She is a deserving candidate whom you will be proud to have as an example of your ideal scholarship winner.

As I witnessed [Goddaughter] grow into the amazing young woman she has become, she continually impressed me with her motivation and ambition to achieve success in all areas of her life. The most important area for her now is focusing on her future at Texas Wesleyan University where she has been accepted to study pre-law and psychology.

Over the years I’ve witnessed [Goddaughter's] commitment to academic and athletic success, and her resume speaks volumes, reflecting her dedication. She is an active member of the National Honor Society, holding a 92.9 GPA, and is ranked 102 in her high school class. She has accomplished this academic excellence while also participating in extra-curricular activities, including serving as a member of the [HS] Chorus, a letter-winning member of the [HS] volleyball team, and a member of the Tejas Volleyball Club.

I am proud to provide this letter of recommendation on behalf of [Goddaughter]. Please let me know if you have any questions or if you would like to speak with me directly regarding [her] consideration for this award. I can be reached at xxx-xxx-xxxx or via email at [email addy].

Thank you for considering [Goddaughter] to represent the AACU 2014 Scholarship Program.

Kind regards,

[Moi]

Radio silent

Yes, I met with my attorney this week. No, I haven't posted about it.

The reason: She couldn't tell me anything I wanted to hear.

That is all.

Our Jedis

The fourth-graders scored their first goal on our third-grade recreational soccer team fast in the first half tonight.

My son scored the equalizing goal in the second, our only goal that match. We thought it was going to be a 1/1 draw, but our opponents got one more in goal in the last few remaining minutes, marking the end of a 43-game win streak for our boys.

But I've never been more proud of my son nor the team. They were over-confident at the start of the match, having beat their opponents a week ago 4/1, but they pulled it together and rallied til the end. It was a good lesson and an amazing match.

Engaging legal counsel

Meeting with her Monday, which can't arrive soon enough. More later ...

Very, very sick

So the good news is that I got to pick up R yesterday. And the messed up part was I had to drive to Fort Worth, to my dad's mother-in-law's (M's) to get him.

Driving there, with T in my passenger seat, the closer we got to the house, the more I wanted to puke.

This whole scene is sick and twisted, and incestuous. I can't get over it.

I went into M's house when she invited me to do so. She was pleasant but did not remember me. Because of her Alzheimer's. She said I looked like someone she once knew. It was sad.

She took me through the house to the area where my ex-husband resides. And as I passed the kitchen refrigerator, I noticed photos on the fridge ... of my son and his father, that I could tell my father's wife put on display, certainly to make things "home-y." Photos of Ryder as a baby with his father. No photos of me, as there have been in the past, of course. Are you feeling queasy yet?

We found the guys in their room, R sort of hiding from me. It was awkward.

M was clueless, said we didn't have to rush off, but I explained that we had an hour drive back to Dallas and had to get ready for school and work today, after our Spring Break.

I was just stewing though ... I got in a bad funk, depressed that this is my reality -- that I have to drive to M's house to fetch my son ... and I realized how friggin mad I am at my father. My therapist will say this is not his fault. But I have a hard time seeing how the hell it's not his fault. Besides I don't know who else to be angry at. Sure, I'm pissed that my ex husband is disgusting enough to accept a free place to stay from my father's wife. But I divorced him for a reason.

My family, I thought, was supposed to support me. The whole thing is very, very sick.

Bikram

So this weekend I attended two Bikram classes, three hours of hot yoga in less than 24.

So I'm ready for the nun-chucks. I'm ready to kick some ass.

Use nun-chucks. Nun-chucks are good.

 "I decided to never invest too much emotion in one thing."
- Domino

On the positive

Reasons today is a better day than yesterday already:

1) It's not Monday
2) I woke up with my boy under my roof
3) I took him to school
4) There was no fire drill this morning, no burning flames in my InBox

That's enough for me right now.

A little IM mostly sums things up ...

I'm still having difficulty adjusting to my son's father's return ... of course he's unemployed again. It's ridiculous. We can't seem to get along, mostly b/c I have zero respect for him and don't believe he's a good role model for our son. Blarghity, blargh-blargh.

I'm very "black and white." I'm either completely passionate about something or I despise it. And both of those categories suck energy. So I'm trying very hard to put things I can't control into a "gray" bucket. Gray matter. Can't control it, so don't waste energy on it. Otherwise I'll drive myself bananas.

This is not easy discipline for me.

This song's title inspired my previous post title

Such Great Heights

Enjoy.

Such Great Heights

I was reminded of the movie Garden State this evening, particularly the scene where Zach drives away from the gas pump while the nozzle is still in his tank. Yeah, I totally drove away from the pump with the nozzle in my tank. Fortunately it didn't break (like in the movie) nor did it harm anything, like my car.

I couldn't find the full scene, but you can get a visual at 26 seconds into this trailer.

OMG, where is my mind these days? Guess I was in a hurry, and my mind was consumed by trying to be safe on the roads. Ha.

And yes, I'm admitting this on the Internet. Hi, Internet.

What I learned in therapy today

You know what I learned in therapy today? That I'm a bitch. No for real. Probably not all the time, probably not at the right times, but oh yes, at the core, when the filters are off (wait, are they ever on?), I'm a bitch.

I'm ok with that. I've kind of been embracing my inner bitch lately. It's just been necessary. I'm tired of getting pushed around.

The frozen, pre-made PB&J

It's 30 degrees. I'm wondering if the uncrustables sandwiches I have in the insulated bag in my car will actually thaw by the time I pick up my son (promptly after work in order to get him to basketball practice on time across town).

Is it bad that these will serve as his in-transit dinner? Ten years ago, I could have never understood the frozen, pre-made PB&J. Single, working moms do what we gotta do.

**Next Tuesday? I might just heat up some Madras Lentils before I pick him up!

Passionate or "Spirited"

To say I'm a bit passionate about Ryder's sports would be a dramatic understatement. In fact, I'm *that* mom. And not everyone likes it, but it is who I am.

We had another basketball win today -- 18/6. Ryder isn't sure if he wants to repeat basketball; this is his first season playing, and he says he's not good. Which is ridiculous because he scored four points today. But he is hard on himself and only counts "points." The kid is so competitive, and I know where he gets it, and I understand him completely.

If he would also count the blocks he makes? Mostly because of his height (I think only one kid is taller than him on his team), and if he could see it from the bleachers and see what I see, he would know he IS good. But he just counts "points."

Anyway, it was a great game. This is the first time this group of boys have played basketball together, and they are undefeated. They're originally a rec soccer team and have been for about five years, but when they take on anything together (baseball, etc.), they just shine. It speaks volumes about these boys, their bond, the families who are extended family to us, and especially their coach. We are so blessed to have Coach J and the fathers who assist him (P and G). Every activity we participate in with these folks is such a feel-good experience.

And then we have soccer, which my son plays year-round -- in particular, I'm referring to academy soccer. We had an indoor game today, and while we were waiting for kick-off (is that the right term for the start of a futbal match?), I looked at our opponents, turned to my mother and said, "They might kill us." This is, again, before the match even began.

They were bigger and they were aggressive. Ryder played keeper the first half, and at half-time, it was nil/nil. I overheard one of R's mate's mother say about him, "He's the reason we're still even in this game." I was touched; it made my heart so happy. She was absolutely right because he stopped at least a half a dozen goals.

He played striker the second half, but he's with a mostly new group of boys, and they just weren't playing well as a team. A striker can't strike if mid-field doesn't deliver the ball. He tried so hard, and though the team wasn't collaborating well, several players were performing excellently. It's like they just couldn't "gel." I mean, strikers shouldn't be running the entire damn field to play defense, as well, but at one point in the game, that's exactly what he had to do.

Our coach was absent today, so a kind father filled in, but on the sidelines, I was *loud* (yes, me - no surprise). I was trying to coach from the sidelines (a no-no; I know). And I even made some grandmother of one of our mates angry. Sorry. This ain't golf, lady.

Our opponents scored two goals on us in the second half to win the match. With two minutes remaining in the game, one kid pushed Ryder, and he hit his bad knee (his arthritic knee) very hard on the wall. He cried, and that kid don't cry unless he's truly injured.

I couldn't stop myself from going to him when they pulled him off field. And I was so happy when he looked pleased to see me. Not only was his knee hurt, so were his feelings because the other team was so aggressive. And yes, like me, he was frustrated with his team not communicating.

I know they're nine and that this is supposed to be fun, but I left feeling so very angry, but also very proud of how well my boy did. And I know I'm biased, but -- we were missing three of our best players today, and we could have actually taken our opponents down, but that didn't happen.

It is what it is, I know. And though we lost, I think they'll get there. R is certainly learning the lesson about not always winning, and I know that's a good lesson, too.

What can I say? Sorry I'm loud. I have passion, and I believe my son can truly achieve anything. So forget the "sorry," blame it on the fact that I'm "spirited."

Maybe ...

... maybe I'm ready to face 2014.

I've sort of been in denial that it's a new year. I've not really wanted to look 2014 straight in the eye.

Maybe I'm ready to take a peek.

My previous best friend, who is no longer my best friend because he has a new best friend (he calls her a fiancé)? Well he still knows all about what I've been through; he witnessed much of it.

He says 2014? "It will be a kinder year."

And I can't tell you how much I want to believe him with all of my heart.

Lentils

There are several indicators that I'm getting old ... one being people are dying and the other being that I get excited about new products at Costco. One of these topics is easier to write about than the other.

Yesterday was sample day at Costco, maybe every Saturday is, I don't know because my trips are always random. Like, "Hey mom, we should do something or go somewhere because it's nice out." And she asks, "Do you want to walk to the park?" And I say, "No, let's go to Costco," and she's all like, "Ok, yes!"

I don't know about you but sometimes, if I sample a product, I feel totally obligated to purchase it. I feel bad for the lady baking the pizza bites, talking to the lady pouring shots of Kirkland brand organic orange juice. "Don't pour too many, we don't have much longer. It's almost 3:30." After she says that, I no longer feel guilty and I have pizza and orange juice, then purchase the opposite brand of pizza she's pushing (it was cheaper).

But I have to say that if it wasn't for sample day, I would have totally missed out on Tasty Bite Madras Lentils. And if I missed those Madras Lentils, this post would not exist. (Why isn't someone paying me to push these products?)

Anyway, you make these things in one minute in the microwave. It's faster than raman. It's genius really. And at Costco a box of six pouches is only $10. I have already consumed one of said pounches. I had less than two minutes to make lunch, clearly.

Anyway, I guess there's an upside to sample day, beyond basically having brunch at Costco, because ... oh the discovery of those lentils!

THIS post from The Bloggess

"If you’re sad or lonely or feeling like you’re one of the misfit toys, know that you are part of us.  And remember that those misfit toys always were always far more interesting than the normal ones."

Superficial distraction

I like shoes about as much as the average female. Not more, not less. Yet I can't stop obsessing over these flats, and I'm seriously considering ordering a pair in every single color. Or maybe I should start by ordering just one pair? I'm thinking nude. I wear a size seven, in case you want to donate a color to my recently cleaned closet.

I happened to notice that this is my 100th post on this silly page. And I thought shoes might be a nice distraction for myself, and for my friend who is a mega "shoe lover," who lost her beloved dog today.

Let's all subscribe to a bit of retail therapy, shall we?

Girl with the dirty hair

Longest I've gone between hair washes? Not that I'm proud but ... washed on a Monday and not again until the following Wednesday. Eight full days of dirty-hair.

Don't judge ... or do; I don't care. I'm just disappointed I don't have dreadlocks.

I *really* can't make this shit up, people

OK, so ... pretty much as expected, my son's father is once again *unemployed,* and apparently the cousins he's been living with? Well, after five months, they've tired of his residing with them (naturally). So he had to start looking for a place to live.

And guess what? My father's wife, the one I can't stand? The one I've not spoken with or seen since the beginning of November because of a blow-out about her siding with the damn enemy?  Well, she's having him move in with her elderly mother. No shit.

OK, the woman has Alzheimer's and needs constant care, but my son's father is not qualified to care for the elderly.

I can't and probably don't even need to tell you how fucked up this situation is. I've cut these people out of my life, and they just form a union and work together against me. And once again, someone else is helping my son's father "manage life". He can't take care of himself, he can't keep a roof over his head and food in his mouth or stay on top of his child support. So how in the hell is he going to really take care of this elderly woman?

You know what? He's not. My father's wife will still come over daily and do all of the work. It's just her excuse to provide this man with a place to live here locally so that, at 41 years old, he won't (yet) have to go back to Ohio to live with his own elderly parents.

This? Is all kinds of fucked up and wrong in so many ways.

How do I love thee (or know you're my boo)?

Um, he renewed our CostCo vows.

That's actually a pretty huge deal, especially considering what an ass I was over holiday. Also? He appreciates that I loved the film, The Wolf of Wall Street, which has been deemed *not* a date movie and is not sitting well with most suburban mothers. And it's probably not a date movie, especially if you're not completely honest with your mate. At the same time, I'm certainly glad I didn't see it with either of my 'rents.

Grateful, in January.

Setting my alarm for the first time in longer than I care to admit

In an attempt to avoid end-of-holiday anxiety, we hit the movie theater to see The Wolf of Wall Street at 7 p.m. It's a three-hour movie (I loved it), but I'm home now, and it's time to get some sleep so that I can be up before 7 a.m. tomorrow and get to the office. So I can get back to the "routine": Work (though I'm grateful for it), a.m. school drop-offs, after-school program pick-ups, sports practices, all of it ...

I'm usually very  ready to cross the finish line into a new year, but there are so many things I want/need/have to tackle, that I just don't want to deal with. I'm not ready, for the first time in a very long time. I'm not ready, but the new year is here. Resolutions? Don't get me started ...

It was a crazy holiday, filled with drama and illness ... but I admit I'm intimidated by the new year this year. I no longer have the mantra to "make it my bitch." I would really just like some harmony; I'd like to get along better in 2014.

Wishing you all a great new year, and wishing myself the strength to tackle it, and maybe even give it a hug.

Hurting others ...

It really sucks to know you hurt another person so bad. Especially a person who has shown undying loyalty under extremely rough circumstances.

I have to forgive myself for that, and not repeat it in the future.

And just when I think I have everything under control ...

... just when I think that? I surprise myself and everyone around me and go a little bat-shit crazy destructive.

I decided to end my "CostCo marriage" with the man in my life, as our card expired on NYE anyway (our "CostCo marriage" was a little joke of ours). Several things had been building up in my head, I was feeling insecure, I was scared of being left and abandoned, so what did I do? I took charge of things, of course. I felt like my man was pulling away from me, though it was his busiest work week, and he -- like me -- he has had the flu ... but I couldn't see his perspective and didn't ask for it. I was being SELFISH. I was scared. And so I tried to piss him off and run him off, and you know what? If one tries hard enough, one can run just about anyone off. I succeeded. Then I proceeded to call my mother and cry for hours on the telephone. That my was how I spent the last evening of the 2013 year.

This man and I originally had dinner plans with another couple on NYE, as mentioned in my prior post, but we couldn't predict we'd both end up very ill with the flu. And even though we couldn't and shouldn't and didn't go "out," no one wants to be around anyone else when tossing and turning all night, with a hacking cough. He didn't want to, and I get that now. I see that now. I didn't see it last night. I wanted him to come over. My son has been gone since Saturday, and I wanted my boo to come over. He was hesitant (b/c ill), and I got hurt and mad, and I lashed out and said, "Fuck it. Let's break up." Makes absolute sense right? Of course not.

He was shocked, hurt ("bruised," as he said), and came and got his belongings from my house, which I had placed in the driveway because I was? Being an ASSHOLE.

Also, having gotten sick of taking ibuprofen, mucinex, and my regular anti-Ds ... so sick of pills ... I decided to stop taking absolutely everything about three days prior. (In addition, I was PMS'ing when I got the flu and am on my "cycle" now. Sucks.) My man did the same -- stopped medication, so apparently I'm not unique in that I get sick of taking fucking pills. Only he doesn't take anti-Ds, so he can remain sane while medicinally free. Me on the other hand? Not so much. This is not my first failed attempt at cold-turkey stopping my anti-Ds.

Upon reflection now, I realize that if I truly desire to stop my anti-Ds that I should talk to my doctor about the proper way to wean off of them. Cold turkey clearly doesn't work for me anymore, and I leave a bunch of unknowing, innocent bystanders as victims in the way. It *also* sucks.

I regret treating the one person who stood by my side, during the rough ride of 2013, like a total asshole. He didn't deserve it. And I can't repair the damage I caused to a 15+ year friendship. However he did take my call this evening, and we talked for an hour. I wasn't attempting to get "back together." I just wanted him to know that I am sorry about my inappropriate behavior and the way I treated him. He accepted my apology, and maybe, just maybe, one day he will forgive me. Or maybe he won't, and perhaps I will learn a very important lesson about how to treat people who really, truly love me. A hard lesson  -- for me -- to learn.

I need to STOP pushing away people who CARE.

I can only hope that 2014 is a better year for myself and my loved ones. But hoping won't be enough. It's time for me to make some significant personal changes, which I will likely have to conquer on my own.

And finally, I don't know what I'd do without my mother. I can't even imagine it ... the unconditional love she provides to me is one of the few anchors I have. She's one of the only people I trust, perhaps the one only entirely. I just hope she knows how much I appreciate her. And I hope my own child feels the same about me one day, when he is grown.

Life is hard. I hope it gets better in the new year.