Sunday, May 31, 2009

It's like we're grownups or something

Me and my old man went on a date last night for the first time since... since, um... I don't know when. It may have been before Austin was born. He will be 3 in 3 weeks.

We went to my favorite store in the world and I was so good, I only spent $12! Then we went to a Greek place for dinner. I had a very yummy salad with chicken, olives, tomatoes, feta and some pita on the side. After that we went and bought Austin's birthday present. It's a tricycle. Shhh... don't tell him :).

It was so good for us to get out. We don't get much time away from the kids and his mom, and when we were pulling out the driveway, I said to him that I thought it was "so exciting!" and he laughed.

Today's a lovely day. We've got the kiddie pool out on the lawn. I've been to the gym, and there's Margarita fixin's waiting for me.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Chaparral Revisited

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating...

An Oldie but a Goodie

Oy, the memories this brings back :)

Thursday, May 28, 2009

St. Elsewhere

I have to DO something. I absolutely must do SOMETHING to move on. I’ve done what I was supposed to do, but it’s still there. How do I make it not be there anymore? The pain. I write about her. I dream about her. I talk about her. I do my best to get the feelings OUT, OUT, OUT. But still, a song will reduce me to tears. I cry at work. What should I do?

I want to write her a letter. No, actually, I want to write a letter to who she used to be. Or who I thought she was? Should I write a letter and then put it in a drawer or a box? I can’t send her what I want to say because I don’t know where she is. I know where her physical being is, but her mind is lost. Her ‘self’ is lost. Only she doesn’t think so.

I want to visit her. But I cannot listen to the words she will say. I cannot look her in the eye.

I bristle when people say they are sorry for what I am going through. I object. I am not going through ANYTHING compared to what her family is going through. They are the ones who must face each day without their baby. Why am I hurting so much? I want to slap myself and say ‘get over it; it is SO not about YOU.’ I spend days at a time acting like it’s not there, thinking maybe I’ll forget or it will heal if I don’t scratch it. But then it just comes back. Am I doing that to myself somehow? Am I making myself hurt more than I should?

I want to feel better now. Isn’t it time yet?


"St. Elsewhere" by Gnarls Barkley

I packed a few of my belongings
Left the life that I was living
Just some memories of it
Mostly the ones I can't forget

Whenever you need me I'll be here
Until then my dear
I'm going, I'm going, I'm going there
Don't ask me to make time
To travel back and forth
Let nature take its course
Maybe I'm open from all this ocean air
And if it weren't for you I'd be without a care
Setting sail to St. Elsewhere

Anywhere you sit you can see the sun
Unfortunately on this island I'm the only one
Same rules apply on a rainy day
And it's not such a pretty place to be
It just rains, and rains, and rains on me
Send a simple sign, I can understand
Then a flower grew out that sand
Before you knew it, I was back out on that sea
Now I don't mind it so much
Because as long as I'm not there
Anywhere is St. Elsewhere

Way over yonder there is new frontier
Would it be so hard for you to come and visit me here?
I understand
Would you just send me a message in a bottle then baby?
St. Elsewhere

TV is the Best Medicine

Do you all watch Wipeout? Because that is the funniest crap I have ever seen. Apparently my inner child is a 9 year-old boy. Thankfully, so is my husband’s. Speaking of my husband, he was so sweet last night. He fixed popcorn while we were watching Wipeout. Have you ever eaten popcorn while laughing hysterically? Have you ever inhaled a piece of popcorn into your throat? Yeah, I choked for like 10 minutes. I am now convinced that my “sweet” husband was TRYING TO KILL ME.

The first quarter of Wipeout is where all the magic happens. They start out with 24 contestants on an absurd obstacle course and whittle that number down to 12 quickly. And it is HILARIOUS. The second and third quarters are pretty good, but by the final segment, I’m pretty much over it. Huh? What ADD?

After Wipeout, The Goode Family premiered and I really enjoyed it, which means it will probably be canceled in two weeks. I loved the “vegan” dog and all the “missing” neighborhood pets. And the adopted African-American son… who was white. And the dad who works at a college. And the mom who has an existential crisis about shopping bags and her teenage daughter’s sex-life. And… well, just watch it.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Go west, Paradise is there

Only in Cali can you have West Hollywood, San Francisco and Prop 8. California can be an evil two-faced bitch sometimes. This week is certainly one of those times. I don’t have anything especially original to add to this conversation, I only want to reiterate what Her Bad Mother said

“…something that should just be received as a given blessing - more love in the world, more hearts bound to other hearts, more hearts in exulting in the joy of sharing a life.”

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Some Randomness

If you don't read The Wind In Your Vagina, you should. This post is especially special.

I went to a yoga class yesterday and I am disproportionately proud of myself.

I felt compelled to post an update on the bare ass white wall that was pink. Here 'tis now...

I have an unhealthy obsession with blue paisleys.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Summer in the Chaparral

The ground is cracked and bleached nearly as white as concrete. The sun shines down and reflects up, blinding. Weeds cluster around the trees to steal their water. Critters burrow into the ground to escape and sleep.

The rainy season is essentially over until mother nature knows when. There may be some rain in August. There will be some fog in June. Until that time sun and dry dirt feature in our lives like family members, more welcome some days than others.

Cars stir up dust on the road, the wind picks it up and carries it into the house. Whether the doors and windows are open or closed, the dust finds its way into the kitchen cupboards, leaving a white circle behind when the last clean plate is used. The dust finds its way into the closets, leaving ashen shoulders on jackets left unused.

Pets shed their winter coats. Children shed their clothes and turn a darker shade of brown. Evenings bring the blessing of a breeze.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Ease Back

Morning drive, every song on the radio is one we had shared. This is not remarkable. We shared a lot of music. But it did pour some salt in. Yesterday was a hard day. A day when, under other circumstances, I would have called or emailed my friend to commiserate and laugh. Who do I talk to now? My husband is a good man, but he’s no 'girlfriend'. My mom is a great mom, but she is Mom.

My husband, who reads this blog [hi, babe] is worried that I think about my unwell friend too much. He is worried that it might be making me unwell. I don’t know how to reassure him. I am sad. I am scared for her and her family. Sometimes I am mad, but mostly not. It is something I am going through, not something that is ruining me.

Selfishly, I mourn the loss of a friend. I don’t have much luck making friends. I am VERY fortunate in many other ways, but not in friendship. I have friends. But it is not easy for me to open up. It is not easy for me to trust. And this? Was a very good friend. A friend that I failed in some ways. I look back at emails that say, “When can we get together?” Or “I’m angry [at whatever].” Or “I need some 'me' time.” And if I had been a better friend, I would have gone to her and dragged her out of her house for a girls’ day. But I’m not good at that stuff.

Let me be clear. I do not blame myself for what happened. But I do blame myself for letting someone I love feel alone. For letting her slip away just a little too much between December and February.

So now what? I can’t decide whether to go visit again. I miss what used to be, but feel that is gone forever. And can I be the friend she needs now? Can I ignore the biggest motherfucking white elephant that ever found itself in a room and talk with her about work, exercise, superficialities? And NOT talk about my own boy, because that? Is impossible. My throat closes shut. My boy that wore clothes first worn by her older boy, and then later by her younger boy, the one that will never wear any clothes again.

I’ve found new songs since she’s been gone. Some really, really good ones. Songs that will probably be forever tied to her in my mind because they are tied to the emotions I’ve had these last three months. Songs about heaven, and insanity, and forgiveness, light and love.

I hope my husband can continue to be patient with me. Understand that I want to be healthy. I want to be happy. And I am taking steps to make improvements, real, actual steps. But these things don’t get better over night. It may be a rough road, but really, it’s nothing we can’t get through.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Bella Soul

An update on Bella… She is doing her business “regularly” with only one accident inside. She sleeps with me, sits in the bathroom when I shower, at my feet when I eat, etc. She caught site of a wild rabbit for the first time this morning. She didn’t even make a move! This is very unusual at our house. My other girl likes to hunt. The cat even gets in on the action regularly. This combined with her absolute pacifism when relating to the larger beasties we have makes me think she should be named Gandhi.

I didn’t have a camera at hand last night when Austin hugged her, his head down on her neck. I almost died from the cuteness. And as much as she is attached to me, Maya is the one that gets the tail a waggin’. The Shi Tzu and her are on good terms, as long as I’m not home. Or so I hear. If Billy the Shit even tries to come near me for a pat, Bella finds her aggressive side. Only she’s such a spaz that she slips on the hard floor, legs a blur, claws scraping.

I took a walk with the Big Dogs last night and left Bella in the house because she’s still afeared of them. She sat at the window looking out, very tragically. Dusty, the biggest of the Big Dogs, is getting old. He didn’t walk with me; he just stayed in one spot and said hi each time I passed him doing my laps. Later, Bella and I fell asleep getting Austin to bed and when the hubs came in to send me to bed, she barked at him! We’ll have to work on that.

I See Red

Take a Walk

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

It's a rich man's world

I was inspired by something I read today to confess a problem I have. I am addicted to spending money. Not necessarily a lot of money, just everything I have. This month I thought I had myself tricked. I decided to pay all the bills [like I always do] and then empty out the checking account and give the cash to my husband to hang on to so I wouldn’t spend it. I still found ways. Again, not big things… two used DVDs from Amazon [$5 and $7 with shipping], jade earrings from Etsy [$7 with shipping], around 10 songs downloaded as MP3s [$1 each], and the biggest purchase… five pocket buddhas [$3 a piece, $22 total with shipping]. I actually talked to my husband about the buddhas before buying them, that was supposed to be my one non-essential purchase for the month [a SELF-imposed limit] but I still ordered the DVDs and earrings in secret after that.

Now the checking account is overdrawn, the cash is essentially gone [mostly on groceries] and I have $2 in my wallet. And I find I am arguing with myself about that $2. I want to go to my favorite store that sells all sorts of self-help and spiritual goodies and buy a wrist mala. I think they are pretty cheap there, and I bet they have one that would match my jade earrings.

To which, I say to myself “what the fuck, Steph? Really, you want to make a special trip 10 miles away to spend the last $2 you have. And really, they are cheap, but I don’t think they are THAT cheap. WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

To be continued... when I figure out how to freaking control myself.


And before you say "that was only about $50, don't be too hard on yourself," there is no such thing as ONLY $50 when you find yourself COMPLETELY tapped with 9 days to go until payday. There is gas in the car and food in the freezer, but still, COMPLETELY. FUCKING. TAPPED.


Crap! I forgot about the panda salt and pepper shakers [$15 with shipping]. I don't even use salt!

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I need a pick me up

Just for fun...

photo courtesy San Diego Zoo panda photo gallery

A cage for each of us and each of us in our cage

This is the first time I haven’t had loads to say the day after therapy. It was a good session. I talked in circles like I always do. We laughed at a joke she told about fried eggs. I like that about her. She’s a person; it’s not so clinical.

The boy’s sleep schedule has been completely out of whack for a few days and it’s wearing me down. That along with being broke, yet again. There’s too much month at the end of the money.

I’m having trouble focusing at work and feeling the urge to bust out of my cage. I count the minutes until lunch and then count them again until it’s time to go home. I’m torn between being grateful for what I have and having the balls to shake it up and make changes.

Today, May 19

Today is my so-called-dad’s birthday.

Today I have to meet with some people about something I can’t write about.

Today I am tired.


Comments closed.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Ciao Bella

Meet Isabella, the newest addition to our family. I went and picked her up from her other family on Saturday. Circumstances dictate that they must move from a nice house with a yard to an apartment, so Bella-Bella came to stay with us. She was SUPPOSED to be the kids’ dog. I never met anyone who loves critters as much as my kids. Me? I can go either way. They’re cute, but I don’t really love to clean up poop and pet hair makes me insane. But this here dog picked me. She follows me around the house, every step I take. Normally this would bother me. I like my space. But this dog is special. There’s something spiritual there. I’ve never experienced that with a pet. I’m not quite used to it yet, actually.

I can tell this will be a learning experience for me in other ways as well. I think I put patient on that list of mine. Well, be careful what you ask for. This dog is trying my patience, and therefore teaching me patience. This dog is an absolute gem around people. But other dogs? Not so much. She is VERY nervous around our three other dogs… two big beasties outside and one Shi Tzu inside (my MIL's). Bella is so nervous that she refuses to go potty. This is beginning to make ME nervous. Our biggest dog is especially intimidating. His bark is something like what you might hear at the gates of hell. He is really just a big puppy when he is with family, but he knows how to be a guard dog. I just hope everyone manages to get comfortable enough to relax and let her feel at home.

Wish us luck.


Update: She peed!!! I'm sooooo relieved. She probably feels better too. ;)

Friday, May 15, 2009

Say hi, Maya!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Tell me, what would you do?

Hypothetically speaking, let’s say you have this good friend. This friend is someone you could talk to about anything, argue with and never ruin the friendship, share common interests, and lean on in times of marital, financial and work related stress over the years. This friend is intense, a little crazy, but funny as hell and smart as anyone you ever met.

Now let’s say that one day you hear some terrible, really terrible, news. Your friend was arrested for murder. The victim? Her own 17-month old son. Her own baby. A baby that wore your own son’s hand-me-downs. And it wasn’t a peaceful death, it was painful and bloody.

Fast forward almost 3 months. You’ve been struggling to understand what happened. You actually still love your friend because she was such a good friend to you through so many of life’s ups and downs. One day, you get a call from her defense team. Do you help defend her?

Just call us JBJ

Ran across this while poking around in Strange Delights From Under The Lilac Tree and it's so fun!

Make your own album cover...

  1. Go to Wikipedia. Hit “Random Article” or click
    The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
  2. Go to The Quotations Page and click "Random Quotes" or click
    The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
  3. Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days” or click
    Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
  4. Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

Here's mine:

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Who can think of a title at a time like this?

At what point in the therapy process to you begin to feel less crazy? Cause today I just feel like the crazy is closer to the surface, and that’s not ideal for a working girl.

Lori’s ghost is with me today and it’s making me act like a freak, complete with inappropriate over-sharing. Maybe it’s time to start drinking. THAT would certainly curb the over-sharing [snort].

It’s my own fucking fault. I stayed up too late last night watching the Biggest Loser finale. What a let down. That Helen chick scares me a little. Then the boy woke up crying somewhere around midnight. I woke up just before my alarm went off at 5:00, still in the kids’ room and completely disoriented.

Carbs. Carbs will help.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

You don't know how much this means to me

Look what I got for mother's day! No, not the sleepy guy, though he is pretty cute, most of the time. The wall. It's white!

See back before my in-laws moved in with us, before my father-in-law died, this was my tweener daughter's room. This wall was brightest motherfucking hot pink you ever saw. When my husband and I moved into this room, in January, I kept saying that we should paint that wall "this weekend." Ad nauseam. Well, I came home the other day, went to change my clothes, and screamed at the beauty of the white wall. The pink was gone! Hallelujah!

Best Mother's Day gift EVER.

Now we just have to agree on what to hang on the damn wall.

Warning: TMI and clichés ahead

I’m gonna have to rename this site The Therapy Blog. Anyway, I do find it helpful to write some after a session to carry the thought process further and sort out my *feelings* [icky face]. This week we continued the conversation about my dad and my weight and got into more specifics about how the latter has, hand-in-hand with my body image, affected things like my sex life. I don’t think it was said out loud, but the thought occurred to me that maybe I use The Fat as a way to stay distant from people. To have an outward *excuse* for not being attractive, or wanted, in social situations.

Even with my own husband, who is no Twiggy himself, who I have been with for nearly 14 years, who I know loves me in spite of myself, even with him I have trouble getting nekkid. And gods forbid he touch a roll or anything. I get all uncomfortable and twitchy, which doesn’t exactly set the tone for hot monkey luvin.

Enough about that… improving my body image is, I think, a two part process. First, I need to accept that I won’t ever be a Barbie. I realize that sounds like a given, but still, I need to remember that expectations must be realistic. Second, I need to improve the way my body feels and looks. Now, I know some would say the first step should be accepting my body the way it is now, but that shit ain’t gonna happen. I know that I need to take action to begin to feel better.

In order to move forward, these are my first steps:

  • No more Mountain Dew at all, not once a day, not once a week. None. At. All.
  • Exercise every day. Not excessively, just make a habit of getting up and moving. Might be walking, stair steps, lifting… yoga. Oh, how I miss yoga.
  • *Continue* to eat lots of fruits and veggies, get fiber, drink water and eat lean protein.

I’m also considering joining Overeater’s Anonymous. To be honest, I’m a little afraid of it. I am worried, maybe unjustifiably, that it is a cult. I know they talk about God and the Unity of the Group, which freaks me out, but it might just be the right thing, and I want to be open to finding solutions. I’ve done Weight Watchers, but I don’t think that program does enough to address the psychological/spiritual/addiction issues involved in compulsive eating. I know that for me, food is an addiction and an obsession.

I don’t really have a target weight at this point, mostly because the distance I have to go is daunting, but also because I really just want to be more healthy and more happy and that is a journey, not a number on a scale.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Looking forward to menopause

Sometime last night I was ready to tell my husband “it’s me or her; your mother must GO!” But this morning I reached for my trusty birth control pills, noticed that I am exactly a week and half away from starting my period, said “oh… right,” and felt my shoulders drop. Yes, a week and half of PMS is my norm. And for whatever reason, it’s my MIL with her head on the block this time around. Lucky her.

A week and a half of PMS in spite of Yasmin AND Prozac (prescribed for PMDD). Holy fuck, can you imagine if I wasn’t medicated?

Don’t get me wrong, my MIL ain’t perfect. The things that bother me about her are exactly the qualities in my husband that I tolerate more than love. And maybe, just maybe, she and I are a little bit alike sometimes. It’s not totally unheard of for men to marry women that allow them to reenact behaviors they learned in their youth. The thing is, there can only be one Alpha Bitch. And that, my friends, is me. Period.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Happy Mother's Day

There's a special place in my heart today for

mothers who have lost their babies
mothers who have lost their minds
mothers who have lost their mothers
mothers who have lost their partners

Take care of yourselves out there.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Well at least he won't get athletes foot

I think I forgot to mention that the boy pooped in the toilet for the first time last Friday! Woo-hoo!!!

My excitement about that glorious event has been tempered by the fact that he refuses -- REFUSES -- to pee in the toilet. He can hold it for quite a while, keeps his britches dry, but then he runs and hides to pee on the floor. And he's quick about it too. By the time I've noticed he's gone, it's too late.

He'll pee in the bathtub. I'm almost ready to train him to pee in there and then move to the toilet sometime before kindergarten.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The List: Take 2

"The Ideal Me" list of characteristics with some additions...
  • Healthy
  • Strong
  • Open
  • Responsible
  • Resourceful
  • Considerate
  • Respectful
  • Empathetic
  • Passionate
  • Creative
  • Joyous
Does the idea get diluted if the list gets too lengthy?

Me too

That silly boy of mine likes to put on his daddy's clothes these days. He will hold a shirt up to me and say "me too!"

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The D Word

The subject of my therapist came up at the dinner table last night. I could see my husband and mother-in-law wanting to ask what I talk to my therapist about, but then thinking better of it. Thank God.

When I decided to go to therapy, I had a couple specific things I wanted to work through. Lori! My weight! FOOOOOOD! And I figured if my marriage, bankruptcy, job, or whatever came up then fine, that’s good too. But I’ve noticed already that it keeps coming back to my dad. I can’t even type those words… my dad …without getting a bad feeling in my stomach. I’ve been making a conscious effort to chip away at my anger toward him for years now, and I’ve really made a lot of progress. Really. But it’s still there. Way. Down. Deep.

I guess I should address what he *did*. He never beat me or molested me (that was someone else, NOT a family member, but that is a conversation for another day, and my story pales in comparison to others’). He just wasn’t there. My parents divorced before I was a year old. My dad was a pig. Cheating on each of his wives in turn. Lying. Peeping on his neighbors through their windows. I feel weird writing that part, because I wasn’t witness to it. I was witness to disappointment over and over again. I saw him *maybe* twice a year between the ages of 4 and 12. Nothing since then. Each time we went out, he would tell me we would get together again next month, even setting a day and time. But then he just wouldn’t show up. Wouldn’t even call to cancel. Then, another handful of months later, same scene, repeat. It didn’t take long before I just didn’t want to go anymore. My mom made me. I remember crying in my room, saying over and over again that I didn’t want to go. She was doing what she thought was best at the time. She wanted me to know my dad, whatever good he had to give, while I had the chance. I don’t know what choice I would have made had I been in her shoes.

I was probably 5 or so when I was first cognizant of his absence, or rather, the fact that was *supposed* to be there but wasn't. And that pang is what surprises me sometimes even now. I have had times of peace along the way. Realizing that since I never really had him, I didn’t really lose anything. I certainly don’t miss him. I didn’t like spending time with him anyway. I guess it just comes back to feeling like I'm not good enough, worthless, unlovable. His total lack of effort to be present in my life has left a huge gash in my self esteem.

I talked to him on the phone probably 9 or 10 years ago. I honestly don’t know for sure how long it’s been. I wanted to give it a shot. He contacted me first, and I thought I should give him a chance. He won’t live forever after all, you know. We talked maybe twice in the span of a month before I told him not to call anymore. It just hurt too much.

I can't talk about my dad without talking about my grandparents. My mother’s parents have been angels, saviors, blessings and so much more in my life. My grandmother is literally the best, sweetest, most giving, and forgiving person I’ve ever met. I am grateful everyday for her and wish only to possess more of her qualities. And my grandfather, while demanding and sometimes harsh, is a good man who I know loves me. He was the only thing I ever had that even resembled a real father until my mom remarried when I was 16. But I was 16 for chrissake and I wasn’t always nice to my stepdad. He is most definitely number 2 in line of people paying for my dad’s actions. First there is my husband.

Monday, May 4, 2009

What would Stephanie do?

In therapy this week I got some homework. Not homework really, just a suggestion, but it was one I liked. The idea is to write a list of characteristics of The Ideal Stephanie (me). You keep this list handy and whenever you don’t know how to handle a situation without falling into bad habits (for instance, being defensive) you ask yourself “what would a [blank] person do?”

So here is my first draft:

  • Considerate
  • Strong
  • Passionate
  • Responsible
  • Respectful

I think considerate and respectful might be redundant, but I don’t know which one I like better, so here they both are for now. Strong may be too vague, but I was trying to find the opposite of passive and/or defensive without saying assertive, because assertive doesn’t really mean anything to me on an emotional level. Plus it makes me think of that awkward scene in Fried Green Tomatoes when they have to look at their vajayjays in a mirror.

Happy doesn't always come easy

Late Saturday afternoon we all went out for a nice dinner. [By the way, when I say “all” that includes me, the hubs, our two kids and my mother-in-law, who lives with us…] We had a very nice dinner indeed, then went to a produce stand and loaded up on fruits and veggies for the week, went home, filled our bellies even further with strawberries [mmmm] and sat outside in the evening air. It was so absolutely lovely. My husband and I went to bed and did what couples do, and then I cried. A sadness washed over me that was completely unexpected, but not.

I dreamed that night that I was driving a large SUV, something I will never own, and was cursing myself for driving the long way to work to avoid traffic before remembering that there isn’t any traffic anymore on the usual road [we live by a high school and I think their schedule changed recently or something]. I was struggling to turn left onto a busy street with no signal, didn’t notice some pedestrians, and just missed hitting a child. I jumped out of the SUV and ran over to the boy and his father and asked if he was okay. His father, amazingly, wasn’t overtly angry. I was so shaken in the dream that refused to drive to work or home; I called my husband to come get me.

I’ve always been very aware of the potential for great bodily harm that vehicles hold. Scares the ever lovin’ shit out of me, actually. I refuse to ride on my husband’s motorcycle with him because I don’t want to leave my kids with no parents.

An aside… ever since I was very young, I’ve had recurring dreams of being in moving car when there is no one in the driver’s seat. I always struggle to reach over to the steering wheel and gain control of the car, but wake up before that can happen. I realize this dream is more about control (or my perceived lack of it) than it is about driving.

Sunday was a rough day all around, and I found myself lying in bed at the end of the day, asking myself what the hell was the matter, which led to this internal dialogue…

I’m not happy.
Why not, what do I need?
More time by myself. No. Some, any time by myself.
Some place or thing in my life where everything I do isn’t criticized.

I found myself thinking about Lori. Thinking thoughts I can’t post here. Wondering if my husband would be happier if I left. Thinking leaving isn’t possible. Would I take the kids? Leave the kids? Neither option is acceptable. Thinking it’s a good thing I’m in therapy.

Friday, May 1, 2009


Well, it’s official. I mailed the bankruptcy papers today. I have a bad taste in my mouth. That might just be the nasty fries I had yesterday though. Yesterday was a bad food day. BAD.

But the deed is done and now the real fun begins. The debtors’ meeting sounds especially fun don’t you think? I’m walking away from $29,000 in credit card debt. Twenty-nine-thousand. I’m not proud of that, but I’m in too deep now. We’ve been a single income family for nearly three years now, and every fucking moment has hurt. I used credit cards as a crutch (even before the hubs lost his job), but then that crutch got kicked out from under me when the cards were maxed out and they wouldn’t increase my limit. Wonder why…

So now we learn to budget. And I have a hard time with that. I pout because I’ve been working since I was 17 goddamnit and I don’t have anything to show for it except well fed kids. And a very large DVD collection. I don’t know what it is I want that I think I can’t have, I’m just tired of things being tight. I’m tired of robbing Peter to pay Paul. I want to go to Disneyland. Pout, pout, pout.

All right, I’m shutting up now. I have health insurance, enough food, a car that runs, and satellite TV. What the fuck to I have to complain about, really?