An Open Horizon

Okay, Okay... so I just wanted to drop a quick note to all my lady friends.

I've noticed a shift in the last year. I've stopped watching talk shows and only read Parenting magazine, so that may be the shift I've seen.... but still. The shift is an empowerment amongst us gals. I partially blame the gay movement. Why? Because you pretty ladies are emerging with your chopped off hair, boy pants and no make up. You are kissing your partners and the world took notice to how damn sexy you tend to be while doing it.



Lesbians are making hetero women realize they were mislead on what "real" beauty is meant to look like. Well, labels aside... you can tell the shift is style. It's kind of 80s grunge and I love it. Our teenagers are showing us adults how it's done. Tegan and Sara are setting a prime example of beauty beyond the magazines. Hell, the phenomenon of the Philippines Transgender Pageant have shown us that the beauty of a women is an open horizon.

So lets take this moment to smile at our beautiful bodies and faces. Let's caress our stretch marks from birth like honor. Let us make cosmo and other fluff magazines sell us health food instead of quick fix creams. Ladies, take a look around you. Skinny isn't in-- being healthy and loving yourself IS!

Now that I have a daughter I realize more and more how critical my mother was of my sister and I growing up. My mother is a bit of a control freak (she's gotten a lot better since my adolescence) so she just wanted us to be like her, which is understandable... but even with that said, I'd much rather my daughter be with the fringe crowd and dress in clothes from goodwill than be with the cool kids in the name brand clothes. It takes more confidence to overcome the Mean Girls than to join them.

In middle school I use to come home and cry for hours because of what was said to me. I would leave the house with my sister teasing me and then spend hours at school hearing about my appearance from others. I'd hear about who was wearing make up and who had sex over the weekend. One of my close friends was going to the tanning bed every day with her mother. I felt consumed with my outsides and it made my insides twist with confusion.

"If I wore lipstick maybe he'll notice me."
"If I wore different jeans maybe she'd be nice to me at school tomorrow."
"If I bought different shoes maybe I could sit with the cool kids at lunch."

By the time I turned fifteen I had already had sex, began painting my toe nails and would spend hours in front of a mirror trying to fix my hair just right. That is entirely too young to have had sex already. I had been sexualized by peer pressures about my appearance. It seems a lot of people don't see that connection. If you start out your child giving them stern gender barriers:

"No, Timmy, only girls play with dolls."

"No, Dana, only boys like the color blue." 

You make them define themselves purely by their gender and not by their interests. You are restricting them from expression and forcing them into roles that are way past due to be shattered.

By forcing your kid into the role of "male" and "female" instead of "baby", "child" and "teenager" you are telling them to act out roles of "female is submissive to her male counterpart" and "have sex to keep your man interested" because those are the examples we are giving our children at home and in the media. If you make your daughter define herself as a girl instead of a person, she'll follow all those Top Girl fashions and Girls Guide to Sex lists. Now, I'm not saying that it won't happen regardless and preteens are already developing their personalities and have their own opinions about things already. I'm just saying-- maybe it'll show our teenagers that finding themselves and loving themselves is more important than finding what's in each others pants?

[Quick Disclosure] I'm speaking purely on personal experience and theory.

Maybe it was because I was raised in a very religious home. Maybe it's because I grew up in a small town and there wasn't much else for young people to do but explore other people's bodies, get involved in drugs or get a job. Luckily, I chose the job route. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and no matter how many showers I took I swore my hair still smelled like cheeseburgers. I didn't respect myself though, I sought love through affection because I knew of no other way. I had been taught that love comes from the outside in, not the inside out. That is what I wish to never impose on my daughter. Why did it take me years in my twenties to realize that I had to love myself first? Why didn't someone tell me before hand?

O yeah, that's right, I was told jesus would make me happy and that's the only way I could find love. Way to give everyone insecurities and not let them trust their own instincts, jesus. What a douchebag. I didn't know of anything else. I was told if I put on my sunday best (outward appearance), gave my heart to god (outside source), and love him first (outside source) maybe I could be happy (inside) the rest of my life. Instead, it took me reversing that list and omitting religion all together before I felt comfortable with myself and began to love myself full on. I worked hard on getting to where I am today with my body. I'm still thirty or so pounds over what I was when I made this revelation but I realize I've had a baby and I don't let a little thing like baby weight make me reconsider my love for myself. I remember what it took to get to where I loved myself and I plan on revisiting those things to nurture my love.

Every relationship needs attention, even the relationship with yourself.

That's just my insight for today. Pass this on to someone you know struggling to find love through someone else. You can love yourself and still want to change things about yourself. Only you should be allowed to make those decisions about yourself anyway.

Couponing

I'm attempting to coupon.

I'm not awesome at it. I spent a couple hours today trying to round up the coupons and sales and still spent more than I saved. But, I did save a good amount compared to what I spent so that's better than nothing. I was averaging $30 savings a trip and today I saved $51. (I don't think that counts the $10 I saved using my dependent card at Target) I used cellphone coupons, the Target Cartwheel app (Which is AMAZING, by the way. Even if you aren't big on coupons. It reminds me of the "cash back" stuff on credit cards) and good ole print outs and manufacturing coupons.

I went with Hubby. I think next time I plan on couponing I need to go with just me and stick to my list. I want to do that extreme couponing stuff and I want to stock up so I can have endless food. I want to have organized hoarding like those chicks do on TV. I need to find out how to do multiple purchases and such. I'm freaking out a bit.

My babysitting job fell through and I officially quit my cellphone job. I have to make up for that loss of money somewhere. I have to. I'm falling into a dark hole. I can tell Hubby is stressed because of our money situation and I want to do what I can to pull my own weight.... other than being a housewife. Doing laundry doesn't pay the bills, ya know?

I'm learning to save my Redplum inserts and not cut them out unless I plan on using them. I'm learning to not print out coupons unless I plan on using them. The couponing blogs usually link a printable anyway. I just want to pull a big haul for $20 instead of this kind of bogo thing I have going on. Anyone have any tips? Any websites you go to? Have YOU mastered the multiple purchase small dollar amount?

Back to youtube and couponmom I go...

Nicolas Cagey

I keep starting a blog and never finishing it. Either on the computer or in my head I've written quite a few blogs I just can't seem to get over here and type the damn thing out.

I even started writing it on my phone just to get into some rambly rant thing that just didn't jive right. So here I am, attempt number twenty. Put a stamp on it.

I've been writing a lot in my apocalypse blog. I've gotten sudden inspiration for it. It just started pouring out. Maybe it's because I've felt caged lately. Sequestered. Itching to get out but no where to really go. I'm relearning myself as a person. I'm Mom now. I'm trying not to get too wrapped up in it, though. I think that's how women become twisted and catty. I'm Mom but I'm also me. Zombie and music loving knit hippy. Yup, that's me. But now I change diapers, worry over that noise I just heard and I make sure to read the latest Parent magazine from cover to cover. O, and Pinterest is my bro. I read more recipes than anything else recently. Maybe that's why I'm cagey, I haven't read a book since I got back from NC.

 Cagey... ha...

Nicolas Cagey.

But anyway... that's been my life as of now. I'm pretty surprised as the amount of traffic my blog has gotten. One post and it doubled it's all time views in a week. Maybe I'll actually stick with it this time. Eh. Who knows? I do need to get out of the house though. I keep missing my knitting group. I feel like I shifted "my week" to Thursday to Thursday so I could catch it and I still realize it's Saturday and then I'm all, "Dammit, man! What happened to Thursday?!"

I think I'm slowly overdosing on coffee and Cheers. I really do need to start reading again. I can't lose myself in the zombie apocalypse. There is too much life around me for that. Too much pint sized life. I'm starting to see what people mean by seeing life through their eyes. Her expressions, her smile, the way she blows raspberries... everything. She's just adorable. Her eyes follow you across the room. She even does a sad face if you walk away from her and she wasn't done playing yet.

And what is it with kids and losing ONE SOCK?!

 

Sometimes you just need to cry

Learning how to be a parent is exhausting. Not only does everyone have an opinion, throw in some lack of sleep and realizing you haven't showered in a week... all you want to check yourself into the nut house for some quiet time.

A week or so ago I had a moment of, "Don't look back" and then instantly felt guilty.

It had been a horrible day. BabyG woke up consistently every few hours during the night and then at 3am went into an extreme fit. She wouldn't latch on to breast feed in the bed and was punching and scratching my chest and nipples. OUCH! I might add. This form of restlessness means she is DONE with trying to sleep, or at the very least done with being in the bed. I move to the living room and change her diaper (Which always seems to be full). She plays for a few minutes before getting mad again, I lay on the floor and nurse next to her. I dose off on the floor next to her feeling like a mother cat with a kitten. I awake about an hour later to her screams, she had awoken from her little cat nap and was hungry again. I move to the rocking chair and hope to get a bit more sleep out of her. I manage to get a few more hours of sleep with her secured to me by pillows in the chair. Hubby wakes up and playfully kisses me awake. All of my small amount of energy is used to not jump from the chair and strangle him. I was sleeping the best all night and every second is precious.

The entire day is spent nursing every 45mins and listening to screaming if I have to go to the bathroom or fix myself something to eat. I'm so tired the entire day I can barely form a thought. I keep telling myself she's my daughter and I should love her. I'm so lucky to have a baby when so many people all over the world would love to be in my situation. I have some close friends that keep trying and not succeeding. I should be grateful, I tell myself, this is a blessing. Children are a blessing, BabyG is healthy and growing. I search the internet about her nursing habits, I check her temperature, everything is normal. It's a growth spurt, her doctor's appointment was in just a couple days away so I decided to stick it out as long as her temperature stayed normal.

Before I know it the sun has dipped behind the horizon and I'm starving. I had managed to eat a few things that take the less effort possible but we hadn't gone grocery shopping so we needed something and quick because my patience was well overspent.

Hubby gets home and changes into his comfy street clothes and plops down on the couch to play on his phone with little to no response to my inquiry on dinner. This is something new has been doing, the tango of who's going to do what. No hint of moving when a decision is made so it makes me think we're at a stand off. The anger builds behind my eyes and flexes it's muscles, I hand him his angry baby who had been nursing for almost a full hour and said, "I'll go. You stay here. Text me what you want." With that, I was out. I stuck the key in and pushed the button to start the car. I had a surge of excitement as I slowly pulled out of the apartment parking lot. This was the first time I was out of the house without the baby. My self awareness slowly seeped back. My teeth weren't brushed, I looked down and noticed I was basically in pajamas and with a glance in the mirror I see my nasty hair-- When was my last shower? Well, fuck.

I was just going through a drive through anyway, I reasoned with myself. Who cares. I'm still fuming about how passive and "who cares" attitude Hubby had when very obviously I was starving and it would've been nice if he had offered to help me with his daughter. I drove the exact speed limit to expand my time out of the house. "We don't have onion rings," the first place I stopped at tells me through the speaker box. Her attitude was too much. "Fuck this place. Cancel my order." I bark at her through the box. Okay, she had some tude but cussing at her wasn't nice. I thought about apologizing but I knew anything I had ordered in it's place would come with special teenage spit-sauce so I decided to go somewhere else instead. I drive in the opposite direction and decide I need wine. I instantly knew why my BFF use to tell me about drives she would take, just circling around my tiny little town wasting a few hours to blow off some steam. She would just use the time to gathering herself and maybe cry to herself about the recent frustrations.

I parked in front of a department store and cried. I turned the car off and sobbed as loud as my body would allow. People slowly walked by and tried to stare without me noticing. I didn't care. I wanted to scream: "I HAVE A BABY AT HOME, I NEED THIS! SHUT YOUR FACE!" I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and let the tears roll down my nose and drop, drop, drop down into my lap. I shouldn't have cussed at the fast food chick, no matter how snotty she was. Her day was obviously going south as it were. Hell, I may have just projected her being snotty and she wasn't even meaning to sound the way she did. Maybe Hubby wasn't being evasive when he got home? Was I projecting that too? No, he was totally being evasive and avoidy and totally unacceptable. I check the time, I've been gone for twenty minutes at this point. Twenty glorious minutes. I tell myself I'll take a full hour. Yeah, fuck it. I had just fed BabyG before I left so I deserve an hour, she won't be starving.

I even entertained the thought of not going back at all. What would happen if I just took off? I grip the steering wheel with both hands at ten and two. I flex my fingers and close my eyes. I imagined seeing the road slip underneath the car in the night. I picture me driving to Florida and sleeping on the beach then waking up the next day to finish the drive to North Carolina. I just wanted to cry on BFF's shoulder and curl up on her couch in a drunken stupor. Yeah, I could do that. I tried to factor in how much gas money I'd need. Wait. What am I doing? I can't leave my baby, I can't leave Hubby. What would Hubby do with me gone? He'd do fine. I knew he'd do fine. BabyG would be fed formula and Hubby would divorce me and find a beautiful woman that BabyG would call Mommy and forget all about me. I was the deadbeat mom. He was the savior. My stomach turned at the thought of someone else raising my kid. I couldn't do that. I tried to beat myself up about thinking about such an atrocious thing but there wasn't enough room in my soul for more sadness.

I spent a full hour shopping for my wine and just taking laps around the store. It felt nice to walk around unattached. I kept checking my phone and wondered why Hubby hadn't texted me yet. Did he even care I was gone? Whatever, I thought. Maybe he is mad at me. O well, I'm mad at him, I thought. I picked up a few things on a whim and decided I needed a book. Growing up in a small town with a bunch of dumb rednecks I quickly learned that reading was a prime escape when I couldn't physically disappear. I self medicated with wine and a book. I paid for my items and realized I would still need to bring home food. I stopped at a burger place attached to the same parking lot just in time to receive a text message.

Hubby
  -Where are you?
Me 
 -I'm on my way home.

Nothing else. He didn't ask where I had been or inquire more about anything. Augh. As I'm parking I can see in through our open window, he is pacing with BabyG. He stops when he notices me and looks pissed as I'm unloading the bags from the car. I think about getting back in the car and driving off. No, I think, I have to face this. I make my way up the stairs and put some groceries away and pour myself a glass of wine. BabyG's lips were dry and she looks uncomfortable. Hubby drops some guilt on me about how hungry she is. I was only gone two hours. Whatever, I think, who cares? I'm just baby food. I had resigned myself to being an object rather than a person.

"Where is your food?" He asks.
"I decided not to eat." I respond. He just stares at me. I take a seat next to him and notice he's eating french fries, "Are there onion rings in the bag?"
"No."
"Goddammit. The whole fucking reason I went there was because the first place 'didn't have anymore onion rings' Stupid bastards." My rage is way too much at that point. I just lean my head back on the couch and try to shove it all back in the bottle.
"You okay?" He asks.
"No, I'm not." I instantly start crying, his face softens. I unload on him how I felt while I was out.
"You matter too, ya know." He says, shoving fries in his mouth. "You want some?" 
I shake my head no.
"You need to eat. You have to eat. BabyG depends on you. What's wrong?"
I cry a little harder, I only exist so she can. Great. What about me? "I'm just depressed."
He gives me a really long look, I look away but every time I look back he is still looking at me, searching for something to say then he breaks the silence, "Anything I can do?"

It's moments like that, that validate why I married him. Then I realized that if I had left we would've never had that conversation. It's so easy to leave, it's so much harder to stick with it. No matter how easy it is to be in love with Hubby, co-existing with someone and raising a third party is difficult. Juggling each other, work and a baby is hard. Being under the universe's thumb while trying to successfully function is hard.

Reading has helped, by the way. Hubby has started helping around the house more and the next day wasn't quite as hard. Every day it seems like BabyG lays on the floor longer, is happier with more tummy time and some times I even get a little longer between feedings. Every day is different. Some days are a breeze while others are full of challenges. I'm grateful and very lucky to have a spouse that is willing to put forth an effort and help me when requested. He even helps without my request, too. While I have a great support group they are on separate coasts and it isn't an easy drive. None of our friends here have kids and meeting people is hard. I'm glad I didn't leave but now I understand why people do... But leaving is a bad choice, it leaves lots of room for regret. 

Dear Baby,

You are loved. First and foremost, love is what your father and I have for you. He loves you more than me, I'm pretty sure of it. I'm okay with it as long as you both don't gang up on me and call me names. But anyway, we love you. I want so many things for you. I want to protect you from all the hate in the world. I want you to dye your hair green and openly take your girlfriend to prom. (If you have girlfriends) I want you to stand up for the weak hearted and stand tall to the weak minded.

You are the next generation. You will be the captain of your own ship. I won't know your every emotion unless you express them to me. Please, express your emotions. I hope you learn to accept others even if they don't accept you. I want you to climb mountains and dive into the deepest seas. I want you to be better than I ever was. I look forward to holding you as you sleep and then chasing you down once you learn how to use your feet.

No matter how far you travel in this world I want you to know that you can always call Mom and Dad to pick you up. If you are anything like we were during our teen years a 3am phone call asking us to pick your drunk ass up won't be too far fetched. Lying will get you into the most trouble, truth will allow for less consequences (If any) to come your way.

Now, I must tell you about the world you're about to enter. The world is an ugly, fantastic place... Filled with demons and hidden unicorns. Hopefully you will also befriend a Queen or two. (They are fabulous friends indeed) The food is everlasting and always go for the local eateries over the chain restaurants. There is war, there will always be war. There is famine and starving children, there is sadness and suicide. Death is always closer than you imagine. Gravity is a science I hope you learn to appreciate, along with all the amazing science you I hope you want to prove (or disprove).

Even with all the nastiness in the world, I hope you will see the beauty around you. I hope to teach you the beauty of the world amongst all the sadness. I hope your new eyes see the world as a challenge rather than a burden. As you wiggle around in my belly I hope you someday appreciate the life that has been given to you. You have a couple more months to kick box in my belly and I hope you are able to be strong and take that first breath that leads into many million more. If you are able to join us out here, I'd really love to meet you and get to know you.

Love and kisses,
Your Mommy <3 p="p">

Opinions are like ass holes...

Okay, Okay... so I was going to do this in-depth rant about why I'm boycotting Chick-Fil-A and blahblahblah. I've actually deleted people over the CFA crap because of how they stated their opinion on Facebook.

I also find it an odd connection that the most overweight people are the ones that are spamming their dying devotion to CFA...

Honestly, I'm already quite tired of the subject. I'm not going to eat there anymore. Got it. Done. Sealed deal. Hubby even agrees that we're going to stay away from the place and he's the most neutral person I know. My opinion of such is this: If CFA won't hire homos, us homos (and supporters) shouldn't give CFA any money. Also, every time you give that company money you are funding all of those anti-homo establishments he's donating to. It's not just his stance against equality that gets my blood boiling.

But all of that is beside the point of this blog. Opinions are opinions, okay? I have them, you have them, Obama has them and so does CEOs of major fast food chains. Everyone is entitled. Ninety percent of the time I let those opinions slide by me without even mentioning my side of it. I might even smile and give you a weak nod when I'd rather rip that opinion from your throat and shove it up your ass. [What? I can be violent in my head.] Well, then there is that ten percent of the time. That ten percent where I feel that not only your opinions may be hurting others but also isn't quite fair to those you might not even know. Equality is one of them. I'm quite passionate about equality and also my money. My money and my equality, we're BFFs... money, equality and I. I want to be able to put my money where I want, marry who I please and be myself. Those are my main goals in life. Now, that doesn't sound so difficult does it?

Then I read this on facebook:

"Why would I stop eating CFA, you're an idiot to think just because I eat there I'm against homos."

"You're a bunch of ignorant fools to think I'm going to stop getting my chicken on because of their CEOs opinions."

"Who gives a shit about this? I'm eating Chick-Fil-A for lunch today!"

Okay... so... I get it... you're going to eat there anyway. Uh-huh. Got it. Why call me names and say my opinion is idiotic just because you don't agree with it? Why is equality dumb to you? Is eating fast food TRULY that important to you that you couldn't give up ONE fast food joint because you're too consumed with their product that their opinions won't stop you from funding their efforts against your friends? Yes, these individuals that have stated similar things as above have close friends who are homosexual. I'm not only appalled but disgusted and quite frankly... hurt. I'm hurt that these people that I know, like, and called friend... would say these things. I deleted these people that made these similar statements. Not because of the one post about it, but because the constant berating against equality in the name of fast food.

I'm so sorry that your friends don't matter enough for you to pass up one fucking meal at a fast food place that will probably give you cancer anyway and will DEFINITELY increase your waist line.

I'm hurt to think that these people that I know are so proudly (and consistently) spamming their Facebook pages with images and words making fun of the people striving for the boycott idea. It's beating a dead horse. I do realize there is tons of propaganda out there right now that homos are pumping out left and right trying to get people to boycott CFA, that may seem like an abundance to you and it's annoying you as much as I am to the opposite. I understand that. I'm not saying keep your opinion to yourself, I'm just saying try not to be hurtful about it. There are teenagers killing themselves every day because not only their family but now strangers are publicly announcing their hate for their homo-ness. Okay, that sounded very, "Lets do this for the kids" but honestly...  

why the fuck not?

Middle Finger Thrown.

The problem with being a free thinker and someone who doesn't want to conform to the universal idea of how to get money... I find myself broke, extra picky about finding a job... and constantly turned down because of my tattoos.

Okay, so technically I haven't been turned down directly about my tattoos but I've applied to a job, got the interview and everything seems koshery-good until she brought up covering my tattoos. Okay, I get it, socially a lot of "suits" don't like their peons covered in ink. I got it but I don't understand it and I find it offensive. I, of course, didn't let the interviewee know all that. I smiled and promised to cover my tattoos as needed. None of my tattoos are out-rightly offensive (Unless you don't like Disney movies, non-expletive poetry or find flowers and stars the bane of your existence.) I also have my lip pierced but haven't had a lip ring in just because I'm lazy. I often forget I have tattoos. Not because I feel they are unnoticeable... just because I don't feel like they define me. My tattoos are equivalent to make up to me, I just can't wipe them off and they don't smear when I cry. It's like your favorite necklace you don't take off, mine is just poked deep into my skin tissue. So... how would you feel if you went for a job interview and they liked everything you  had to say and finished up with a squinted expression, "Everything seems great... except that necklace. Can you tuck it in or cover it up while you're on our time? That'd be great, thanks. We just don't want others influenced by your ideas of beauty, that's all." I feel like they're asking me to put a bag over my head.... Who says a white girl never gets judged by her skin?

I get asked, "Would you have tattoos if you had realized it would cause people to prejudge you, especially in a job setting?"
My answer: "Yes."

That's my short answer, anyway. Yes. Yes, I would cover my skin in beautiful markings. No, I don't give a fuck if that means certain jobs won't take me. I don't want them, back! Yeah, take that! Middle finger thrown. Yeeeeaaaahh, I'm mature and stuff.

Sigh. Okay, so it does bug me. I really think I didn't get the job I got an interview for because of the manager's disgust with tattoos. So now I'm trying to find non-mainstream-esk jobs. So far I'm finding non-degree counselor for disgruntled and/or mentally-disturbed kids, middle man for placing exchange students and nanny for hire. I don't really want to work in a kitchen although working in Louisiana and working my way to Sous Chef in a creole kitchen sounds like a life-goal. I am also thinking of applying to Daiquiri bars.

But anyway. I am feeling this intense need to flex my music muscle. I want to get back into a music theory class. I want to learn the scales and be able to just pick them up from nowhere. I want to do something with that knowledge somehow. It may be all the coffee talking-- but I want to get a headache over sheet music and correct the wrong scale in a piece of music. I want to be able to visualize in my head the correct flow of tunes no matter what instrument is being played. I'm getting rusty and I don't like it. I feel like a has-been of what never was.




Also, all of my "dream job" ideas tend to return with little to no money.

Figures.

I want both.

Ten days. One Zero. Ten. Ten days and I get to wake up next to him, cuddle him during a thunderstorm and nag him when I'm feeling bitchy. Sigh I cannot wait! I can tell that he's excited too, since his smiles are bigger on Skype as of late.

"You're going to miss those babies!"
I keep hearing from... well... everyone. It's true too. The twins I babysit have quickly become my entire life. My reason to get up in the morning, my smile when I feel like crying as well as my hair-pulling, snotty nosed cry babies when I'm already at my wits end. They cry when I walk out of a room, they make me feel needed.... they snuggle me close when they're feeling bad. I'm going to miss those little bobble heads like no other. It's not just the twins though, I'm going to miss their older sister, their mom, their dad, their Mama C and PawPaw. All of them. This family has been with me through the thick and thin. They have given me a place to stay when no one else wanted me. This family has given me a job when I was scraping by at a sandwich shop. This family has done absolutely everything for me, without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. Leaving them breaks my heart. I can't help but cry at the idea of leaving them at all much-less in need. The boys are still too young for daycare and too expensive to have in daycare, anyway. The boys don't like strangers but they took to me the first time I met them. Their older sister asks if I'm out of the house for longer than twenty minutes. I feel more apart of this family than I have any family, ever. Yes, even my own. They accept me for who I am and always wish me the best. They have showed me unconditional love (Not required by blood relation) and now I have my chance at also creating a family of my own. It's the dilemma of a life time. I've tried not to think about it. BFF (The twin's mom) and I don't speak about it... It's the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. I worry about them thinking I'm abandoning them. Is it too selfish to leave now? But staying hurts too. I feel like I'm happy with a thorn in my side. It's like gnawing my arm off to live another day. I want both things equally. To stay and be apart of this family and to go and start my own with someone who I've always had a very strong emotional attachment to.

I want both.

I want both.

I want both.

I've been going through the motions since I got back from my short visit to Louisiana. Sometimes I'm in the moment [with normal every day routine] and I'd think, "I've got to remember this, take a picture, cherish it... I'm about to move" and it still wouldn't feel real. As I'm nearing the single digits on my countdown, the realization has settled heavy somewhere in my pelvic region. (You know, where IBS lives.) I feel like it's a backpack when I run, a fly in my ear as I play with the boys and a heavy beating drum when I'm hanging out chatting with BFF. I don't feel doubt in wanting to live and be with Hubby, I feel guilt for being happy. Does that make sense? How can I be happy about something that will be taking me away from this new family that has stood by me for so long? Guilt because I've lost friends along the way and it doesn't bother me. Guilt because I'm so happy and quite frankly, I'm not sure I care who I lose in the process. (Well, accept the twins and their family. Everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care.) Hubby means that much to me.... I hear that's suppose to prove you do have real love. The fact that the ones that matter supports us the most seems to be the shining factor.

This isn't a thinking decision, this is a decided matter. It's finally sunk in. It's real. This isn't a fantasy anymore. This isn't a day dream on a hot summer day in Greensboro... or a last thought before drifting off to sleep in the middle of winter....

This is real.

Holy shit, is it real.

Why We are Eloping

For one, Hubby and I have known each other for quite some time. Most of our communication and hanging out was done without informing the masses. Our friendship for the most part was private. Not because we felt we had to be secret, but because we never felt a need to blab it around town. Our time together was always special and outside populace was never a concern. Our mutual friends reacted both shocked and not-so-shocked at us announcing the news. They were shocked because no one realized how close we were and not-so-shocked because they could totally see us together.

I know I love him. I know he loves me. That is not in question. To us, we don't need an audience to prove our vows valid. Not to mention the gawkers that would show or the abundance of drama that could ensue from our drunken friends speaking to our relatives. "Remember when..." stories would rosy our cheeks super quick-like.

So I guess in a way, we are saving face and giving everyone the middle finger too. Not so much in a "Screw you guys, we don't need you!" kind of way but in a, "You guys are awesome but we would rather be alone for this." kind of way. So maybe the middle finger is just to our exes and those that were trying to keep us apart although we were friends with each other and we refused to stop txting and calling each other.

Don't take it personally. My grandmother (whom could lay an egg with excitement that I'm marrying a man) isn't invited to see the exchange of vows and legal signing of documents. That is saying something. Also, our mothers had the same excitement and glee, "I'm just happy you two found each other and will be married!" At this point they just want me to squeeze out a kid or two and us live under the same roof-- I don't think they really care about the rest. (It's all just a technicality to get married, really.)

Basically-- Us getting married is just a socially enforced thing that also enables us to do all those fancy things you're trying to keep gay people from. We want those fancy state/federally acknowledged things. Plus, I think he really digs the idea of me sporting his last name. Nothing to do with religion or if I wore white or not.... or what soandso said to soandso... and "zOmg, can you believe her hair?" Yeah... none of that. At least not on our dime. You can do that all you want from afar on Facebook. (Which, duh, will happen)

In two weeks we move under one roof.

C a n n o t       w a i t!

To Whom it May Concern:

It has come to my attention that my sexuality is the definitive of who I am [when it comes to other people.] Not only do I find this offensive; I have spent days contemplating the proper way to address this when I feel like I should never have to.

I date girls-- I'm wrong and going to hell. How dare I be public and proud about such a disgraceful way of life!

I marry a guy -- since I'm not ashamed or secretive about it I must be a liar and everyone around me should question anything I've said to them in the last four years.

Obviously, both assessments are horribly incorrect. I, personally, don't see my relationship as anyone's immediate business.. Or the main factor of my entire existence, for that matter. I have so many contributing factors in my life. Ive always been my own person. I do not define myself through who I am with or have been with.

"But you put it all over Facebook"
No, I put that I am happy and give credit where it is due. That's all I feel I am doing. Why do some individuals feel I am rubbing it in their face? That is truly not my intent.

I post about 10% of my life on the Internet-- that's combining this blog, twitter and Facebook. That's a whole 90% that I don't let you fuckers in on... And guess what? Of that 10% I share with this huge world of digital high school: everything is vague and purely self-involved... Which I guess knocks that 10% down to about 6%.

Yes, I said self-involved. I don't say anything that is not my business (especially if it doesn't involve me at all.)

With that said, I have also deleted a bunch of people, pictures and information from my Facebook. I haven't posted a play by play of my day on any social media in quite some time.

I feel no need to explain myself to anyone. (Although I guess I kind of am) Even amongst all the backlash, I should feel no obligation to title myself under any sexual orientation. The person I date/marry knows how I feel about them and that's all that is relevant.

It isn't helpful to demand answers from me or put pressure on our relationship. If you know me at all why is it so difficult to just accept me as a person and be happy about me being happy? I'm not a deceptive person; I'm not out to hurt anyone nor am I trying to "pull a fast one." I'm in this relationship for all the right reasons: THAT is all that matters. It's not your place to be confused about my sexual preferences. I should not have to defend myself on this subject.

Lesbian Internet Dating aka Pen Pals via Internet

Either FireFox hates me or I black out when I type things.

Do you know how embarrassing it is to type not only the wrong word, but misspell it terribly?

So. Frustrating.

It's also not a turn on, I'm sure. I'm trying a stab at online dating. Well, not getting into a relationship with people via the interwebs, but rather finding people on the interwebs that I may want to spend some time with in real life. My word choices and wording has been atrocious. I feel like I need to proof read everything three times before I send a response and yet I still fucking fail at getting it right. I'm not avid at my attempts right now, but more or less enjoying conversation with someone I might have never otherwise gotten acquainted with. It's also fun to see how people describe themselves. I read their resume and critique them like I'm sure they do me. I even come across people I've seen around town and I'm all omigodface and wonder if they even would place me if I inquired. (By "Around town" I mean "I probably drunkenly hit on them while at a bar")

I also ask myself: Should I be embarrassed?

Nah, I tweet too much bullshit to be embarrassed about being caught on a dating site by someone I barely know.

I'm also very interested in the blogs that people link via their profiles. I'm finding fantastic ones. I think I may just take up dating their blogs. It's like dating them but in a creepy.internet.stalker way. Well, maybe not creepy... since I won't be googling them until I find their home address or anything. That's just too much work for me. I prefer to read their sentences and find my common interests amongst their words, wondering if they'd read my blog in the same manner.

Dating sites always amaze me in the way that (generally speaking) people assume these sites are for casual sex only. I also think the approach to online dating is very different if you are heteromale or heterofemale. By being a lesbian it is my duty to find a wife that I will want to spend most of my time with and possibly get an animal together with. (Okay, so not really.) I guess you could say I fail horribly in that aspect. I am just interested in finding a lady to spend some cutesy relationship-like time with. Not to mention-- the coolest profiles I find the chicks are in an entirely different state and/or already involved with someone in their real life existence. I'm not only discouraged by this, it also proves my theory of where I am isn't for me. When I first joined the site it gave me a list of worst states and best states I would probably find a date. I thought it was interesting and a cruel joke at my expense.

My Best States:

1.  Oregon
2.  Massachusetts
3.  Vermont
4.  Colorado
5.  California 

Obviously I don't live in any of those states... and honestly, I have no desire to even visit those listed. Well, maybe Cali but Colorado? Fucking seriously? I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than even spend 10mins in that state. (No offense to anyone who likes it there. Honestly, I've never even been there to judge it properly) It's so landlocked it makes me claustrophobic to even consider it. So right off the bat-- the website, built for finding love, was giving me the middle finger at my aspirations of finding someone that might even likelike me. I mean... come on... couldn't they have at least told me somewhere I might want to move? Or maybe even list a state that is an easy days drive?

My Worst States:
1.  Arkansas
2.  Mississippi
3.  Oklahoma
4.  Alabama
5.  West Virginia

Go ahead, laugh it out. I sure did. I remember a big, belly laugh and covering my mouth to stifle the audacity bubbling up within me as I read the worst state list. I would like to say they made this list purely off of my homo-status and called it a day. Is anyone really surprised by this? No, not at all. Well, I didn't expect you to be.

Then, they continued with the waving of such a rude gesture in my face, tauntingly, as they continued these fancy lists of countries I would be better and worst suited.

My Worst Countries:
1.  Indonesia
2.  Philippines
3.  Malaysia
4.  Thailand
5.  Singapore

No 3rd world countries. Check. I mean... really... this has to be another homo judgement. But then again, America is pretty shitty on the homo-front and it has the means to be more accepting but the Religious Doctrine that is drenching our Politics is just disastrous and holding us back... but that's a-whole-nother blog.

My Best Countries:
1.  Austria
2.  Israel
3.  Belgium
4.  Greece
5.  Switzerland

Again with the sadface. I mean, those all sound like amazing places but with my feeble income I highly doubt I will spent any amount of time in any of those places to find love. It's a nice thought though.... I could be all Elizabeth Gilbert and return home with a paid book deal, focus and lots of sexy time under my sarong. (or whatever the local fashion is)

So yeah... there is is. hah, I never wanted to tell people I had joined a dating site, but I figured what the fuck... more people are on one than you'd expect and there is no shame. Seriously, unless you are using it to find your next murder victim-- Keep on keepin' on!

Just sayin'

Homo-wha?

I'm trying to form a blog. Compose words into meaning. Type things that would entice your thought process and even maybe change your mind about a few things.

There is something about seeing a natural disaster that sets everything in perspective. Something that triggers the, "this is bad, but it could always be worse" mindset. The ache in your gut that there was nothing physically possible in stopping what has already occurred. The fleeting feeling that you've left emotional struggles to face head-on the physical ones.

I left Greensboro in haste. I was pretty much an emotional wreck. Not a slow moving train or sinking ship... but a fully submerged vessel still glub-glubbing to the bottom and a derailed train, doing flips down an endless cliff. Both at the same time.

Yes, that serious.

I arrived at night and by the mask of darkness my hometown seemed pretty normal until I went to park in my mother's yard. I had to wedge my car in between fallen branches and chopped up tree. My mom's yard is huge and I couldn't find a place to park... anywhere. Her entire yard was covered by branches and fallen trees. It was really bad, the worst I've ever seen it. We spent 12hrs cleaning up that mess and I got to see the neighborhood in the sun as I traveled to my sister's house. Everyone seemed to be outside picking up pieces of trees, sweat pouring down their face and their eyes squinting.

The next day I saw my grandmother's house and words can't even describe how horrible her yard looked. Now remember, I'm saying how terrible it is and I didn't even have time to see the worst part of the county. It's terrible... Humbling, frightening and personal in an impartial way. Irene didn't care who she fucked up, she just did what she was built for, large gusts of wind in a circular motion until something in the climate/landfall/cold front either made it change direction or dissipate. The whole community is coming together. People would drive past my grandma's house and txt or call my sister or mom and offer to come over and help with clean up. (Yes, it was that bad) There is a man from down the street from my grandma that keeps breaking his tractor trying to help us with clean up. Today he got a screwdriver in his tire. No blame, no anger, just "I'ma fix it and be back tomorrow" and he then shows up, ready to go.

This was exactly what I needed, I'm just sad for the reasons I was needed back home but they have proven to be fruitful. My family and I have been on edge since... well, I was 12 years old. The catalyst was when I came out of the closet at 21. My family and I have been on eggshells ever since. Each visit was spent with polite conversation and me just listening to their current events and them never asking me anything about my life. I'd go home feeling jipped and jaded. Maybe it's because this visit the focus was on a common goal? I'm unsure, but this visit was the first visit I've ever felt a part of the family, not just an alien visitor. It was delightful.

I came home late yesterday afternoon and had to call out of work because traffic was just horrid through Raleigh (as always, I hate that place) and I had spent a bit too long in Wilmington working out some brainstorming ideas with some really awesome chicks that help run Homoground. I'm so honored to be apart of the group and support such an adventurous idea. The chick that runs it is truly amazing to have put this all together basically alone and make it happen. I'm hoping that my radio insight and my obsession with writing everything down keeps me in the position of always being able to be apart of this project.

Suddenly I've gotten entirely too ADD to finish this post... 

So sorry.

The Clean-Up

I arrived in my hometown at 3am yesterday morning, woke up around 7:30am and worked in my mom's yard until around 7pm. There is still a HUGE tree down in the backyard, but it's tucked behind the barn and isn't so bad. My uncle and cousin came out to help with the clean up. We hauled large limbs with rope and the fourwheeler. It was hardwork but still a lot of fun. We talked, joked and all got sunburnt together. I have cuts and scrapes all over.

That night we fired up the grill and had about a dozen people milling around the house, my mom is the only on in the extended family that still has power. My dad's mom had 4ft of flooding on her lower level where his sister was staying. (My aunt lost everything) They showed up to get some food and take a shower. The pained expressions on their faces was deeply creased in and you could tell they were distracted by what was waiting at home for them once they left my mother's powered, well-fed home.

The feast was supplied by the contents of my sister's fridge and freezer that is slowly going bad in coolers on the patio. My mom's fridge is stuffed to the brim, trying to save anything we can. I'm so well fed I can barely move. Out of the 3 different meat versions of burgers, chicken breasts and a rather large pork loin we grilled there was only one burger and a couple slices of pork loin left. Everyone was grateful for the opportunity to chow down in an air conditioned enviroment and my sister was happy that the food didn't end up in the trash. The local fire dept is giving away bags of ice and bottled water. We're using bottled water to make coffee, freezing them to keep the food in the cooler from spoiling and drinking them with gusto as we haul peices of nature out of our way.

I saw my mom mom's house for the first time today. It is devastating and she still has her house. So many have lost much more than she has, and it's still very painful to see. My grandmother has lost a barn and a couple 100yro+ trees... but we're all very grateful they fell away from the house and no one was hurt. I've only been as far as my parent's house and this entire neighborhood is trashed, there is a tree in someone's house 3 doors down, there are trees cut in the middle so you can travel on the road. There is a tree against the church I grew up in and downed powerlines everywhere. There is a group of five electrical vehicles going around working as a really large group to pushed erect the leaning powerlines and reconnect/mend the fallen lines.

My middle school is closed. Done. Finished. The flooding was too bad, they are saying if it does open it may be well after christmas due to repairs and replacing the floors and walls. It has to be gutted. (Everyone is 80% sure it will be condemned and have to be knocked over) Teachers are being shifted or losing their positions, they are splitting up the grades amongst the primary, highschool and elementry school buildings. There is absolutely no school for anyone until next tuesday. In the district I went to school in there are people who now have foundations of their houses and nothing else. They lost more than the contents of their fridge and a couple trees, they lost everything they've ever worked for.

Like I said, I have not gone that far in the county but just seeing my childhood neighborhood gives me an idea of how terrible it is farther down in the county. We've pulled together as a family and a community. My uncle who helped us clear my mom's yard up is being pulled in so many directions and is trying to handle the guilt of not being able to help everyone who asks him. His sidejob is lawncare and right now everyone wants his attention whenever possible. As we stood in my grandmother's yard, jagged tree limbs towering over us he spoke of feeling the weight of not being able to help everyone who has been asking him... he felt like he wasn't helping anyone at all. He didn't count cleaning up the yards of his family as help... that was just a given. Being able to clean up other people's yards, that was helping.

I know that deeper in the county will be a slow recovery but they will recover. I feel for them and hope them the best.... I also wish I had more than just words of encouragement for all of them.

After the storm

I've had too much coffee, too much sleep, and never enough food. I'm shaking, my heart feels like it's trying to escape via my throat and all I'm doing is dancing in place to keep everything in check.

Irene came and went quite peacefully in my part of North Carolina. The wind blew in circles and pissed the trees off that hang over my balcony. The night of the hurricane was quite amazing for me... I sat on my balcony for most of the night having very good conversation with very good company. Needless to say that while I was having the most amazing night of my life my family was being pummeled by mother nature as Irene tossed trees around like an angry toddler.

Cell phone service cut out. Power was lost. Even internet shut off. Trees falling around my parent's house, my grandmother's house and my sister's house. The wind blew sideways and the rain flew around like angry darts. "This has been the worst hurricane I've ever experienced" said my mother, who has never strayed too far from her mother's house about 2 miles down. I missed it. Thankfully, but regrettably as well. My grandmother banked on the idea of some undesirables spending time with her through the hurricane... of course they flaked. As trees lay inches away from the house, my uncle and cousin rescued her and brought her to my mother's house so she wouldn't have to spend the rest of the hurricane alone. Thankfully no one was hurt in this effort.

I've seen pictures of my favorite park in my hometown under more than 13ft of a swollen Neuse River and rain. Facebook feeds filled with "Evacuating west, pray for my family" and pictures of fallen trees over the road, squished cars and large bodies of water that aren't meant to be. Disaster, devastation... stories of people swimming to the post office begging for rides to safety...

I come from a town that thrives in hurricanes because it's the most excitement all year... but after Katrina something changed. I was actually dating someone during Katrina and they lived farther inlet than I. Their entire house was flooded, lifting the house off the of its foundation, floating a couple inches above the concrete structure... then slammed the house down, cracking both structures in half. It felt like I was walking through a movie scene. Soggy carpets, we tried for 3hrs to get to that house, so many flooded roads we couldn't get through... passing people on canoes, paddling away, on or in the road. Katrina was one of the worse storms I've experienced and my mother said Katrina was just childs play compared to Irene. Now, when a hurricane comes people evacuate like they're told, buy out Food Lion and get their radios ready.

My middle school and high school have been flooded. My middle school has been flooded before, 6ft during Katrina, I can only image how deep Irene took it swimming. I've had to stop looking for information on the angry left overs of Irene. It makes me cry. I see pictures of places I've frequented for most of my 24yrs totally under water, covered in trees or otherwise disrupted. The local Harris Teeters are giving away ice and water while their stores are closed. If you have twitter, visit the hastag #NCIrene for personal accounts, to-the-second updates, pictures and other things that have made me cry in the last 24hrs. There are also facebook groups you can be a part of for more information about how to get help or just to share your stories of survival.

What most people aren't realizing is how bad the bugs are. That's something the news doesn't really touch on. They talk about the clean up, they show these terrible pictures... but they don't show how nasty and thick the bugs are right now. My entire childhood neighborhood and surrounding areas are, quite literally, a temporary marshland right now. It's perfect for mosquitoes and other nasties. The CDC has a page of information about how you should go about protecting yourself after a natural disaster and what to notice with certain bites.

Don't be afraid to ask for help... everyone needs it right now. Also, don't be afraid TO help. Being there for each other is what community is all about.

Please click the links, I hope they prove to be helpful in some way!

xoxo,
SallyD

The Silence

I gave you poetry in theory earlier... and now I'm giving you actual poetry. Now, I haven't written a poem in quite some time since high school... but a few months ago I produced this. I was at work and something in me made me write this down. I only shared it with two other people and now it's your turn. I thought I had trashed it but it was neatly tucked in between some World of Warcraft boxes... go figure? It doesn't actually have a title as I didn't expect to have enough balls to share it with you guys. Tell me what you think... or don't.

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The silence is ever creeping

Creeping in the ever ending

The realm of no prevail

A square world amongst round

Round ideas, round aspirations

Dancing is all that's left in the mind of an artist

The eye of the creator is prismatic

Dreams one with wonder

And two with pain

The silence is ever creeping

Creeping in the ever ending

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So there ya go... you've now experienced something I would've otherwise kept hidden. Does that mean I'm growing as an artist? Well, I'd like to think that... so I will.

Peace,

SallyD

ps- I paired the poem with a picture I took of Fort Macon a long while ago.... although they weren't really were inspired by each other.

Owie, my muscles hurt.

I went to the gym today for the first time in weeks. It was like reconnecting with an old friend. I tried to do as much as possible that I don't do at home. My arms ache and my butt muscles aren't so happy... but I feel delightful. I've been such a complaint-filled bitch lately and I hate myself for it. I mean, really, there are better words spent via txt. So, I'm sorry. Bitching and moaning should be for this blog, and this blog only.

I went to Earth Fare today and got some yummy Broccoli and Cranberry salad. It was the best dessert ever to go with my Mediterranean sampler thingy that was sooo big I couldn't finish. I'm on a humus kick. I wanna eat it all up. Ooo, yum. Falafal always helps too. Now I'm so stuffed I can barely move.

Monday is my only day off... at least it's in the middle of my work week, I guess? Silver lining, anyone? I will probably stay at home and catch up on all my TV Shows... I have too many of them and I feel like it's consuming my life. My last few days off have been spent getting really, really drunk and I need to take a break on that. I mean, it's all good and stuff because it's with this really amazing friend of mine.... but I need to chill out on that shit. It's ridiculous. 

Oooo! Ooo! Ooo! I have, in my possession, train tickets to Chicago, IL. Hooray! It will also be my first time on a train. I can't wait. I leave the 5th of October and don't get back to NC until 1am on October 11th. I better get that time off of work because well, I'm going either way. I have given them plenty of notice. I just hope to keep my job until then. They are driving me batshit crazy. But either way... tickets are bought, I'm going. I'm uber fantastically happy about it. My friend Sarah lives out there and she is always a good time. I also have the possibility of something else mighty great while I'm there... but we will see if I don't fuck it up before it even gets off the ground. I fear I may have already planted the seed of failure. I can't keep a fucking daisy alive but I can plant some discomfort like a motherfucker. (Go Figure)

Well, anyway... this is a quick blog because I need to shower before work and my time is running thin. I just wanted to tell you a few exciting things that are happening in my life. Also, this is my first month not making a car payment! I feel like I have so much money I don't know what to do with it.... but I still can't manage to pay ALL of my bills this month... O well, those tickets to Chicago are more important than Bank of America. (Bank of America can suck my dick)

Maybe I will write something pretty later, who knows? I'm taking a notebook to work tonight... if they tell me I can't write while on the clock I may lose my shit.

kthnxbai

Flash Backs

There are many moments I go over in my head... over and over and over... I replay and pause and slow down, I analyze and try to remember every single word that was spoken. Evey mouth movement and memorize how lips formed certain words, hand gestured that molded the moment... everything.

Oddly enough, as of late, I have been replaying a moment in my lifetime that seems quite... well... not one I'm proud of.

The year was 2009? I'm guesstimating... I'm horrible at time recollection.

Well, I'm having a sit down with my then-boss. I was working for a broadcasting company (aka: an oldies station. I produced the morning show and hated the material but loved the work environment... sans my PD). The day previous I had forgotten to switch a switch or pull a lever; the bullshit they paid me for, basically. The station had been dead-air for 12hrs or so (even before anyone noticed... HELLOOOOO, no one was listening anyway.) and I was to be dealt with.

We stare at each other. We both know what's coming. I expected to be fired and was looking for the relief. No one was available to do my shift, I hoped he would get stuck with it. I hated him in a fiery passion. When I talked about him I talked like a feminist because he was such a chauvinistic pig. He openly protested against women being in the office and made a point to stick me as a receptionist after my original 5am-11am shift (sometimes making me work 13hr shifts) because they refused to hire a new one... the previous one was also African-American and he openly had distaste for that double-whammy in the office. So let's just say I wouldn't be sad about being fired. I just hated that he'd take so much pleasure in it.

"You know why I called you in here" he says. I nod. "You're aware of the major neglect that you had." I nod, trying to look sad. I was in-fact disappointed at my neglect. In all truth-- I had fucked up. "You could be fired over this." He continues, with a smug look on his face. "But instead, we're just going to suspend you for two weeks, with no pay." I nod again, looking him in the eye, hoping he'd stop talking soon so I could go home and get a much needed nap. "Have you got anything to say for yourself?"

I took a deep breath, "I fucked up. I know I did. I'm grateful for the second chance and I will take my two weeks." I totally needed a vacation, I was excited to get two weeks without waking up at 4am and lumbering into work with one eye open. I yearned for the day I could sleep in until noon and lounge around and do nothing. I lived with my parents at the time and could survive two weeks without a paycheck, no big deal.

He stared at me, whatever I had said had really pissed him off. How dare I take my punishment with poise and respect for both parties involved? He wanted me to suffer.... so he prodded me, "Do you even want this job?"

No, I didn't. "Yes I do." I said, "Music is a passion of mine, I've worked in this building going on three years now. I'm glad you guys hired me after I moved back into town and found the building under new management. I will do whatever it takes to make it in this business."

Again, strain, anger and his smug look was now gone, so again... with the prodding, "It's so hard to read you. You have such a relaxed view on life sometimes it's hard to tell if you even give a shit about this company. You just do what you're told and go home. We need someone here that's going to go an extra mile, someone that is going to be innovative to the company. Someone who is going to push the limits and do whatever it takes to help this company along. Can you do that?"

Okay... first off, I was waking my non-morning-loving-ass up at 4 fucking a-m for his women-hating republican ass, many times not leaving until sometimes 7 or 8pm because I had started loading commercials and helping imaging with voices for commercials and sweepers and whatever the fuck else. I was going on remotes without getting paid ON TOP OF me sucking up his outwardly condescending attitude towards any vagina in the office. What else did he want me to do?

I bit my lip and raised my voice only slightly, "Am I fired? Because if not I'd really rather just leave right now and come back when my two weeks is up. I load commercials, I do what you want me to do and every time I try my best to get an on-air shift you tell me I won't be able to move the mouse around fast enough. I don't know what else you want me to do! If you will tell me what the 'extra mile' is, I will do it. Until then, I can't read minds. I'm also very sorry for fucking up. I'm aware I did something wrong so I'm taking the punishment. You want me to yell? You want me to get angry? I'm sorry, but that just doesn't seem right. I did something wrong so I'm taking the punishment, simple as that. I do what I'm told and go home because that's all I know. It's impossible to learn something if no one is willing to be a teacher... and when I do find a teacher you tell me no. It seems to me that you're the only one holding me back, not myself. Now... am I fired?"

"No, you're not fired." He said looking up to me, because I had stood up to say what I wanted to say.

"See you in two weeks."

I slammed the door and left. Five days later I get a call and a lecture. My PD wanted me back but on a trial period. I knew no one was able to work my shift and take up my slack. I knew he wouldn't last a full seven days without me. I ended up getting fired later that year because I misread my schedule (that they so often changed without mentioning to me) and missed a shift completely. I was sad, but only because I was going to be missing a pay check. He got fired a year or two later for "running the company into the ground."

Small victories.

I'm not exactly sure why I keep reliving that moment in my life, but a smile comes across my face every time I recall it.

I was being punished, rightfully so, yet I still didn't give him the gratification of me crying or tearing myself down... don't let people get the best of you. It's a waste of everyone's time... and I'm sure the person trying to tear you down needs the reality check.

Blessed Be,

SallyD

Break-Ups

I strongly feel that the universe sends signals.

Recently I seem to have been over-exposed to people very, very broken after a break-up.

Now, I realize that everyone handles breakups quite differently. Not everyone cries, not everyone is heart-wrenchingly upset. Not everyone finds it debilitating after someone leaves them out of personal choice-- rather than death.

The few break-up stories I have been exposed to recently (all on podcasts, btw) the person is borderline sobbing and could easily be misunderstood as someone who has recently had someone die. These people have been grieving the death of a relationship for the better of a year (or more) and the tears roll down their faces like the funeral was yesterday-- not full calender months ago.

I am truly take aback and puzzled at this. Yes, I've had really bad breakups. Yes, from previous posts you can see that I am still hanging on to someone from (kind of) more than a year ago... but I don't break down in tears when someone mentions her name or sob uncontrollably at the thought of her with someone else. I do recall being inconsolable for a certain amount of weeks and sobbing for hours to the songs, "Wait it out" by Imogen Heap & "Call it Off" by Tegan & Sara... and after throwing myself into a (horrible) rebound relationship with someone quite terrible I found myself retreating across city lines trying to escape from her. (and it still not being enough)

As I listened to 3 separate podcasts express ideas, stories and songs about being broken up with I tried to remember being that emotional about someone else. I tried to muster up that type of pain deep inside of me. 

I got nothing.

The jury is still out on the cause of this lapse in memory but I assure you that I've been quite sad before. In middle school I was burdened with being 'the weirdo' and 'the bitch'. I was mistreated at home so I would go to school and take it out on my only friend. (That friend has since never truly, in her heart, forgiven me for how I treated her, even after much apologizing and it being over 10yrs ago... but I can't really blame her) I remember praying to whom-ever could hear my cries to just take the oxygen from my lungs and let me die so then maybe someone would at least pretend to have loved me. I was so very sad-- but that never seemed to involve someone else. I always figured they justifiably didn't want me. (I guess that still lingers a bit today)

Have I avoided being hurt (honestly hurt) by someone by my own depression? I would also like to point out that I am terrified at the thought of a 'forever' with someone else. It seems like an alien idea. I say this and then remember the jealousy I have over the coupled people who live together and seem to be in that 'forever' situation. I've always been a 'for right now' type of gal. The one (legit) time I saw myself in a forever situation I got dumped for a curious-but-straight bimbo... so let's just say the feeling comes and leaves in the same second.

I've been reallyreally upset about a girl not wanting me or giving me the run-around and songs that remind me of them. I've lost friends to death or decision and they seem to impact my heart strings quite a bit... but the ones who have died always get the tears as oppose to just the 'I miss them' feeling.

Maybe it's because I have had so many people close to me leave me by death. Those that leave by decision always have hope left and when there is hope there is healing. I can never have another conversation with my deceased friends to end our radio silence. I can never mend what was broken--- But my alive friends: I can email, facebook, tweet, phone call and txt my way back into their good graces. (Or at least attempt to) So being abandoned by decision just feels open-ended. Anything can happen. They are still alive and maybe think of me sometimes, even miss me on occasion-- this goes for exes as well. To mourn the loss of a relationship like the opposing person is dead just seems a bit silly to me. I reserve my ultimate sadness and regret for a situation that is the only 'forever' situation I can seem to see myself in-- death; the deceased.

Then, here comes my next revelation-- Those who thrive in sadness.

Such beauty has come from individuals bitten by the sorrow bug. Some of the greatest songs ever sung would have never come to pass if they had not relished in the feeling of woe. They held hands with sadness and sang it a lullaby. They sobbed over canvas and their fingers bled as they formed the right notes, the right paint, the right instrument to express the hurt, love and longing. Long elaborate poems and plays were written in the search of closure from the pain and anguish from a lost loved one. (decision or death) These beings got comfortable with their pain and made a home in it, enjoying the feeling. They believed that no one else would bring them such joy (or sadness) like those whom have left them.

Love and pain are so passionate and so close in relation. They are brother and sister, as both are very different but came from the same beginning. Its for you to decide which is more unhealthy or unstable. Which is worth the risk. Break-ups suck, being turned down isn't fun.... But finding someone worth feeling for can be a rare but beautiful thing.

I say embrace what makes you satisfied-- whether it be tears or affection.

xoxo,

SallyD