Meme a Little Meme

Just so you know Digger Jones apparently has a bit of a mean streak, a yen for revenge. Yes, just because I tagged him for a meme he felt the need for payback and do likewise. Ha, ha. That'll teach me won't it?

Anyway, on to the meme:

Answer the following, and be sure to link to their blogs. This is an efficient and cheap and shameless way to increase traffic.

1. Blogger who is most like me:
Oh boy, this is a tough one. Obviously, nobody is exactly like me although I probably see a lot of myself in Freebird although I sometimes see myself more in her Mr. E from some of his actions, but I aspire to be as brave as she is.

2. Blogger I read who is LEAST like me.
Gotta be FTN. First, he's a man so right there we're opposites. But also, he is a faithful spouse, a fine temperate man who chooses not to indulge in porn and masturbation. Yeah, he's about as opposite of me as you can get.

3. Name 3 bloggers of the same sex you’d like to have drinks with.
Okay, the hardest part of this is to limit it just to three because there are at least a dozen with whom I'd like to have drinks. If I limit it to those on the same continent with me so it is somewhat more likely to happen someday I'll choose
(1) Stinkypaw because she was the first to comment on this blog and has a great moral compass,
(2) Serenity because I know I could count on her to play devil's advocate during the discussion, and
(3) Unspoken Drama because she understands where I am, and I understand where she is, and we could cry on each other's shoulders after we've had a drink or two too many.

4. Name 3 bloggers of the opposite sex you’d like to share a hot tub with.
This one is much easier:
(1) BJ. Okay, you had to see that one coming, right?
(2) Al Laddin because he is just so darned much fun to flirt with I'd love to have the chance to flirt in person.
(3) Joe Flirt because he needs to have a bit of fun in his life.
Can't say just what would happen in that hot tub, or even if we'd manage to contain ourselves to just the hot tub, but I'm feeling all hot and steamy just thinking of the possibilities.

5. Which blogger would you vote for in a political campaign?
This is a tough one. I have pretty particular tastes when it comes to politicians, but I have to say if Emily were running in an election in my jurisdiction I'd vote for her. She is very thoughtful in her approach to things, not prone to kneejerk reactions nor do I think she would be persuaded to vote against her convictions on issues.

6. You are thrown into a dimension where you can read one, and only one, blog. Which one is it?
Oh dear. This is the toughest question of all for me. I couldn't possibly give up any of my regular reads! I'd die! I'd just wither up and dry out and die. Sigh. . . Oh well, if I really had to pick just one it would be Finished Last for a couple of reasons. He's a good writer, he's drawn me in to the story of his life, and I really need to know how it turns out (I'm hoping for the happy ending that I always hope for in life as well as in my reading), and he and I have become email friends so I care even more about how he's doing.

7. Which blogger is living a life you think YOU might like to be living.
Not sure since in spite of the ups and downs and all it's flaws I'm liking my own life thank-you-very-much. However, I might like to be living Fiona's life. She seems to have it all together.

Tag three people and you’re on your way!
Hmm, three victims people to tag.
Let's see.
Okay here goes.
I'm picking bloggers who haven't blogged a lot lately in the hopes that this meme will kickstart them. ;-)
(1) Andy,
(2) Desperate Husband
(3) Aphron

Auspicious Date

Today is quite the day. August 16. Many reflections on this day.

Julie Newmar (catwoman in the Batman TV series) – turns 72 today. I loved the Batman TV series when I was just a pup. Wouldn’t miss it. My favorite parts? Where either innocent victims or Batman and/or Robin would be tied up and “tortured.” I was kinky even as a tot.

Madonna – turns 49 today. She’s a bit older than me, a bit more famous and loads weirder. I like her.






Elvis – died on this date some 30 years ago. I was upstairs in the hallway headed to the bathroom when I heard of it on my transistor radio that I carried everywhere with me in junior high and high school. My reaction was “So what? He’s an old fat has-been.” Now I’m a few years older and many pounds heavier than he was when he died. Hmm.

What can I say? These are just the ruminations of an oxygen-deprived asthmatic suffering from a chest cold. Excuse me while I go try to cough up some more green phlegm. . . hopefully without peeing my pants. . .

Music to Convalesce by

Closed Due to Illness

Nothing major, but I have no energy whatsoever to devote to this for the next few days. I'll know I'm feeling better when I feel up to blogging again!

Accountants Gone Wild

What? You didn't know that accountants had a wild side? Oh yeah baby. We are wild and crazy.

First a little tax rap:


Next, a "news story" documenting the dangers of rogue accountants:


And finally, you know this will be a blocbuster movie:


Now if those videos didn't convince you that we accountants are wild, happenin' folks, then there's just no hope for you. None at all.

Just Another Day

PART I - The Morning
Just floundering here. Nothing new to report. Nothing new happening in Trueself’s world. All continues status quo. Life sucks. I continue to overthink every little thing. I continue to struggle with the phone phobia.

How I hate when I finally work up the courage to do a little thing like calling a hair salon for an appointment, making sure to call during their open hours, only to be told by their standard closed hours voicemail message that only cancellations can be left on voicemail and please call back during their business hours. Great. Thank you. For nothing. Now I don’t even know how a “normal” person responds to this situation. Keep calling back in hopes you’ll get a real person? Well, sure, I could do that except that it takes me literally hours to get myself built up to a place where I can make that call, and once flustered by a nonsensical result it takes some more time to get back to that place where I can make that call again. Actually, I could almost do it right away easier than waiting until later, but I’m afraid turning around and calling back right away would just garner the same result.

So now here are all the thoughts and questions running through my mind (remember I overthink everything):
• I hate them for not answering the phone.
• Now I want to just give it up and go somewhere else.
• I can’t give up and go somewhere else because last night I promised a hair stylist that I met that I would make an appointment with her.
• Why did they have that stupid “business closed” voicemail message when I called? I specifically waited more than an hour after their stated opening time to call just to avoid crap like that.
• What do I say when I call? I’ve practiced several scripts in my head. They all make me sound like a complete dork. Maybe because I am a complete dork.
• Why couldn’t they just answer the damn phone when I called?
• If I don’t make that appointment I’ll never be able to go back to a certain group where I met this hair stylist.
• I am wasting way to much time stewing over this.
• Can I call back yet? Is it too soon?
• Will their phone show my number on their caller ID display leading them to (God forbid) call me back?
• The whole mess just makes me want to cry.

Okay, there’s more, but you get the picture. All of these thoughts just rolling through my lil’ ole’ brain, not just once, but over and over and over. It becomes so consuming I have trouble concentrating on work. Then again, I worry that if I put it out of my head to concentrate on work I never will make that call. And I need to make that call. If you were to see my hair now you’d understand. . . really.

PART II - The Afternoon
So at 3:30 p.m. I finally got the gumption (5 hours after my first failed attempt) to call the hair salon again. This time, lo and behold, I got a real live person. . . and she was nice to me. . . and she set up an appointment for me for this Saturday. . . and everything went just fine. . . and I only sounded like a dork once, when I mispronounced the name of the stylist I want to see. I knew that was going to happen. We have only met online so I’d only seen her name not heard it before. That bugs me because I hate HATE HATE when people mispronounce my name (which is why I don’t go by my unpronounceable formal name). I could just kick myself. Oh well, one instance of dorkiness isn’t all that bad I guess. I lived through it. At least when I go to the appointment on Saturday I won’t mispronounce it to her face. I now know it’s an “aw” sound not a short a sound like I had guessed, and unlike some who meet me and consistently mispronounce my name I will take care to pronounce hers the proper way from here on out.

Well, it only took living here a bit over six months for me to finally call a hair salon for an appointment. Wonder how much longer before I can make that call to get the brakes on my car serviced? Will it be before they fail completely and send me careening across the flat plains of the Midwest with nothing to stop me but the occasional collapsed bridge? Let’s hope.

Yep! That's Me. . .

and it's probably way more than you wanted to know about me.

I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm a Bottom!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now.

The Bottom is happiest sexually when being told what to do. Abandonment of mind and body is what The Bottom believes will push them toward real sexual fulfillment. They seek to prove their commitment to their lovers, often testing their own boundaries to their limits (and beyond). Enduring physical pain to prove how total their dedication is to themselves and their partners is not at all unusual. In fact, it is standard for many. The Bottom functions on a highly emotional level, closely linking the physical with the spiritual and intellectual. Therefore, sex for The Bottom is an all-consuming experience and not undertaken lightly, especially if they are serving more than one Top.

Stressed

I have been stressing all morning. I have been stressing out over couple’s counseling. I was thinking it was tonight. Ha! The joke’s on me. It isn’t until Thursday night. We had to reschedule because I have another commitment tonight, a meeting of a civic organization that I’m joining.

Why does couple’s counseling stress me so? Only because I approach every week nervous and afraid that I will not speak the truth. . . or that I will speak the truth. Either way I’m screwed. If I don’t speak the truth then I continue to be caught in this trap prison pit of despair marriage. If I do speak the truth then I will set into motion a fearful journey into the unknown, into self-reliance. Sometimes I think I could be self-reliant. Other times I am quite convinced I could not be.

Okay, it all comes down to this. My phone phobia and overwhelming shyness is getting in the way of me being the self-reliant person I want to be. I keep hedging this thing because I rely on W to take care of things that I won’t can’t handle due to my social anxiety and fear. Okay, there it is in a nutshell. That’s the big stumbling block. I admit it. Crap. I don’t know how to overcome it. I’ve tried many times in my life, and then when the pressure starts to get too overwhelming I retreat back into myself, more a recluse than before. I feel that pressure building and the temptation for retreat is great, very great, at this time. Part of me wants the pressure released so that I can continue to function. Part of me doesn’t because I want something to force me to become that self-reliant person I need to be. So I won’t ask anyone to relieve that pressure, and I just hope and pray that I can find a way to work through it instead of turning tail and running from it.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.

Weak or Not?

Is it a weakness to want a friend with me, someone who would back me up, when I tell W that it really is honest-to-goodness over?

I know I need to be strong and stand on my own two feet.

It isn't as though I think he would get violent. That just is not, and never has been, his style. I just feel like I'll back down. . . again. . . when he starts with all the reasons we should stay together.

Am I too hard on myself for thinking it's a weakness to need support? Or too easy on myself for trying to justify my not being able to do this by myself?

Then again, I don't have any friends in real life that I could ask to serve in that capacity so I guess it's really all a moot point anyway. Somehow I'm going to have to find a way to stand tall and do this all by myself.

-------------------------------------------------------
LATE EDIT:

So I just had flowers, a truly beautiful bouquet, delivered to me at the office. When the receptionist called to tell me I had them I was stunned. Who would've sent me flowers? It ain't my birthday or any other special occasion. Then I kind of chuckled to myself as I head to reception to pick them up wondering how many other people would have as many people as possibilities for having sent the flowers. Was it BJ or W or one of the women I met on Saturday that may have taken a fancy to me? I saw that my name as written on the outside of the envelope was my formal name, the name I don't use, so then my thought became "Why did my parents send me flowers?!?" I opened the card to find that the flowers were from . . .





















W.

Ugh. Of all the people that could have sent them, he was the last person in the world I wanted to receive flowers from. If they weren't so damned perfectly beautiful I'd throw them away, or give them to somebody else.

Meme for a Lazy Sunday

Bunny tagged me for this meme so since I don't have a lot else I want to say today I might just as well get on with it, eh?

It’s very simple. When this is passed on to you, copy the whole thing, skim the list and put a * star beside those that you like. (Check out especially the * starred ones.)Add the next number (1. 2. 3. 4. 5., etc.) and write your own blogging tip for other bloggers. Try to make your tip general. After that, tag 10 other people. Link love some friends! Just think– if 10 people start this, the 10 people pass it onto another 10 people, you have 100 links already!

1. Look, read, and learn. *****-http://www.neonscent.com/
2. Be, EXCELLENT to each other. *****-http://www.bushmackel.com/
3. Don’t let money change ya! ****-http://www.therandomforest.info/
4. Always reply to your comments.**-http://chattiekat.com/
5. Develop your own "voice" don't "borrow" someone else's***-Mizmouthy
6. Always avoid awesomely annoying and aggravating alliteration. Bunny
7. Write for yourself not for your audience. Trueself

I'm not going to tag, but I will invite the following bloggers to participate in this if they so choose: BJ , Al, Fiona, Freebird, Serenity, Mia, Digger, Cat, All of Her Secrets, and Val
If you aren't listed here it isn't that I don't love and value you for I love and value each and every one of my readers. I just tried to pick people I thought wouldn't mind me picking on them and/or I thought they would have something good to add to the list.

What a Day

It's really been a day in three parts:

PART I
This morning I read BJ's post from last night. It brought tears to my eyes when I read it. I felt absolutely awful that he was down and lonely and alone. If only I weren't hundreds of miles away things would be so very different. Fortunately he and I were able to talk, first via IM, then on the phone. We had what I think were some really good, really important discussions. When it comes right down to it other than N BJ is the most important person in my life, and I told him so today. It's probably not the first time I've said it, but he really needed to hear it today. Also, I told him that if he really needs me to be with him this weekend I would drive up to see him today and take whatever consequences come from it. I knew that what that would mean would be telling W the truth about me and BJ, and I do worry what that would do in terms of custody fights between W and me. Fortunately, as we talked BJ and I both came to our senses, realized that we are on the right path right now and don't need to do anything impetuous. We both felt better after we talked I think. I know he sounded like he was in a better place.

PART II
The reason I had time to talk to BJ for a while was that I had something of a drive to and from my meeting today with other bi women from the area. It was a great experience. Only five of us attended. We had a good time and are looking forward to expanding the group. We introduced ourselves to one another, and as part of our introductions we included whether we have a significant other, whether they are supportive of our sexuality, when we realized we were bi, whether we had explored our bi sides, and whether or not we are out. Even with just five of us there we ran the gamut of totally out to not out, experienced to no experience, in open to closed relationships. We were a diverse group. Interestingly enough, all five of us are married. I am the least "out" of the group. The only people that know that I'm bi that are currently in my life are online friends/acquaintances except for W and BJ who both know. They are the only ones IRL who know. The only others who have ever known were people with whom I had bi relationships or with whom I at least considered having a bi relationship. None of my family members know nor would they understand. It was an interesting discussion we had finding many common issues and feelings. It was great too talk in a group where we could be completely open about a part of our lives that in many situations is not an "acceptable" topic. What a great way to spend an afternoon! By the time we left we had our next two get togethers tentatively planned. We are going to be getting together monthly so one of the participant's husbands has already called it the "bi monthly meeting." Cool.

PART III
After I returned home, W and I had the most interesting discussion that we've had in ages. He wanted to know all about the meeting and whether I enjoyed it. I told him some basic info about the afternoon. He could see that I was very happy with how it had gone. The conversation took a completely and totally unexpected turn when W shared that we would have no problem if I had a girlfriend on the side. He is completely against me having a boyfriend on the side, but a girlfriend is perfectly okay. He doesn't desire any participation with me and this hypothetical girlfriend. So I guess he's come around to figuring if I need sex and intimacy I can use my bi side to get it as long as I don't replace him entirely. He doesn't feel threatened by women in the same way that he would with another man. This attitude took me so fully by surprise. It is quite a shift from past attitudes. He's always been all about if we were going to swing we were going to do it together. Then we had that aborted attempt at a don't ask, don't tell policy which we really still have, sort of, but he keeps such close watch on me that it is very difficult to have anything on the side (though I do manage). Now he's saying sure, go play with other women, no problem, be open about it, just no men. Does he really mean this, or is he just trying to make it more difficult for me to leave by loosening up on me? I don't know. I do know it is increasing the guilt that I feel for not wanting to be with him anymore. He is bending over so far backwards in his own way to try to keep me here. It is obvious to me that he does indeed want me to stay. However, I still want out. I want out of this marriage. I must tell him that soon. I can't continue to allow him to work so hard at making things better when I know deep down that it is at this point too little too late, that I am not going to be happy within this marriage. I need to be honest with him about that.

Wow! 100% Hot!

You scored as Hot, You are Hot, you scream and are wild, people love doing anything sexual with you. Hot 100% Violent 63% Wet 56% Exciting 56% Sweet 44% Shy 38% Soft 38% Awkward 13% What is your sexual style? created with QuizFarm.com

Now you know what keeps BJ around. It's the hot, violent, wet, exciting sex.

Trying Times

Trying to fight something inside myself.
Trying to make myself okay with things that right now I'm not okay with.
Trying to not feel disconnected.
Trying to reconcile conflicting ideas in my head.
Trying to learn to accept people for who they are not who I want them to be.
Trying to not demand too much.
Trying to be more open to not being completely open.
Trying to figure out how much is too much to hide, how much is too much too share.
Trying to become who I genuinely am.
Trying to figure out if who I genuinely am is going to be okay with the rest of the world.
Trying to not care what the rest of the world thinks.
Trying to decide for myself right and wrong and their origins.
Trying to find where to turn for advice, insight, friendship, assistance.
Trying to decide if it is worth the effort to try so hard.

Then again, as Yoda said:
Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.

John Kerry's Got Nothing on Me

I speak of waffling here. Kerry's been accused of it, but he has met his match in me. I am the self-proclaimed Waffle Queen. As such I should probably live here:
rather than where I actually live.

Can I not make a decision on anything? Must I always bounce back and forth, to and fro, until my head and stomach hurts? Is it my perfectionism that is driving me nuts? I keep putting off doing things until I know it is going to turn out just right, but that's not going to happen because this is the REAL WORLD where nothing is a sure thing. There is no absolute way to know if a choice will lead to more joy or regrets. It is impossible to really know how I'll feel 5 or 10 years down the road. Fear of the unknown immobilizes me. The uncertainty leads to indecision which leaves me, and those around me, in limbo.

Main Entry: lim·bo
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural limbos
Etymology: Middle English, from Medieval Latin, abl. of limbus limbo, from Latin, border
Date: 14th century
1 often capitalized : an abode of souls that are according to Roman Catholic theology barred from heaven because of not having received Christian baptism
2 a: a place or state of restraint or confinement b: a place or state of neglect or oblivion c: an intermediate or transitional place or state d: a state of uncertainty

Stupidity

Spending the week acting stupid.

MONDAY -- Threw pouty temper tantrum. Accomplished nothing.

TUESDAY -- Refused to speak truth during couples counseling. Accomplished nothing.

THIS AFTERNOON -- Tried asserting open relationship privileges. Ended up wasting time. Accomplished nothing.

TONIGHT -- Tried not to care that I was ignored. Threw another pouty temper tantrum. Accomplished nothing.

NOW -- Documenting stupid behavior in blog. Accomplishing nothing.

Maybe I better stay home in bed with the covers pulled up around my ears for the rest of the week, just to protect myself from my own stupidity.

Blah.

People Like Me

If you've noticed the countdown I currently have going in my sidebar you'll see that I'm counting down until such time as "Meeting others like me." What on earth could I mean by that?
Women in bad marriages? No.
Women commiting adultery? No.
Fat women? No.
Women with children? No.
Women with bad hair? No.
Women who blog? No.
Women with phone phobia? No.
Women who are bisexual? BINGO!! We have a winner.

If you recallthis post from last fall, I talked (apparently to myself as not one person commented on it) about being bisexual and how hard it is to feel like I fit anywhere. Turns out that there are other bisexual women out there feeling similar feelings as I have, and through the efforts of one of them a social group is forming in my neck of the woods. Notice I said SOCIAL GROUP, not swingers group, not a dating service. No, we are going to get together as a group of people who share a common bond to talk about what it means to us to be who and what we are. It will be a place where we can be open about an aspect of our lives about which we often cannot be open. I think it will be a great thing. I love that I am coming into this group just as it is forming, with our first meeting this Saturday. We've already chatted some on message boards set up by the initiator of this group, and there are some very interesting women on board. I can't wait!

Oh, and one other thing that is especially cool about this is that for the first time I can remember, rather than asking W if I could attend I told him that I was going to be joining this group and attending Saturday's meeting. That may seem like a little thing, but it is a huge step in the direction of me being independent that I didn't wait to see if it would be okay with him before deciding to do something. Ha! I'm almost a real person. One baby step at a time. . .

Interesting

Rocks, Hard Places and Catch 22s

Trapped amongst the rocks, the hard places and squarely in the middle of a Catch 22. That's where you'd find me today. Anybody care to throw me a lifeline?

Time is up

On my six month lease on my rental place that is. I started renting February 1 so tomorrow, July 31, is the end of the lease. I spent a good part of this past weekend emptying it out and will go back and clean it up today so I can get my security deposit back.

I liked having that place. I liked that I had somewhere to go to be all by myself. I liked that BJ had a place to stay when he came to visit me. I hate to let it go. However, I can't hold onto it and spend over $400 a month just to have a place to use on a very occasional basis.

One more chapter closed.

Rant – Part VI

I promise this is the last of it. I can't stand it anymore either so I'm finishing up so we can all move on, so to speak. Come tomorrow I’ll find something less whiney to write, or at least I'll write on a different topic even if it is whiney.

Tuesday morning dawns with me scared shitless nervous about checking on W to see how he’s doing after his falls the night before. After showering and dressing I go check on him to find that he is lying in his bed on his side with his eyes open and his CPAP removed. I ask him how he feels. Sore, but he’d already been up to the bathroom a little earlier and intends to work on getting up soon. I leave for work.

At lunch time I call to check on things. W says he has been up a short time. It’s hard to walk particularly going up and down the stairs. I ask if he’d like me to bring lunch home, and he says yes so I do so. At lunch, W tells me he is calling around to handyman services to see if he can find someone to move the desk top from the truck to the garage. So far he has had no luck finding anyone who can do it on such short notice.

After lunch I return to work and try not to think about the behemoth truck sitting in my driveway. Once my work day is over I head home thinking that I am going to have to find some way of getting that goddamned motherfucking desktop out of the truck all by myself. I haven’t a clue how, but I will try. EXCEPT that I forgot that we have our marital counseling by phone in the evening. Therefore my priority becomes making dinner so we can eat prior to the call. We eat. We call. We talk. We cry. We talk some more. It is after 9:00 p.m. before I even have a chance to think about the desktop or the truck or anything else. I give up and do nothing about it at all.

Wednesday morning W announces that he feels better and that he is going to get that desktop out of the truck all by himself. I go to work and try not to think about what could happen. Sometimes, when you least expect it, things actually go right for a change. Late morning W calls to tell me he has gotten the desktop to the garage safely and without incident. He is about to take the truck back to the rental place. He calls later to let me know that the truck has been returned, and he and N have safely returned home via the local bus system. Hallelujah!

I swear to you at that moment I was ready to sing praises to the heavens that it was all over.

[cue Hallelujah Chorus]

Until I remembered all that junk in the garage. . .
[cue screechy scary music from Psycho]

Rant – Part V

Let’s see. Where were we? Oh yes, Monday evening. I arrive home to find the truck still fully loaded but at least backed into the driveway to begin the unloading process. W and I discuss going out for a quick dinner (due to no grocery shopping since the weekend away) and then returning to unload the truck. I agree to this and go in the house to wait for it to happen. (I learned long ago that when W, or anyone in his family, says they are ready to leave to go do something it will be at the very least another half hour before they are really ready to leave. I have no idea why. I just know that’s the way it is.)

About 20 minutes later, W comes into the house and tells me that he has found a college student willing to help him unload, the father of one of N’s friends. I ask if he would like me to go get takeout for dinner and bring it back to him while he and this guy work on unloading. No, he says he really wanted to go sit down and eat somewhere so he told the guy to come back in an hour. (Oh, can you guess where this is going? Please, please take a guess.) We go to dinner at a fast food place close by and return to the house in about 45 minutes. I asked W if I should change clothes and help with the unloading or if he is good with his student help. He says he’s good with the student help. I go inside relieved that I have been relieved from duty. N goes off to play with friends.

A while later N calls my cell phone and asks if his friend’s dad ever showed up. I tell him I don’t know and that he should call W’s cell phone and ask him. Questions start to float through my mind, but I go back to reading the evening paper trying to not think about it. W wanders through, and I ask him if the guy ever showed up, and he says that he hasn’t. (Is there anyone here who didn't see that coming? Anyone? Anyone?) I tell W I’ll change clothes and be out to help him. He says not to bother, that he can handle it. I doubt very much that this is true but choose not to argue. I roll my eyes after he walks away and return again to my evening paper.

No more than an hour into the project my cell phone rings again. I see from the display that it is W. I answer and hear him weakly say “Help.” I try to ask a few questions, but receive only silence or another weak “help” to each one so I hang up, fold up the paper, get up from my recliner and head out to the driveway. The hand truck he is using is on its side along with a box that had obviously been on it, and just beyond that W is lying on the concrete on his back looking pale. I help him up and get him to a place to sit down in the garage and ask what happened. He was backing down the truck’s ramp with the box on the hand truck when due to its weight it started going too fast, he fell and everything went flying. He claims to be okay, just stunned a bit. I start unloading the truck, barefoot and in my business clothes. I didn’t want to leave him alone even for the time it would take to go in and change. Soon N shows up and wants to know why I am unloading the truck. I explain, and he starts to help. W too joins in as he says he feels better but he is moving slowly. We seem to be making some good progress. Then with my back turned W falls again. This time he says his knee gave out on him, and he just crumpled to the ground. His elbow is scraped, and he has much more difficulty getting up even with my assistance. To get him into the house I stand in front of him and have him put his hands on my shoulders and we “conga line” our way into the house and to a chair where he sits for the remainder of the evening.

N and I finish unloading the truck all except one piece, the top to the computer desk. It is heavy. It is also large and unwieldy. N and I are both tired. I close up the back of the truck and give up for the night. As I close the garage doors I marvel at how we had filled a two-car garage with all our shit crap junk valuable items. N falls asleep easily that night. W takes a shower and goes to bed early. I power up the laptop but fall asleep in the recliner before it ever finishes powering up. I awaken around 1:00 a.m. power down the laptop and collapse into my comfy cozy bed.

Arggh, you’d think this would be over by now, but you would be wrong. We should only have one more installment though. Come back for Part VI and find out if the top of the computer desk was ever removed from the truck and if the truck ever made it back to the rental place. Oh, and let me say for the record, moving sucks.

Thanks Horoscope, I Needed That

Even if you are overly involved with family issues now, you can still take a practical approach to what's going on. Your chosen path may not be the easiest way out, for you are willing to take a stand for what you know to be important. Stick to your plan and things will come around.

Rant – Part IV

Sunday afternoon a little after 3:00 p.m., I finally have N loaded in the car. W has already headed out in the massive rental truck. I drive away from our old neighborhood, get on the freeway, and N announces that he is hungry. Of course. I agree to go through a drive thru and get him something to eat on the road. I make the unforgivable sin of passing the first exit with a McDonald’s at it. There is barely any redemption for me even though two exits later (less than three miles) there is another McDonald’s at which we can purchase the holy grail of junk food – 6 Chicken McNuggets, fries, lots of ketchup, and root beer.

Once his tummy was full, and I put his favorite Keith Urban CD on, N fell fast asleep thanks to a late night at his friend’s house the night before. The rest of the drive was spent in peace, and after a few songs I switched from CD to NPR and happily listened to that for the rest of the trip. I tried to resist the urge, but could not, to scan the roadside for evidence of a crash by a rental truck. No wreckage was ever spotted, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally exited the interstate and headed into town. Perhaps W had made it safely hurtling down the road in a massive truck at speeds of 70 mph or more, unless you are a state trooper reading this in which case no one on this trip ever exceeded the posted speed limit of 65 at any time, really. I breathed an even bigger sigh of relief when I turned the corner onto our street and saw the truck parked at the curb. It didn’t even look any more banged up than when we got it. Whew!

It was now 6:30. I asked W if he wanted to have dinner first or start unloading the truck and have a late dinner. That’s when I learned that he had no intention of unloading on Sunday night but intended to do it on Monday before he returned the truck. Hmm, he intended to unload the truck all by himself while I was at work? This did not sound like a grand plan to me. No, he assured me he was going to find some local college boys to help him and wanted to know if I knew how he might find someone like that? Dumbfounded, I just stood in the driveway staring at him. I hadn’t a clue what to say. At which point he said let’s go to dinner, and we did. After we returned, we unloaded my car and the cooler from the truck, but that was it. I went to bed early. Going to bed early is my equivalent of an ostrich sticking its head in the sand.

Monday I awoke thrilled that I could go back to work, a place where relative calm and sanity reign. I went home at lunch to learn that while no unloading of the truck had taken place, W had spent the morning unsuccessfully trying to locate guys looking to earn a few bucks by unloading the truck. This would’ve been easy when we lived in northern CA. Where we lived there was a corner market where every morning immigrants of dubious legality queued up waiting for someone to drive by needing cheap labor. Apparently, here in Podunk, Midwest a similar corner doesn’t exist, or we just don’t know its location. I returned to work for the afternoon with W’s assurances that even though we would have to keep the truck for an extra day until Tuesday he would start unloading it himself that very afternoon. Did I believe him? Sort of. I took that wait and see attitude, as in “I’ll believe this when I see it for myself.”

When I returned home from work that evening, some progress had indeed been made. The truck had been moved from the curb to the driveway. Oh it was still loaded, still locked tight as a matter of fact, but it was 30 feet closer to the house than it had been earlier. We were making progress.

Wish I could say the same for this story. Looks like we’re into this for Part V, which will hopefully be the last part though given my propensity for dragging out a story perhaps we’ll make it all the way to Part VI. Let’s hope not.

Rant – Part III

This rant is dragging on almost as badly as the weekend did. Ha! Welcome to my world.

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. We made excuses to my parents why we needed to leave early that morning (I couldn’t bring myself to admit to them what a shambles everything is), and again we returned to the dreaded house with the dreaded mess that still needed to be packed and loaded. I had no choice left. The upstairs was pretty well finished except to clean out the refrigerator and load the boxes from the kitchen into the truck. I had to descend into the bowels of hell basement and help with what remained there.

Upon arriving in the basement I took stock of what remained. There were only a few items that remained in the back unfinished area. The two storage closets had been emptied the day before. The office still had two closets with shelves teeming with this, that and assorted other things, a bookcase with more assorted crap items, a CPU, and a few notes and things taped to the wall. The main part of the basement had a shredder, several shelves full of shit whatnot, a printer, two keyboards, another CPU, and three or four half packed boxes. I sighed as I looked around and set to work. I pretty much forced W into my methodical system by continually calling him over to where I was and making him work with me. In this way we got the office completely cleaned out first (including lugging a big old bookcase up the stairs together during which time we were both lucky the other one didn’t get so frustrated and let the other one be killed under the bookcase’s crushing weight), then the back room so that all that was left was the main area.

Oh yes, I almost forgot this part. Sometime during the day W told me he'd packed the shotgun in the back of the truck. I was relieved. It's his gun after all, one that I've asked him numerous times to discard as he doesn't hunt and has no use for it. He is saving it for his son from his first marriage he says. I'd like him to go ahead and give it to his son, but of course W refuses. Why? No clue, but he does.

By this time it was time for me to go pick up N at his friend’s house. However, we clearly weren’t finished, and it wouldn’t be made any easier by having N underfoot. W called over to the friend’s house, found out it would be fine if we ran about an hour late, and we returned to our task. Let me interrupt here to say that I am out of shape, fat, lazy, not the kind of person who exercises regularly. On Sunday, I went up and down the basement stairs so much that (1)my legs are still sore from the experience (2)my bursitis is acting up and (3)I now look like and move at the speed of a little old lady when I walk. By the end of the experience I was almost crawling up those stairs, not an easy feat when carrying a full moving box with you.

Anyway, eventually we finished the basement. Everything had been brought upstairs, and most was loaded. I emptied the refrigerator into a cooler for items that were usable and the trash for items that weren’t usable. Then I went and picked up N so he could come back to the house one last time. I had tears in my eyes when I looked outside and saw him slowly swinging on the swing set. He then came in, walked through the house, opening every closet door, every cabinet, every drawer. I guess he wanted to just double check that we left nothing behind. In the meantime, W finished loading the truck. N wanted to go down the street to say goodbye to a couple of buddies. I told him okay but to come right back.

W closed up the truck and was ready to go. Although we had planned on leaving around 1:00 p.m. it was now almost 3:00 p.m. N was nowhere in sight. I told W to go ahead and leave, and I would track down N. I watched W drive off in that big truck still worried how that trip would go. Then I went and tracked down N who was playing a video game at one of his friend’s house. When I arrived asking for him, he came out and said “Oops, I forgot I was supposed to come right back.” Gotta love 8-year-olds. Or roll your eyes at them. Whatever.

Looming ahead was a three hour drive back to LNJ and the prospect of having to unload that truck once we got there. To say I was less than enthusiastic would be generous.

Oh dear, and now I’ve rambled on so long it looks like we’ll have to continue this in a Part IV. God help us all.

Rant – Part II

As promised, I shall continue to rant here trying to let off steam.

Last weekend, we went one last time to LOH to clean out the house, load up all the stuff that was left behind before, and drag it up to LNJ. Now if all that had been left behind were truly just worthless junk then I would not have hesitated to just throw it all out. However, although we filled three trash cans plus had extra bags filled with trash, there were still a significant number of useful items that I wouldn’t want discarded.

W set out to rent a cargo van. That seemed a reasonable option to me although I was just a wee bit concerned it might not be big enough for all we were taking. The rental company doesn’t rent cargo vans one way, and renting a 10 foot truck one way was cheaper than renting a cargo van round trip so we opted for the 10 foot truck. On Saturday morning, as planned, I dropped W off at the truck rental place, ran a couple of errands, snuck in a phone call to BJ, and then met W back at the house. He arrived in a very large truck which I was to find out later was 15 feet not 10. Apparently, even though he reserved a 10 foot truck, they didn’t have any available so the rented him the 15 foot truck for the 10 foot truck price. Okay, sure, we had a lot of stuff to load but not near enough to fill a 15 foot truck!Thoughts immediately sped through my head. Thoughts like how are we going to secure the load so it doesn’t just slide around in the back? Thoughts like how can I trust W to drive a truck that big without causing major damage to himself and others? Thoughts like how the fuck did I get myself into this? I did what any good conflict avoider would do and offered to go get lunch for the two of us while he started loading the truck. I soon returned with wraps from a local place we like.

After lunch, the work began in earnest. As awful as this may sound I started to load my car with the items that I knew I wouldn’t want destroyed if W crashed the rental truck. By mid-afternoon I had pretty well loaded down my car. I told W I had put some things in my car and had it pretty well filled up only to be told that he had one more thing he wanted me to take in my car – his shotgun. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having a shotgun on the floor of my car, but figured that the risk of being stopped by the police was small enough that I wasn’t going to overthink too much whether or not a shotgun under the seat would be a concealed weapon or whether or not it was legal to transport it wrapped up in a blanket like W had it. I also had the thought flit across my mind that I hadn’t a clue what I’d do with a shotgun if something did happen to W. I’d just as soon have that gun in the back of the truck if he was going to crash somewhere. (Yes, I know it’s ridiculous and morbid of me to dwell on the possibility of him crashing. I know. So sue me.)

Because we had to be back to my parents’ house in time for dinner, we had to quit packing and loading before everything was packed and loaded. We did manage to take apart the computer desk and get it upstairs piece by piece. However, much of the basement stuff was still there, and still not packed. Taking stock of the situation, I could see that Sunday wasn’t going to be an easy day. We discussed the state of things on the way back to my parents’ house, and decided to forego church with them on Sunday morning (yet again) about which I was not happy. However, I didn’t have a good alternative to suggest so that was that. We determined that we would get up Sunday morning, get an early start and be all loaded and ready to go by the time we had to pick N up at a friend’s house where he spent the weekend.

This is getting long again so I guess you’ll have to wait for Rant – Part III to find out how Sunday actually went, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Oh God I hope it doesn’t go on much longer.

And Now – A Rant, Pt. I

The movers came and moved us two months ago. At the time, W said that a couple of things didn’t get moved. Oh well, I thought, that’s okay because we have to go back to take N to summer camp and pick him up again on two consecutive weekends. We’ll get whatever was left behind then.

The first weekend, after dropping N off at the bus for camp on Sunday morning, we headed over to the house. To describe my reaction as shock, disgust, and horror would not be overly dramatic. There were still unpacked items in every closet of every bedroom. The three hallway closets had barely been touched. The pantry in the kitchen was still about half full. A few cabinets and drawers in the kitchen had items in them. The refrigerator had not been emptied. I didn’t even dare look in the basement. I didn’t want to know. Add to this that W at that time was having trouble with one of his legs, using a cane to get around, and not doing very well at that. I had a meltdown, and as I tend to do in such circumstances, I became Supreme Dictator, She With Whom You Must Not Argue. I told W to get whatever he absolutely needed to take home with him that day, and that’s all we were taking at that time. It was obvious to me that there was no way we could haul everything in my little SUV so we would have to rent a truck or at least a cargo van to get everything. I announced that I would take a couple days off the next week to come back down so we could get everything packed and loaded before picking N up from camp. We drove home. We were not happy campers.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I was unable to take time from work that next week so the plan changed. That weekend (this was the weekend BTW when we had the big talk on the drive down), after picking N up from camp on Saturday and celebrating my dad’s birthday that day, we would spend Sunday packing boxes at the house, getting as much ready as we could for a future weekend trip back to load up and haul things up to LNJ. W’s leg was doing some better but not significantly. W tackled the basement while I worked on the main floor. I started at the far end of the house, the bedrooms and worked my way forward. Room by room I boxed things up and brought them out to the family room until the main floor had all been boxed up. In the dining room I had the pile of items to be donated, and those our realtor was going to stop by and pick up for us. In the kitchen I had most everything boxed up or at least set out on the island ready for packing. In the family room I had all the boxes, many boxes, from the remainder of the main floor. With a three hour drive ahead of us we called it quits in the late afternoon, loaded what we could in my car and drove home.

Now, I should have known that the basement was still in disarray. While I went methodically upstairs, room by room, assembling things in a central location I knew that isn’t how W works. That’s one reason we didn’t work in the same area, because it would drive me nuts how he starts one thing, gets distracted, leaves it half done and goes to start something else. I had walked through the basement at one point just to get an idea of the amount of stuff that needed to be hauled out of there. There was a lot. Two storage closets full, plus the office closets and bookcase full of stuff, plus the computer desk, plus a stereo, plus who knows how much else. I shuddered. I focused on the upstairs and tried to ignore the basement. W assured me when we left that he had it all boxed up but a couple of boxes worth of stuff. Against my better judgment I chose to believe him.

Next time on A Rant:
Last weekend and how much fun renting a truck, packing, loading and unloading that truck can be.

Dreams, Perhaps not so Sweet

Within the last few days I’ve had several dreams, vivid dreams, disturbing dreams, dreams that leave me lying in bed in the morning still thinking about them and what they mean.

Twice I have dreamed specifically about taking off my wedding ring and putting it away. I’m very clear on the meaning of that one. I want to make that final break from my marriage, and I want to get it over with. In one of the dreams the focal point was the putting away of the wedding ring. I didn’t just take it off and set it aside. I took it off, carefully placed it in a box and put it away on a high shelf. That is absolutely all I remember about the dream, but it felt very important to me both in the dream and upon waking. In the other dream I took off my wedding ring, but that was not the focal point of the dream. The focal point of that dream was W and me talking about the end of the marriage and working through many of the finer details, one of which, the primary one in fact, being money. When he worked out his expenses vs. his income he would be spending more on a monthly basis than he was receiving, and this naturally was going to be a problem. I was exasperated that once again I was going to have to work out the solution which seemed fairly obvious to me, but which he couldn’t figure out for himself. At that point, the alarm rang and ended the dream but left me with the realization that I am concerned about how he will manage financially on his own. He should be fine by my reckoning, but I wonder if he’ll see it the same.

The other really vivid, and quite disturbing, dream revolved around work. I was at work at my new job, but strangely enough, my old, old, old, old employer (the company that went bankrupt on the west coast) was just across the building, a fairly short walk through the cubicle maze. So I’m trying to work on my new job and am feeling some pressure to get things done a little more quickly than I’m currently managing, when along comes an old coworker, let’s call her Mary, asking if I can come and assist them. First of all, Mary is a woman who in real life just died a few months ago after a short struggle with pancreatic cancer. The second strange thing is that the overwhelming crisis they needed to resolve was the $200 in petty cash. They didn’t know where it was, and they needed me to tell them where it was and how to get to it. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me and I said I would stop by as soon as I could and kept working on the new job. Also, I had a cold and was wrapped in a blanket trying to keep warm and wishing I could use a sick day and go home, but had so much to do that I felt the need to stay and do it. I kept working on the new job and finally got to a point where I felt like I could go back to the old job to help out for just a bit. All bundled in my blanket I go over to my old desk. Because nobody else was using my old desk they’d placed an old table on the other side of the aisle from the desk so that it was a really tight squeeze to get in there causing my claustrophobia to act up a bit and further agitate me, not to mention it reminded me of all the weight I've regained that I had worked so hard to lose. I opened the drawer and took out the two keys that would be needed to get the petty cash. The keys were not hidden in any way, and I know I told someone where they were before I left the job. I explained to Mary that the petty cash box was in the safe, and that I no longer remembered the combination to the safe so they would have to wait until another old coworker, let’s call him Joe, was around as he was the only one that knew the combination. Joe was already gone for the day because he worked early hours and it was already a few minutes after 5:00. However, I went ahead and explained to Mary how the first key would be used to get into the specific area of the safe where the lockbox was held, and that the second key opened the lockbox itself. I figured I was finished at that point, but Mary was concerned about how the entry would be made to reflect the transaction. She was trying to describe some multi-step complicated entry, and I said no it is quite simple, just a debit to the bank account and credit to petty cash. I couldn’t figure out why she wanted to make it so complicated when it was really such a simple thing, and I just wanted to go home because of my cold. I also felt overwhelmingly that I wanted to be finished with the old job and just move on with the new one. I awoke absolutely agitated by this dream even though it doesn’t seem that big a deal as I type it out here. It haunted my thoughts much of yesterday though.

I don’t know for sure what all of these dreams mean although I can take pretty good guesses in most instances. I’m hoping that just by addressing them in the light of day, in my conscious mind, that I can release them from the need of filling my nights.

So Many Thoughts

So little time.

Will Trueself find time to write a real post today?

Has there been any movement in her situation?

Are things going well, or is she down in the dumps?

What has filled her dreams the last few days?

And what do those dreams mean?

Stay tuned. . .

I can't wait to see what I have to say either!

Another Horoscope

Your sense of truth continues to spur you into action as Mars moves through your sign. The problem, however, is that you could lose patience with the process of change when you disagree with what others are doing. You can see an original solution to an ongoing problem. It's your time to be daring enough to go for what you want.

Yes indeed, it is time to be daring enough to go for what I want. Yes it is indeed.

This is so me!

You Are a New School Democrat

You like partying and politics - and are likely to be young and affluent. You're less religious, traditional, and uptight than most Democrats. Smoking pot, homosexuality, and gambling are all okay in your book. You prefer that the government help people take care of themselves.

What's Your Political Persuasion?

You Are Incredibly Logical

Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic You think rationally, clearly, and quickly. A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer!

How Logical Are You?

And doesn't that just naturally mean that it is only logical to be a New School Democrat? ;-)

Yeah, I'm Just the Female Will Ferrell

I'm not sure whether I'm honored or depressed by this little bit of insight.

Your Score: the Ham

(42% dark, 46% spontaneous, 26% vulgar)

your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT

Your style's goofy, innocent and feel-good. Perfect for parties and for the dads who chaperone them. You can actually get away with corny jokes, and I bet your sense of humor is a guilty pleasure for your friends. People of your type are often the most approachable and popular people in their circle. Your simple & silly good-naturedness is immediately recognizable, and it sets you apart in this sarcastic world.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Will Ferrell - Will Smith




The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -

If you're interested, try my best friend's best test: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Masterpiece

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Sorry no time for a real post today and maybe not until after the weekend. I'm too busy learning SQL Server 2005 Reporting Services, and then it is one last trip to LOH before the sale is finalized to clean out the rest of the junk W didn't deal with when the official move happened. Not that I'm frustrated by that in any way. . .

Back to Perspective

I think I've gotten things back into better perspective today than I had last night.

All is not gloomy. All is not lost. I tend to think so when I'm overly tired and overly stressed, but it ain't that bad. In the light of day, after a night's sleep I can see that what happened last night was not a cave in, but an honest admission that I have been tempted lately to give in and just live with it. Of course, W came back with the standard "I don't want us to stay together if that is just you giving in" line. I then countered that I can't see any other way for me to stay with him. So while I focused last night in my exhaustion on the temptation to cave the reality remains that I didn't cave. Come to think of it one could actually see this whole conversation in a different light, a light of now he knows that for me to stay is for me to resign myself and give up, not that I think I can ever be happy with him again. So maybe there is just a smidge of light at the tunnel after all.

Anybody Got a Spare One of These Around?

Yes, that would be a backbone, a spine, the thing that I seem to not have when it comes to dealing with the issues at hand. I caved. . . again. . . I admitted in counseling tonight that I'm tempted to just give up, give in and agree to stay just to keep the peace, just to not hurt W more, just to not have to deal with it anymore by closing my eyes, shutting up and hanging in there.

WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?

Jello has a firmer backbone than I have.

Back to the deep dark pit of self pity. . .

Whole Lotta Nothing

Today's Horoscope:

You are less interested now in an exciting romance or a get-rich-quick scheme than you are in creating stability while having fun. Keep in mind that there is no need to give up the finer things in life just because you want to do the right thing. You can certainly get your work done efficiently, while still leaving time for playful enjoyment.

Oh bother. On first reading, I thought this meant something, but then I looked at it again. This is just one of those horoscopes that when you really break it down doesn't really say anything at all. Kind of like me. . . Ha!

Head Close to Exploding

Yes, I feel as though my head is about to explode from the overload this weekend of pressure from W about finding a way to make things work for us.

The biggest problem I see in that is that every single time he asks me what he needs to differently, and I tell him exactly what he would need to do differently, he just gets very, very sad. I think that is because he realizes that he can't, or won't, make the changes that would be required for me to find this relationship to be satisfactory, or even tolerable. Yet he still persists in begging me to stay with him. He does not want to be just friends with me. He wants to be husband and wife. He does not want me to have the freedom to have other relationships with men. But when I tell him that my perception is that all I am to do is to sit around and wait and be there when he wants me or needs me to do something for him, he pouts. He has no dispute for this. He cannot come up with what more he wants from me for I've repeatedly asked. He says he just wants me to be me. No he doesn't. He doesn't want me to be me. He wants me to be the me he holds in his mind. He wants me to be the pushover, the adoring younger woman in awe of the successful older man. Well, that's a falacy if there ever was one. We've lived on my salary since one year into the marriage. He has contributed little in a monetary way to our relationship because most of his retirement income goes back out to his first wife in alimony. Oh sure, he gets his monthly stipend from his mother's trust but that is HIS money to play with. I never even get to know where that money goes or what he spends it on although the evidence is pretty clear that too much goes into get rich quick schemes. The awe has been gone for a long time. I've tried to make this a partnership, but there are too many pieces of ourselves that have become off limits to one another through the years for it to be a partnership. We are two individuals, living individual lives to a great extent, but without the freedom to truly live individual lives.

Sorry for the rambling. It's been a long weekend. . .

Sometimes Clarity Shines Through

BJ and I talked yesterday and again this morning about the job/move/relationship issues. We both feel a whole lot better about it now.

Without sharing too much identifying details, there could be the possibility for him of a position farther away that could be a great job for him for the next couple of years and would allow him to further his education. That education could lead him back here in a capacity that he would much enjoy. This farther away location is but a couple of hours flight from me. Being apart for the next couple of years would give both of us time to work through the ending of our current marriages, spending some time on our own, and could bring us back together at a time when we are more ready to move on than either of us would be if we rebounded into a new marriage too soon after ending the old ones. We would, of course, stay in each others' lives to the extent that we could during the time we remain apart. We would fly to visit one another as often as practical and continue our excessive phone, email and IM chats.

Yes, occasionally a little ray of clarity bursts through the clouds, cheers us up, and helps us to continue to move forward step by step, sometimes great leaps forward and other times tiny baby steps.

And just so you know, BJ loves this area as much as I do. He really wants to live here. He really wants to find a job here. It really wouldn't make much sense for me to uproot myself and N when BJ and I both really want to eventually make a home together here. The fact is that there is a very real possibility that at this particular time there is not going to be a suitable job available here for BJ. That fact in and of itself cannot be the driving factor behind me moving again. It wouldn't make sense no matter how strong the love is between BJ and me, and at least from my perspective, the love between us is very very strong. I think we all need to let this unfold as it unfolds and see where things go. If our love is as strong as we think it is then we'll make it through a few years apart. If our love isn't as strong as we think then surely we will learn that in those few years and spare ourselves from each having a second failed marriage.

Oh BTW, happy Friday the 13th!

Ick

Counseling last night. Ick.

I brought up Friday's conversation. W sat silently with his back to me. The counselor asked me to elaborate on what I meant by "treading water." I described it as making no forward progress, and gave concrete examples. Eventually, W did join the conversation but only because the counselor asked him specific questions. At one point, W placed full blame for my dissatisfaction on my desire to stay in communication with J. I almost laughed at that but didn't. I didn't even respond to it. What a simplistic way to look at it. Ignore my dissatisfaction with our relationship, my dissatisfaction with the way he treats N, and focus on J, a man who barely plays any role in my life anymore. Even if he knew about, and focused on, other men with whom I've been this past year he would still not "get" why I need out.

The upshot by the end of the hour was that he was disappointed that I don't want to be with him, but it is clear that we are not going to continue together as a couple. Several times throughout the session I wanted to "make nice" and subjugate my wants and needs to placate W, BUT I DIDN'T. Whenever that thought crept in I would just stay quiet. I examined that thought and asked myself if I would be happier if I gave in or if I stood firm. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I could make myself happy somehow by placating W and staying, I couldn't. The only reason to back down would be to lessen the immediate tension, but the long-term tension would remain.

We will have another counseling session next Tuesday. I don't know how long it will be before W and I can speak rationally about this situation. He has not spoken one word to me since the end of counseling last night.

New Thoughts

Well, one of the possibilities that I realized was there but tried to ignore has placed itself squarely in front of me. BJ might not get a job here, or close to here. He might end up living just as far, or farther, from me than he does now.

I've been feeling an odd distance between BJ and me lately that has nothing whatsoever to do with geography. So it has led me to some new thoughts. Maybe the thoughts aren't really new but just bringing forward some thoughts that have been there for a while.

Am I a crutch for BJ to help him do what he needed to do in finally leaving his marriage? From what I know from him of his marriage he definitely needed to get out, probably should have never gotten in to begin with. But somehow he was stuck, unable to make that move. Was the promise of something better waiting for him the thing that was needed to make him make that move? Now that he has had the courage to make that move will I continue to be important enough to him for him to want to spend his life with me?

On the other hand is BJ a crutch for me to help me do what I need to do in finally leaving my marriage? I do believe that I need to get out, that this relationship is sucking the life out of me. But I've been stuck, unable to make that move. Would I be making this move without BJ in the picture?

Hmm, such a quandry. I am so thrilled with my new job here. I love my new house. I love the community. I don't want to ever move away from here. I am comfortable here and feel at home here, having spent much of my childhood in this general area. So what if BJ as a job opportunity of a lifetime hundreds of miles away? I wouldn't want him to pass that up. I also know that I would not move from here. I went through too many jobs that I didn't like to get to my dream job to give it up now that I've got it. BJ deserves to have the same, a job that he loves as much as I love mine.

Where's it all going? I don't have any idea. I do know that no matter how BJ and I as a couple end up, I still need to leave W. I will split from W no matter what is happening with BJ and me. BJ is NOT my reason for leaving W. My unhappiness in the relationship is my reason for leaving W.

I hope BJ is part of my future. I hope somehow he can find a suitable job fairly close to me. I guess part of me wishes I could say that I'd move wherever he does find a job, but that isn't going to happen. I'm happy here. I don't want to move again, and I won't.

All Quiet on the Midwestern Front

• No more talk since Friday about the break up. I was intending to do it last night during our counseling session together, but the counselor called yesterday and had to reschedule us to Thursday. It has become clear to me that W isn't going to bring it up again, so I know it's up to me to keep this thing moving.
• N has been having mystery stomach pains, sometimes severe. The doctor hasn't figured out the problem yet, but is monitoring him. Damn, I hate it when my baby is sick.
• I'm in SQL training the next two days at work. Then three more days next week. I'm gonna turn into a programmer yet. Sheesh, accounting nerd/computer geek. Could I get any more square?
• I've gotten so little sleep between N's pains and my angst over my situation that it's a wonder I'm even still standing. Do you suppose they'll include naptime during the training? No, I don't think so either.

Well, I found this fascinating

As I was surfing across cyberspace today I ran across the following article on wikiHow. If you are someone that puts great stock in psychics and the like and don't want your myth destroyed you may not want to read the article. If however, like me you are a skeptic and have always thought it was trickery and had figured out some of their tricks but not as many as you'd like then definitely check it out.

How to Cold Read

Now, of course I would never, ever encourage you to use the techniques outlined, particularly on gullible people with more money than brains. Really, that would be very very wrong.

What the Inkblots Say

Following such a heavy post as yesterday's I thought I'd come back with something a bit lighter. I took a quiz. I love these silly little quizzes. They make great time wasters and diversions when you're trying to avoid realty.

I agree with the outcome of this quiz. It is a fairly good description of me. However, the picture they included with it really creeps me out.

Laney`s Original Inkblot Test Outcome C - The Scientist. Based on the descriptions you chose, you have quite a unique mind. You are creative, introverted, and find it hard to meet new people. You are constantly looking for new methods and ideas, and find excitement in learning. Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests

A Question of Faith

Now that my brain has cleared somewhat from the fog that had overtaken it last week I shall turn my attention to a question that Al asked last week (or was it longer ago than that?). Let's see if I can answer it relatively intelligently.

What role does your spirituality play in your life, how does it relate to your sexuality, and how is being spiritual helping you through this trying time.

Spirituality plays a large role in my life, maybe not in the way that a traditional church-going Christian would consider a large role, but to me personally it feels vitally important to me. If I did not have my faith, I would feel utterly lost in the world, and often it is when I lose sight of my faith that I struggle the most with my emotions. I don't participate in tons of church activities. I don't read my Bible every single day. I don't do a lot of the typical religious stuff. I do pray a lot though. I converse with God a lot. I should become more involved in a congregation somewhere, would like to do so, and intend to do so although I will never ever be the uppity holier-than-thou Christian.

In terms of my sexuality, my faith has helped guide my behavior although I have not always adhered to the ideals in which I believe. However, I know that I am human with human frailties. I believe that adultery is sin, and a sin of which I am guilty. Do I feel remorseful for it? Yes I do. Am I going to stop? No, not right now. Now I know a lot of people will disagree, but I believe that the act of betrayal, the going behind W's back, is the more sinful part of the act of adultery rather than the act of sex. Perhaps it is rationalization on my part but I believe that sex in an open relationship if agreed to by both partners is not sinful but merely a sharing of one another with others. Yes, I know adultery is one of the Ten Commandments and therefore so much worse than some other sins. However, who among us can say that we haven't broken one or more of the Commandments? Except my mom of course. She swears that she has never committed a sin since becoming a Christian. I guess she can be one of the first to throw stones at me.

Having faith in God is a huge help to me in this trying time. It is only through my faith that I have made it this well for this long. Without it I would be completely adrift and lost. It has made me think long and hard about the issue of divorce. It has made me really search my heart (as well as seek counsel from more religiously learned people than myself) to come to the place where I can see that divorce is not always the wrong choice or the immoral choice, but it is also something that one does not undertake lightly. I have moved beyond the point of feeling a moral obligation to uphold vows that have already been broken. It is no longer a moral issue to me but rather one of courage, or lack of courage, to take the step. I am a huge people pleaser, and that has been my struggle of late. Obviously I am working on, and sometimes succeeding at, overcoming that struggle.

My faith and beliefs are not really mainstream though they also aren't quite as liberal as some of the more liberal churches. Sometimes I (half-jokingly) say that I should start my own church as that is the only way I'll ever find one that fits my beliefs. Years ago, my dad said that he thinks people find the religion that most closely match their personal beliefs not that a person's religion molds that person's beliefs. To a great extent I think he's right. None of the various churches of various denominations of which I've attended and/or been a member have ever changed my mind on issues of faith. I believe what I believe, and I talk to God about it through prayer. I figure if He and I are good with each other it really doesn't matter if I'm in sync with the rest of the world, or mainstream Christians, or any other group of people.

Boy oh boy. I'll bet I've just opened myself up to criticism from all types of people now, huh? Thanks so much Al. I'll let you help me respond to comments to this post. ;-)

Beginning of the End

Well, as they say, it is always darkest before the dawn. Looks like dawn is here.

After a week with N at camp, and our beautiful (WARNING: sarcasm) anniversary celebration, and diving into the depths of depression, W and I left on Friday to drive to my parents' house for the weekend so we could pick N up from camp on Saturday. I resigned myself to not having "THE TALK" at least until next week, hopefully during our marrige counseling session on Tuesday evening. The drive was uneventful, with me playing my new CD by Bowling For Soup as we made our way towards the weekend.

We stopped for dinner. As I have been doing for some time now, I brought up our relationship. I asked if he didn't feel like we were just treading water. No, he doesn't feel that way. He mentioned he'd been catching up on my blog (by which he means the other one, the one about which he knows). I asked how much he'd been reading. Very light conversation. Just as dinner arrived, I turned it back to the relationship. I asked him exactly what it is that I do that makes him want to keep me around? Total silence ensued. Not one word was spoken for the remainder of dinner. My kneejerk reaction was to apologize for pushing too hard and try to make nice. HOWEVER, I sat there wordlessly, deciding that to do so would send incorrect signals, that once again I would be too nice and back off of my expressions of my true feelings.

We left the restaurant still having said nothing. We got in the car and I switched to my new Dixie Chicks CD. We rode quietly, the music in the background. My favorite song, "Not Ready to Make Nice" came on. A few phrases into the song W says, "So do you want me to move out?" Again, the kneejerk reaction was to play nice say no and back down. HOWEVER, instead I moved the discussion back to my earlier question. We talked for a bit, and eventually I told him that yes I want him to move out. During the discussion he again brought up my blog and that he realized from some things he read that we needed to call it quits. I asked what specifically led him to that (fearing he'd found this blog). He brought up an entry I had made on my other blog that I didn't even realize would have led him to his conclusion. We talked practicalities for a bit, and as we neared my parents' house we discussed tabling the discussion for the weekend. No need telling my parents until we're more sure of the details of what we're doing. Also, we want to tell N first, and we don't really want to tell him until we have more concrete plans about where W will move and that sort of thing.

There have been no further discussions of the topic. The air was a bit tense between us this weekend, but that's not so unusual so I don't think anyone thought much of it. We did still sleep in the same bed at my parents' house which was rather uncomfortable, but we lived through it.

So we have begun the end of it all. I don't know how quickly or slowly it will all happen. At least it's out there.

I had a really really hard time not smiling a lot this weekend. I am so happy we're going to bring this all to an end.

Whew!

Just Because I Need a Laugh

Two Ways to Look at Everything

My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.

My wife asked, "Do you know her?"

"Yes," I sighed, "She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago,and I hear she hasn't been sober since."

"My God!" says my wife, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

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And in other news, you've no doubt noticed that I've not been responding to comments lately. At first, I just wasn't reading them. Didn't want to know what anyone had to say. Finally, last night after a mighty fine Top Shelf Margarita at dinner I did read them but was a bit too drunk (yes, that's all it took to get me drunk enough for a hangover this morning) to respond to them in any coherent way. As a matter of fact, I should probably go back and read them sober. Now I will be away for the weekend, in the land of the Luddites (aka my parents' house) where there is no internet so I may not get around to responding to your comments. It doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your comments. I do. Please, keep commenting. Eventually, I'll straighten up enough to respond to them again.

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Oh, and one more thing. I just had to remind myself that I already have the speech all laid out for the big talk, right here. Duh. Why didn't I go back and reread this a couple of days ago? Gotta keep reminding myself. Gotta stay focused. Gotta channel my inner supreme hard ass bitch. Gotta do this. . .

We Do Not Talk

Why does he want me here?
What does he get from this relationship?
I sit in one room.
He sits in another.
We do not talk.

What connections are left?
We share a son.
We disagree on how to raise him.
We’ve given up persuading one another to our points of view.
We do not talk.

Where is our common ground?
About what do we agree?
I want to pay off the house.
He wants to invest and keep the mortgage.
We do not talk.

What is in this for him?
Does he want my paycheck?
Does he want my presence?
What is it that he wants?
We do not talk.

Why does he beg me to stay?
Why is staying good enough?
Even though I stay I am not his.
Even though I stay there is no connection.
We do not talk.

How do I move on?
Why do I feel I must persuade him that it is best for all?
I need to do things for me.
I need to break free.
We do not talk.