Lessons Learned

I’ve been thinking back to a year ago a lot lately. I think that has to do with how traumatic last January was for me. It was truly not the best month of my life.

At this point last year I was still convalescing from the accident. You remember, don’t you, the one where I was hit by a car driven by an inattentive woman? Yes, I thought you did (or do now that you clicked that link up there and reminded yourself). To this day I still watch much more carefully for traffic. To this day if I see a moving vehicle anywhere within my line of vision I will try to wait for it to go away before walking across the street or parking lot (makes shopping difficult, let me tell you, not to mention attending sporting events where traffic is thicker than flies on cow manure) or at the very least I’ll keep an eagle eye on the offending vehicle the entire time even if it’s more than a block away. Cautious is my middle name now when it comes to walking where there are vehicles nearby. Also, I’m big on hand holding while walking now. I’m not sure how that protects me, or maybe it’s just that I figure if I get hit at least I’ll have company. Anyway, a little more than a year has passed and neither the scars on my foot nor the scars on my psyche are completely gone yet.

At this point last year I did not yet know that I was about to be devastated by the man I love. I hadn’t yet received the Dear Jane email, didn’t yet know the depths of which I could feel betrayal. To this day I haven’t regained 100% in BJ. Little by little I trust him more and more, but I feel my caution and my distrust. I do not want to be one of those people, and never have been one in the past, who snoops and tries to check up on their significant other. So far I haven’t, but I’ve been tempted. I have been oh so tempted, but so far I’ve refused to succumb to the temptation. What I do however is listen ever so closely to the things he says and doesn’t say, watch ever so closely to what he does and doesn’t do, read in more than probably should be into the least little thing. I have yet to reopen my heart 100% to him, and sometimes I wonder if I ever will.

What happened last winter helped me give up on my thoughts of ever finding a happily ever after. There will never be a happily ever after in my life. What happened last winter made me stronger in some ways. It has also made me more cynical. I no longer really believe in lifelong love. I no longer believe that I will ever have anyone in my life who will mean the words in the vows one takes when one marries. I no longer believe I will ever have someone in my life who I can count on to be there for a lifetime. What I now believe is that I can appreciate the good things about having someone in my life for the length of time they are willing to stay in my life. I believe that I have to just have my own independent life and let others have their lives and if our lives happen to intersect for a while then we can enjoy it for that time. I will never find another person who shares enough of my dreams and with whom I share enough of theirs to think that we will ever have anything more than at most a few years together, and then we will move on and go our separate ways. In some ways that makes me sad. In others it makes me feel better because it makes it okay to not get too close, to not let my guard down, to not let others all the way in, to be the way I am.

Yep, I learned some hard lessons last January. I still fight against some of them. I’m starting to give up the fight though, after a year. As Dan Fogelberg sang, “Lessons learned are like bridges burned. You only need to cross them but once. Is the knowledge gained worth the price of the pain? Are the spoils worth the cost of the hunt?”Lessons learned

Random Chaos

I have approximately as many thoughts running through my head as Congress has lobbyists pushing for a stimulus handout to their industry of choice. With so many different thoughts crowding around trying to vie for my attention I am left dazed and confused and unable to string together a coherent and relevant post. What you get therefore is a stream of consciousness post. Thoughts thrown willy nilly on the screen without segues to bridge from one to another. There may be overlap or even repetition therein. Proceed with caution. No telling what may fall from my brain through my fingertips to the computer.

Drained, I feel drained in so many ways these days. It’s all too hard, requiring too much effort. I don’t like standing on my own two feet and would really like for somebody to just come in and take care of me. (And yes, I do know just how absolutely pathetic that sounds.)

I’m thinking a lot about morality these days. My own and what it says about me that while I believe in a certain morality I don’t follow it. Damn this human weakness. I am not the person I want to be. I don’t have the character I want to have. Moreover, I am finding it damned hard to change. I know how I want to be, and yet I continue to not act the way I want to act.

Paul’s words in Romans 7 haunt me, and I want to go study them further, in depth and in context, to make sure that I understand what the message there really is.

I like my new therapist. It’s nice to be seeing someone locally instead of doing it via phone like I have been. It’s the first time I’ve seen a male therapist. I don’t know if that’s good or bad or totally irrelevant. I’m starting to see where the “I’m not good enough” frame of mind originated. While I believe that it is something internal to me it certainly was fostered by my parents and their expectations of me and their repeated disappointment in my failure to live up to their expectations. What I really want to find is a way to make peace with myself over being okay even if I don’t ever live up to anyone else’s expectations of me.

Stupid winter weather is getting me down. When the predicted high is a negative number that’s just depressing. When you wake up to no power and frozen water pipes that’s not fun. When you have to use flashlights to find your way to the clean undies, and when you have to go without coffee until you get to work, and when you have to wear layers and layers of clothes to go outside for even a few minutes, it’s time to salute Mother Nature with an obscene gesture and go have a good cry, being careful to cry only indoors to prevent frozen tear drops on your cheek.

Something W said to me a few years ago echoes in my head over and over and over. “If you want to do something badly enough you’ll find a way to do it no matter what.” That almost sounds like a good thing, but in the context in which it was said it is not. And the thing is, I know he is right.

Friendship for People Who Don't Like People

I have often thought that I don’t like people much, in general. I don’t seem to “get” most people. I’m not on the same wavelength with mainstream average Americans. Why do I bring this up today? Why do I mention it at all? I’ve been thinking a lot about it the last couple of weeks, ever since I had a conversation with a lovely woman at church a couple of Sundays ago.

I was on duty as greeter that day, at the Northeast entrance of the church. I was there at the appointed time, about 45 minutes prior to services starting. To tell you the truth at our little church not many people arrive until about 5 minutes or less prior to services starting so I wasn’t terribly busy at my post. As a matter of fact I sat down on the bench just inside the door and was lost in thought over various and sundry things when “Pat” (not her real name) wandered out to where I was from somewhere within the church. She had come for the adult Sunday school class only to find it not in session that week. She sat on the bench opposite the one on which I sat, and we chatted.

Pat and I were not well acquainted but did know one another in passing. We have been in the same Sunday school class together a few times, and we’ve chatted briefly. I knew that she is retired and has mostly raised her grandson, and she knew that I am mom to N. We started our conversation talking about our boys and childrearing and how to handle certain behavior. You know, typical “mom talk.” We progressed to talking about our histories and our marriages and our divorces and our careers. We got to know one another quite well in our half hour or so of conversation.

During the conversation Pat shared that although she had gone into psychology as a profession it probably wasn’t a great choice for her because she doesn’t really like people. I found that to be a fascinating statement. Here she was saying the same thing I’ve felt for years. I don’t really like people. As she went on to talk about her career and how she mostly had administrative and managerial positions so she didn’t have to deal with actual clients much, I was thinking how similar that sounds to how I would feel about it. In college, I toyed with the idea of becoming a psychology major. However, the thought of actually having to listen to people drone on about how awful their situation is while being unwilling to work to change themselves to better their situation made me decide that being an accountant, playing with the numbers, sitting at a desk and not having to interact a great deal with actual people, was probably a better career choice for me.

As more and more people arrived for church I had to take my greeter duties more seriously, and we wrapped up our chat. Pat said to me that although she doesn’t like people she had really enjoyed our conversation. I told her I felt the same way. She went on into the sanctuary as I turned to greet the late arrivals.

I think Pat and I just may have a new friendship in the making here. . . in spite of the fact that neither of us likes people.

WikiHow I Most Need to Read and Follow

How to Talk to Strangers

from wikiHow - The How to Manual That You Can Edit

Walking up to people you don't know and striking up conversation is the social equivalent of skydiving. It's fun, interesting, and risky. And it will change your life. You’ll meet new people every day, you’ll give yourself control over your social and love life, and you’ll experience firsthand the joy of living dangerously. But how do you go from sitting in front of a computer to habitually starting conversations with strangers on a daily basis? Read on, aspiring social skydiver, read on...

Steps

1. Let go of your ego. Prepare to be told to "$#&! off!" Prepare to be ignored. Prepare to be brushed off in dramatic fashion. But also prepare to meet (and possibly date) people of unique vintage and beauty. When you take the risk of talking to someone you don’t know, rejection is the only certainty. But failure is exciting–-it’s a chance to learn and improve. So when you're out and about, leave the ego behind and keep the following in mind:
   
   • People don’t bite. A lot of people are really open to conversation. In fact, you’d be amazed at how many people will be practically overjoyed that you came and talked to them, as if they’ve been waiting for you to approach them.
     
   • Rejection is no big deal. This can't be emphasized enough. Still, fear of rejection will be the main reason why people don’t go out and try this. If you are willing to get rejected, brush it off and keep going, you will have an awesome life. Period.
     
   • The people around you aren’t watching you approach strangers. And, even when they are, it’s usually in shock and awe, rather than because they’re laughing at you.
     
   
   
2. Keep your conversations fairly organic. Don't come in with “canned material”, “nuclear attraction” routines, or other social robotics. The best way to make a connection with someone is to come from the heart and live fully in the moment. What you say isn’t nearly as important as how you say it. Socializing is about exchanging energy, not being a wordsmith. When in doubt, just say “Hi”. If you’ve never done this before, you may get brushed off several, even dozens of times until you get really comfortable being yourself in front of other people.
   
3. If you’re still terrified by the idea of talking to strangers, challenge yourself to talk to one stranger a day, every day, for 30 days. If you’re walking past someone on the sidewalk, say “Hi”, and the person looks at you and keeps walking (done that many times), your job is done for the day. If you walk up to a girl in a club and say “Hey!”, and she responds, with a slightly grossed out look “I have a boyfriend.”, congratulations, you’re one step closer to improving your love life. The point of this exercise is to get you used to talking to people you don’t know and form the habit of being more social.
   
4. Go out to social events by yourself. That’s right. Don’t invite anyone along. No one needs to know where you’re going. You don’t need permission from your girlfriend or boyfriend. You just need to choose to make right now a lot more exciting than yesterday. Your goal for this outing should be just one simple thing: Amuse yourself. You don’t need to get any phone numbers. In fact, you need even make no guarantee that you’ll actually talk to anyone. Don’t scare yourself into submission before you’ve even left the house. This event be something that interests you. If you claim you “can’t find anything good” you aren’t looking hard enough. Here are some ideas:
   
   • Art Shows
     
   • Book Readings
     
   • Rock Concerts
     
   • Museum Exhibitions
     
   • “Beginners Night” Dance Classes
     
   • Speed Dating
     
   • Outdoor Festivals
     
   • Geek Gatherings
     
   • Parades/Rallies/Protests
     
   
   

Tips

• If you do this enough, you’ll eventually get comfortable being yourself around people. While you should expect your first time to be really scary, even lame perhaps, see the bigger picture. Do you really think you’ll still be just as horrified once you’ve done this 10 times? 100 times? 1000 times? Planting yourself in social situations actually makes talking to strangers become the path of least resistance. In fact, you’ll look a lot more strange if you aren’t talking to people.
  
• Being willing to go out by yourself gives you more control over your social life. It means you can make a decision about what you want to do on a given night, even if nobody else wants to or is available to join you. Suddenly, those awkward moments of waiting around like a loser for your friend to show up at some social gathering become opportunities to meet new people.
  

Warnings

• You will encounter all of the following problems, but the sooner you push through them, the sooner you'll realize how harmless they really are:
  
  • You won’t know what to say when you approach people.
    
  • You might end up standing around like a loser.
    
  • You’ll be almost visibly shaking for the first few people you approach.
    
  • Some people will think you’re creepy.
    
  • Some people will think you’re weird because you’re not out with your friends.
    
  • You’ll tell yourself, “Oh my God! This is too hard! I think I’ll just rent a movie instead.”
    
  
  

Related wikiHows

• How to Make Friends
  
• How to Go from Introvert to Extrovert
  
• How to Look Approachable
  
• How to Network
  
• How to Have a Great Conversation
  

Sources and Citations

• 30sleeps.com - Original source of the content in this article, shared with permission.
  

Article provided by wikiHow, a wiki how-to manual. Please edit this article and find author credits at the original wikiHow article on How to Talk to Strangers. All content on wikiHow can be shared under a Creative Commons license.

It's Delurking Day!

I just found out it's official (Who makes it official? Beats me, I just report these things. I don't actually go out and verify them or anything. Sheesh. . . ) Delurking Day.

So all you lurkers, delurk! Even if all you do is say howdy I would love it if you would take the time to drop a comment. Also, if you have your own blog and comment here I'll drop by and leave a comment for you too!

Stolen Meme

1. Describe your ex in two words: grumpy, old

2. Do you have a favorite type of pen? Yes, Pilot® Precise V5 Needle Rollerball Pens

3. Look at your planner for May 14th, what are you doing? Nothing so far

4. What does the 4th text in your inbox say? Great not (from J after I answered "No" to his request to see me while we are at my folks' place at Christmas)

5. What was the last thing you highlighted? Report request

6. What color are your bedroom curtains? No curtains, much to my neighbors' delight I'm sure.

7. What color are the seats in your car? Black

8. Have you ever had a black and white cat? Nope

9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on? An envelope

10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? No.

11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Was out of cash

12. Who was the last baby you held? Been too long to remember

13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? Nope.

14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste? Never tried it.

15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? Pontiac Aztek

16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators. Neither. It's Illini or Nobody.

17. Last time you went to Six Flags? Either two or three years ago. Not sure.

18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house? No.

19. Closest thing to you that is yellow? PTA directory from N's school.

20. Last person to give you a business card? Insurance claims adjuster.

21. Who is the last person who wrote a check to you? My dad.

22. Closest framed picture to you? N, naturally.

23. Last time you had someone cook for you? Not including restaurants it would have to be a while back when BJ made dinner for us. Actually, he made coffee for us yesterday. Does that count?

24. Have you ever applied for welfare? No.

25. How many emails do you have? I have no idea.

26. Last time you received flowers? I don't remember the occasion, but I do remember BJ gave them to me.

27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man and woman? No.

28. Do you play air guitar? Only when I'm sure I'm alone.

29. Has anyone ever proposed to you? Several people, several times.

30. Do you take anything in your coffee? No, no sense ruining a good thing.

31. Do you have any willow tree figurines? I hate figurines for the most part, so no.

32. What was your high school’s mascot? Orphan (No, I'm not kidding)

33. Last thing you drank? Diet Coke

34. Last time you used hand sanitizer? Quite a while ago, don't know when for sure. I prefer soap and water when I can get to it.

35. Would you like to learn to play the drums? No.

36. What color are the blinds in your living room? Don't have any blinds just some ugly sheers that need to be replaced when I have the money to do so.

37. What is in your inbox at work? Nothing last I checked, but since I missed work on Friday there might be something.

38. Last thing you read in the newspaper? Comics.

39. What was the last pageant you attended? Does the church's Christmas Pageant count? If so, then last month.

40. What is the last place you bought pizza from? I'm sad to say it was Pizza Hut.

41. Have you ever worn a crown? Don't remember for sure but probably in one of the many theatrical performances from my childhood.

42. What is the last thing you stapled? A completed report request.

43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi? Nope.

44. Are you ticklish? Yes, though not as much as I used to be.

45. Last time you saw fireworks? July 4th at my parents' neighbors' place.

46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut? About 3 weeks ago.

47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned their call? W

48. Last time you parked under a carport? About 10 years ago when we still lived in the mobile home with an attached carport.

49. Do you have a black dog? Yes.

50. Do you have pickles in your fridge? Not since W moved out because neither N nor I eat pickles.

51. Are you an aunt or uncle? Yes, aunt to Ella and Bella even though I rarely get to see them.

52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know? N, beautiful dark brown eyes and long eyelashes that most women would kill to have.

53. Last time you saw a semi truck? This afternoon.

54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe? Never heard of him.

55. Do you have a little black dress? I have no little clothes of any kind.

Trueself Answers

At long last, and since I'm sitting at home with N today while he recuperates from whatever virus he picked up at school, I decided to answer the questions from Ask Trueself Anything. Like the last time I did it I didn't get many questions. Either I've already shared so much that there just wasn't much left to ask, or y'all just don't care. In keeping with keeping my self esteem high I'll assume it's the first 'cause I'm sure you all care deeply for me.

Cocotte said...
How many blogs do you follow? What attracts you to different blogs?

Cocotte -- I follow so many blogs I couldn't possibly tell you how many I follow. I follow all the ones on my blogroll in my sidebar plus some others. There are some I check every day and others that I only check on occasionally.

As for what attracts me to different blogs it can be any one of a number of things -- people who seem to have something in common with me, people who write well on topics of interest, people who I've come to know through comments on my, or other, blogs. I'm an eclectic reader of eclectic blogs, but each one that I read reflects some aspect of my own personality.

Sailor said...
I don't have a question at the moment, but I admire your willingness to risk opening up with the answers to others.

Sailor -- Why thank you. Admiration always gratefully accepted here at Deepest Darkest Thoughts.

Val said...
Tell me more about this Twitter nonsense! Do you need a Blackberry to effectively participate, or will the obsessive checking & re-checking of your PC work almost as well??!!??

Val -- Twitter is addictive. That's the most important thing you should know about it. I have no Crackberry and participate quite well with the technique you have outlined above. I obsessively check & re-check my PC. In addition, when I can't read others' Tweets I can still send Tweets by sending text messages directly to Twitter. Do I recommend Twitter? Hmm, only if you don't grow obsessive about it like I have. :-)

Tia said...
I have been reading you for years.
I pray this will not be taken in the wrong way by you or anyone else...
That said....
I never knew that BJ (nor N for that matter were ....um, not white) Is that right?
NOT THAT IT MATTERS!! But I was surprised. I don't know why.
So, my question? Is W also of color? Any other info on the subject?

Tia -- First, thanks for reading for so long. Second, no problem from me on your questions. One thing about the blogosphere is that it is totally colorblind unless the blogger posts pictures or talks about their racial identity. I don't do either very often.

Now on to your questions. I think I'll just give a "racial profile" of myself as well as each of those you mentioned. For a long time I have spoken of myself as the "palest woman on earth" because of my very pale complexion and unwillingness to try to make this easily sunburned body tan. My heritage is English and Scottish with rumor amongst the family that there is Cherokee back there somewhere but that hasn't been proven. BJ is white as white can be being of Nordic and German heritage (which also, BTW, means that he handles cold temperatures way better than I do). He's almost as pale as I am. W is also whiter than white being almost entirely of Scottish heritage. N is biracial. His birthfather is African American and his birthmother is of Irish heritage. As white parents of a biracial child we've taken care to not ignore his heritage and make sure that we live and work and worship in a community that includes racial diversity.

Fusion said...
Yes True, I was surprised to hear N is of mixed race, I didn't know that, so W is black? Interesting. My new GF's ex is black, but they didn't have any kids together.

Fusion --I just don't bring up race much. Lots of people who haven't seen N just assume he's white like me.


So there you have it. Another episode of Ask Trueself Anything wrapped up. But hey y'all, please know that you can ask me anything anytime at all. Don't ever hesitate.

Q is for Quit Bugging Me!!

In keeping with January's Resolution #6 – Say bad things about Q only on my blog and not to people in real life – today’s post is devoted to saying bad things about Q. I need to get it all out before I say it inappropriately in real life. I need to vent so you may want to stand back and perhaps shield your eyes.

Oh Q, how do I loathe you? There are oh so very many ways. Chief among them is that it bugs the heck out of me just how much you bug me. Yes, I know that is more about me than you, but I’m mad at you, this is my tantrum, and I’ll find a way to blame you for everything from unrest in Gaza to global warming. Q, you are my target du jour so just stand there and take it like the uber bitch that I claim you to be.

Q, I hate your stupid bleached blond hair. Do you really think it looks good that way? No, it looks way over processed. Please find a way to be kinder to your hair. Oh, and you might try brushing it occasionally. Just a thought. . .

Q, you are not smarter than me. You do not know more than I do about certain topics like, say, childrearing. You have that arrogant attitude only the childless possess. Get over yourself. You do NOT know better how to parent N than I do, and besides that you are NOT his parent. So SHUT UP and let me and W deal with N, ‘kay?

Q, you may be W’s girlfriend, but you and I are not ever going to be friends. I will be polite and tactful in my dealings with you, but I will not ever have any desire to be your friend. You are not the type person I generally befriend anyway even if we met under different circumstances so beyond the pleasantries of a hello and how are you let’s just can the chit chat, shall we?

Q, why did you rent a house when you never stay there? Your house has become the most expensive dog house in the world as only the dog lives there from what I can tell. You are always at W’s apartment. WTF?!? Don’t you think your dog is lonely with you only dropping by for a short while once or twice a day? There is nothing more to say here but to repeat WTF?!?

Q, when we are at church stay away from me. It’s a small church but not so small that you can’t find others to talk to during coffee hour. You do not need to seek me out to make a point of talking to me. Just go your way, and I’ll go mine. A pleasant smile and nod hello would suffice if we happen to cross paths. I am not there to talk to you. I am there to be with my church family, a family I might add in which I do not include you except as perhaps that crazy distant cousin that keeps showing up at family functions making people uncomfortable.

Q, do not cross me. You have not seen what Taurus the Bull can be like when angered. You do not want to see it. Trust me. When I start to get hot, back the fuck off, particularly if you want to live to see another day. I can tell by looking at you that if I need to I can take you down sister. Don’t make me do it.

Q, so what’s with your job being in jeopardy already? You work for a nursing home, not a place well known for speedy and efficient employees, and yet you’ve already been told just a few weeks in that if you don’t speed up you’ll be canned. Just how slowly are you moving? Good grief woman, get your act together.

Q, and what’s with being W’s live in girlfriend but not taking care of him when he’s hurt? Oh well, at least in this case he’s proved that what goes around comes around. I guess he’s just getting payback for the way he didn’t care for me when I needed him.

And now Q just a little tip here. You are really starting to get on W’s nerves. I’ve noticed it. N just told me this morning that he noticed W being annoyed with you a lot lately. N also told me (completely surprised me at his astute observation BTW) the other day that he thinks you only want a boyfriend because you don’t have a car and need someone to drive you around town. If a 10-year-old can see it, then perhaps it won’t be long before W sees it too. If you want to continue this relationship with W you might just try being a little less transparent and a little less annoying. Just sayin’. . .

Okay, I feel better. Sometimes a girl just has to have a little bitchstorm.

Carry on.
_________________________________
Updated: 4:30 p.m.

Just got off the phone with W. He called with a question about N’s schedule. Somehow the conversation moved in a direction that led him to mention that he’s trying to help Q get a job again. I politely inquired about the nursing home job. Apparently she was fired on her sixth day on the job. This would’ve been well before Christmas. I knew he mentioned soon after she started that her job was in jeopardy but had no idea she’d been canned. . . after only SIX days for (in W’s words) “being slower than molasses.” It was all I could do to maintain enough composure to politely express that I was sorry to hear she was having such troubles before ringing off.

Now I am sitting here smirking and feeling a perverse sense of pleasure at others’ pain. If I wasn’t at work I’d likely be laughing right out loud and perhaps doing a little dance around the room. Yes the Dark Side is strong within me today.

Needing Help from My Bloggy Friends

I am in specific need of a specific kind of help. I need to receive some stories from you of people who were not successful in school who became successful in life. N is not very good at academics. He tries hard, but he struggles to get anything but barely passing grades. He has other talents like sports and the arts but academics aren’t his thing. I come from a family of above average intelligence, non-athletic, non-artistic, very academic types. That doesn’t make my family of origin anything but different from what N is, and I don’t have personal experience from which to draw when reassuring N that he can indeed be successful in life without being an academic whiz kid.

So people of the blogosphere I need stories – stories of people in the real world who couldn’t make a good grade in school in spite of their best efforts who found their niche in life and have become a success. By success I don’t mean monetarily, I mean living a fulfilled life with a career they enjoy and not feeling “less than” in the world because they didn’t stack up academically. I know there are people out there with these types of life stories. I know that not every successful person is a college graduate doing a job that requires a strong academic background. I need to be able to share that with N to be able to say to him that yes, I do actually know people that make it just fine without academic excellence.

It makes me sad to realize that for the most part I surround myself only with college educated academic nerdy types. Birds of a feather I guess. I hope that nothing I’ve said here comes across as arrogant. It is not intended that way. I, and the family into which I was born, just happen to have been blessed with intelligence. That happens to be our talent in life. Although I wouldn’t trade my intelligence for more athleticism or more artistic ability it is not because I do not value those things but simply because I have learned to use my talent in a way that works for me. My hope is that in spite of not having the same talents as N that I can help N use his talents in a way that works for him, but what I know is how to be successful using academic talent. I need to know how those with athletic or artistic talents put those talents to use in being successful short of the high profile celebrity ways.

I’m counting on you, my bloggy friends, to help me with this. Share your athletic, artistic, non-academic success stories. Help me help N. Thanks.
_____________________

On another note, there's still time to Ask Trueself Anything. I'll probably be posting answers this Friday or Saturday for those of you impatiently waiting.

It's Me Not Them

As evidence mounts it becomes clearer and clearer to me that my expectations of people are way too high. People continually disappoint me. That combined with that other truth that the only person you can change is yourself makes me realize that the problem has to be me, not the other people. The other people are doing what they do the way they are going to do it. I'm going around being angry, disappointed, and generally not too pleasant. Alrighty then. If I want to be a happier person then I have to change my reactions to people because I damned sure can't change the other people.

Sigh. . .

Personal growth is not easy.

I Done Been Tagged

I've been tagged by The Silent Male for an interesting little photo thing.

The idea is to post a specific, yet random photo -- specifically (yet, also, randomly...) the 4th photo from the 4th folder. Now, this was a bit of a problem as I don't have four folders of photos. So this is the fourth photo in the last (third) folder. I was surprised that I even had three folders given that I don't even have a digital camera, but then remembered I'd downloaded some photos into folders.

Whatever. Here's the photo I found.


This is N at least a couple of years ago. Obviously, he's a pirate, a fact that you all probably didn't know. Also obviously, he's adorable, but I think I've shared that fact with you before.

Thanks SM for the tag.

Ask Trueself Anything

I did this once before, long ago (actually only about a year and a half ago), and got very few questions, but I provided answers to each and every one.

So if you have any questions you'd like to ask me, anything at all, serious or humorous, about any topic, now's your chance. No question is too stupid. No question is too rude. No question will go unanswered. Leave questions in this post's comments, or if you don't want other readers knowing it was you who asked (I promise not to tell) then send it to me in an email (my email address is in my profile).

New Month Resolutions

Tis the season for New Year resolutions. Now we all know that most of us don’t keep our resolutions very long, or we just forget about them, or life gets too busy, or whatever. Therefore, I’m not making resolutions for the upcoming year. I am making resolutions for the month. At the end of the month, I’ll revisit my resolutions, take stock of how I’m doing, and make resolutions for the next month. Maybe the resolutions for the next month will be the same as the prior month, maybe tweaked a bit, maybe altogether different, but it’s all about trying to get myself on track and keep myself on track. (Hmm, maybe that’s really my New Year resolution: to follow a program of monthly resolutions.)

Without further ado, here are my January resolutions.

In January 2009 I resolve to:

1. Take my meds every day as prescribed.


2. Practice more positive self talk and less negative self talk.


3. Finish the divorce paperwork and file it with the court.


4. Finish the refinancing process.


5. Finish and post the blog post I started recapping 2008


6. Say bad things about Q only on my blog and not to people in real life.

There we go. That’s it, but that’s plenty. We’ll see how I’m doing come the end of the month. Hopefully there are a couple there that won’t have to carry over into February.

Things I Appreciate About Being Home

Having returned home from the minor holiday excursion to my parents’ house, I find that I am grateful to be here, in my own place, with my own rules and schedule and preferences.

I appreciate:

1. setting the thermostat at something less than “Tropical Rain Forest in the Heat of the Day.”


2. eating dinner later than 5:00 p.m.


3. staying up past 9:30 p.m.


4. sleeping on a mattress that is firmer than marshmallows.


5. internet access.


6. tuning the TV to something other than Fox News.

In other news, N has asked that we have a Kwanzaa celebration this year. To that end, I am planning a dinner for tomorrow night where we will light the kinara, have something of a traditional menu (which I’m sure he will not eat so I am trying to modify at least some things so he won’t complain that he will surely starve), and talk about the seven principles. I’m doing this all based on my internet research plus one children’s book N has about Kwanzaa since none of my African American friends celebrate Kwanzaa, a fact that shocked N who is all about exploring all aspects of his African American heritage. I think he feels somewhat betrayed by the local African American community here that they don’t have some big Kwanzaa celebration. So we will start our own Kwanzaa tradition at home and will celebrate it in our own way and make it our own.

Once You Get Past the Crap

Before I head off with N to my parents' house for the long weekend, I thought I should give you some highlights from what went right this Christmas. There was plenty that was great, and as N said to me as I drove him to W's yesterday afternoon, "This is the best Christmas ever even though Christmas Eve was bad."
Highlights from the last two days:

• BJ, N, and I attended the Christmas Eve service at church. It was a great service with much caroling, candlelight, and yummy cookies and wassail afterwards.
• I made a late supper for us that night, simple but delicious. Just a casserole, baked beans, sweet and sour red cabbage and for dessert brownies with ice cream. BJ and N both thought it was great.
• N was thrilled on Christmas morning when he got his Wii from his grandparents and an MP3 player from Santa. He was not as thrilled with his presents from me: two pair of pants and a set of new sheets for his bed. Oh well, at least Santa and the grandparents came through for him.
• I made a delicious Christmas brunch for us: Impossible Broccoli Pie (kind of in between a frittatta and a quiche), Cheesy Grits, Sausage Patties, Blueberry Muffins, and Fresh Fruit Salad. Everybody enjoyed it.
• BJ helped N get the Wii set up while I cleaned up after brunch.
• N played on the Wii until I had to drag him away so he could go spend part of Christmas day with W.
• BJ and I had some nice private adult time after N was at W's, including a nap before getting up to have dinner comprised of leftovers from the Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas brunch.
• BJ and I woke early this morning, enjoyed our time together, got up and went out for breakfast.
• After breakfast, we picked N up at W's. On the way home, N asked if BJ was coming to Grandma and Grandpa's with us. When told no, he begged us for BJ to go. (I am so glad N likes BJ.) We explained that no, BJ can't go as he has to stay here and dogsit for us.

So there you go. Christmas ain't such a bad time after all in spite of a rocky start.

This is my last post until we get back on Monday. I'll still Twitter occasionally though so feel free to check on me there.

Merry Effing Christmas

Okay, Christmas isn't totally effed. As a matter of fact, it's been a pretty darned good Christmas last night and today so far. . . if you ignore the W factor. Generally it's good to ignore the W factor as much as possible. It's harder to ignore the W factor however when it plays on your sympathies. Then if you throw in the Q factor to ice the situation to play upon your inner rage it just becomes a really effing good time.

About three weeks ago, W was going to help Q move to town from her old place. However, he fell and broke two fingers on his right hand. Scrub the moving mission temporarily which was then accomplished last weekend -- with his hand/wrist in a cast. Yesterday, Christmas Eve, W slips on the ice in the parking lot of his apartment building and breaks his left wrist. N doesn't see the fall but sees W on the ground and goes to help. N helps W sit down in the car (closer than going back to the apartment) and goes to the apartment to tell Q what happened. N calls 911 (Q didn't; I don't know why) then calls me telling me that Q said I need to come pick him up due to what's happened. My workday (only a half day due to being Christmas Eve) is virtually over anyway so I pack up and head out. I am almost to the apartment when N calls again. Apparently, the ambulance is there, and Q needs me to get N as soon as possible as she needs to get to her house to take care of her dog. N tells me that Q said she'd come visit W at the hospital later. I said (and yes, I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but I ain't perfect) something to the effect of "Wow, what a great girlfriend she is." Apparently, she overheard this (or N told her) because by the time I got there and got N in the car with me he told me she changed her mind and decided to go to the hospital.

Q was waiting for a taxi to take her to the hospital. N asked if we should offer to take her. I said no. (I was in full bitch mode at that point and fully realize that I should have offered to take her. So sue me.) We followed the ambulance to the hospital, and I assisted the clerk in getting W all signed in while the EMTs got him to a room in the ER. Once signed in, the clerk took us to W's room. I asked him if he would like me to stay or if I should just take N home. He asked if I had plans, and as I was telling him that I had nothing concrete until the Christmas Eve service that evening Q walked into the room. From there, tensions rose. She said things. I said things. Voices elevated. I felt my fists clenching. I decided to leave before I ended up kicked out or worse, arrested for assault and battery. Santa doesn't bring presents to the county jail.

Oh, there is so much more to this story, but I just don't feel like rehashing it one more time. Let's just leave it at N being upset, me being upset, and both of us feeling like Christmas was totally effed.

Suffice it to say that BJ arrived and helped us refocus. We spent a lovely Christmas Eve attending the service at church then having a lovely late supper. BJ spent the night (he slept in my bed, I slept in the extra bed in N's room), and we've shared a lovely Christmas Day so far. We opened presents. We've had a lovely Christmas brunch. BJ has helped N set up his new Wii. Soon it will be time for me to call W and make sure he's still up to having N this evening as was originally planned.

Hope you're all having a very Merry Christmas (without the broken bones, irate exes, snarky girlfriends, and other assorted eff ups).

Let It Be Christmas

by Alan Jackson

Let it be Christmas everywhere
In the hearts of all people both near and afar
Christmas everywhere
Feel the love of the season wherever you are
On the small country roads lined with green mistletoe
Big city streets where a thousand lights glow

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere

Let it be Christmas everywhere
With the gold and the silver, the green and the red
Christmas everywhere
In the smiles of all children asleep in their beds
In the eyes of young babies their first fallen snow
Elderlys' memories that never grow old

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere

Let it be Christmas everywhere
In the songs that we sing and the gifts that we bring
Christmas everywhere
In what this day means and what we believe
From the sandy white beaches where blue water rolls
Snow covered mountains and valleys below

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere
Christmas everywhere
Christmas everywhere

Feeling Particularly Grinchy and Scroogelike

Not in a good mood. Not feeling that joyous Christmas spirit. At this point, ready to have Christmas over and done with. Let’s move on to a new year, a better year than this one has been, ‘kay?

Frustrating, perplexing, not-quite-right things that exist right now:

1. Stupid wet, icy weather is getting me down. I slipped and slid as I walked from car to office this morning. Don’t even want to make the return trip when I leave work.


2. My house is a mess, and I don’t feel up to making it presentable for a proper Christmas celebration.


3. I’ve needed to go grocery shopping all week but have let the stupid weather prevent it. Now I have to do it this afternoon, at the last minute. Yuck.


4. J wants me to meet him for dinner one night while I’m at my parents’ this weekend. There’s a part of me that actually wants to do so. I don’t like that part of me so very much.


5. Was going to wrap presents last night, but N was so miserable at W’s that I rescued him and had him at home with me last night so I still need to wrap presents after I promised myself I wouldn’t wait until Christmas Eve to do it again this year.


6. Even though Q has rented a house she is still living at W’s with him. She has, however, moved her dog into her house. WTF?


7. Trying hard not to get sucked into the role of evil ex bitching about every little thing about new girlfriend. However, it is a role I seem destined to fill. I hate her. I hate every little giggly thing she does. I hate that she is making life even harder for N when he is with W.

Attention! Important Public Service Announcement!

We here at Deepest Darkest Thoughts don’t often use this space for PSAs, but today in the spirit of Christmas, with hearts full of giving, love and in an effort to foster community cooperation, we present to you a short educational piece. Learn it, live it, profit from it by earning the undying admiration of your coworkers.

[Scene: company break room. Two people walking out with full cups of coffee. They are smiling and chatting. One person, empty cup in hand, enters, walks to coffeemaker to see nothing but empty pots.]

Voiceover: How many times has this happened to you? You’re headed to a meeting and just need a hot cup of coffee to keep you alert through that presentation by Accounting on the merits of double declining balance vs. straight line depreciation, and yet when you arrive you find no coffee, and no one has started a fresh pot. But what can you do? You’ve never learned to make coffee. You have no idea how to work such a delicate machine as a coffeemaker. Doomed you head to your meeting without benefit of caffeinated alertness.

[Worker, empty cup still in hand, leaves break room, clearly unhappy and grumbling.]

Voiceover: It doesn’t have to be this way. You, too, can learn to make coffee in your office’s coffeemaker. Watch this demonstration carefully.

[Enter man in suit and tie carrying empty cup along with his Blackberry, folio, and Cross Pen. He sets his things, other than his coffee cup, down on a nearby table and approaches the coffeemaker. He pours the last cup of coffee into his cup.]

Voiceover: The first step will be to locate the necessary items. Often you will find coffee filters and premeasured coffee packets in a drawer or cupboard near the coffeemaker.

[Man opens drawer and removes a coffee filter and coffee packet and sets them on the counter next to the coffeemaker.]

Voiceover [Man doing each step as voiceover describes it]: Remove the basket from the coffeemaker and throw the used filter and coffee grounds into the nearest waste basket. Place the filter in the basket. Now open the packet and dump the ground coffee into the filter. Slide the basket into place in the coffeemaker so that it is placed like it was before you removed it. Make sure the coffee pot is positioned correctly on the warmer to receive the brewed coffee. Locate the button on the machine labeled “Brew” and push it once.

[Man picks up his full coffee cup and other things and walks out of the break room, smiling and greeting two coworkers entering the break room as he walks out. The two coworkers approach the coffeemaker, see the coffee brewing, and smile.]

Voiceover: See? Now wasn’t that easy? Just a couple of minutes of your time can make you more popular with your coworkers than you ever thought.


This public service announcement brought to you by the TS Council for Improved Interoffice Relations and coffee drinkers just like you.

A Fairly Apt Analysis

The following description of me, a first born child, comes from this site which I found by reading a post over at Phyllis Renée's blog. I find the description of the typical first born to be pretty accurate in describing me in a lot of ways. It isn't right on in all areas but darned if it doesn't get most of them right on the button.

FIRST BORN
The first born is an only child until the second child comes to take away mother's attention. The only becomes a first born feeling there is no love for him or her.
Characteristic Bad Feeling: Guilt
Strategies for survival: Placating, Covering Up
Felt Loss: Love
Sense of Justice: People should get what they deserve
Thought Pattern: Research
T-shirt: "I don't know, what do you think?"
Childhood Behavior: Demanding, Show off
Emotional Expression: Flat
Source of Anger: Lack of Respect
Nature of Humor: Teasing
Means of Relating: Placating
Spirituality: Relational
Relational: Fears others may be offended, Placater
The Child Within: Abandoned
Type of Procrastination: Dreaming instead of doing
Blind spot: Own thoughts, feelings, desires
Boundaries: Others have absolute boundaries
A walk in the woods: Plunges into the woods pursuing distant goal
Careers: Business, Research, Counseling, Promotion, Speaking
Strengths: Goal-setting, Compromise, Leadership
Parenting: Directs children towards goals
Marriage: Goes along with what partner wants
As Friend: Compromising, Serving
Social Contributions: Discoveries, Information, Dreams
Expression of Love: Agreement
Driving Style: As if everyone is out to get him or her
Common Phrase: "I don't know"
Responds To: "You may not agree with this, but...."

Concrete, Sequential, Modern and 60% Spiritual

Your Thinking is Concrete and Sequential

You are precise, orderly, and realistic. You tend to get to the point and get things done. Difficult, detailed work is easy for you. You take things step by step. Time limits aren't a problem for you either. You work well with deadlines. What does drive you crazy is any sort of task that isn't precisely laid out. You don't like anything to be ambiguous. You prefer to deal with the facts at hand.

What Kind of Thinker Are You?

Your Christmas is Modern

Your wish for the New Year is more happiness. For you, Christmas is a spiritual holiday. You can't separate it from your beliefs. You are patient when it comes to Christmas. You don't celebrate too early, and you don't like seeing holiday decorations in October. You like Christmas traditions, but you're not uptight about them. You do things your way. You like to celebrate Christmas your own way, and you don't like to have to compromise. You are too busy to really get into Christmas, but you try to do a little to celebrate. You like giving to your friends and family during Christmas. You focus on the people you're close to.

What Does Your Christmas Say About You?

Your Christmas Sprit Level: 60%

You have a lot of Christmas spirit, and it's evident to most people who know you. You love most things Christmas, and you do your best to make sure everyone has a great holiday. While you like the more commercial aspects of Christmas, you truly know what the spirit of Christmas is about. You're all about giving, being kind, and sharing the spirit of Christmas with everyone you know.

Do You Have the Christmas Spirit?

Proof That I'm Growing Up

I went home at lunch to inspect my questionable trees. Aha! In the light of day and with a calm heart and mind I was able to clearly see that there was a very large portion of a tree (found out later it is a Bradford Pear) that had broken away from the part that remained standing. Because of the position of the tree, the errant branch, and the house, it is not immediately obvious that this branch is now more or less detached from the remainder of the tree and resting somewhat against the front wall of the house.

Now comes the part where I had to be a grown up (or at least pretend to be one long enough to take care of business). I have in the course of this afternoon phoned an arborist and my homeowner's insurance company. I have taken calls from representatives from both of the aforementioned parties. I have handled the situation in a most adult and responsible manner and now have a firm plan of action for ridding my property of the offending branch. Who knew I could do that?

While I know many who read this are thinking "Well, of course that's what you would do. What's the big deal?" It is, in fact, a huge deal for me. I had to set aside my phone phobia long enough to just do what had to be done (and right there was a hugely daunting task for me). I had to be willing to talk to people I don't know and trust that they would treat me with dignity and respect (another hugely daunting task for me). So bully for you if you are one who could have done all this without a second thought, but for me this was a big deal and another piece of evidence that I can live on my own and do for myself and not have to count on someone else to take care of me. It is nerve-wracking, but I can do it. Yay me!

Why I Should Not Live Alone

Ahem. . . yes, I perhaps lost it a bit last night as you may have noticed in this last post.

I have never been good with nights, not since I was a small girl who would lay in bed awake in the dark in the middle of the night convinced I was hearing burglers in the house. I was terrified of the burglers but even more terrified of my parents' reaction if I called out for them or got brave enough to go to their room. They were never kind in the middle of the night when roused from slumber for childish fears. So there I would be, in bed, covers pulled up over my head, trying not to move, not to breathe, not to let the burglers I imagined in my head find me. Eventually, exhaustion would force me to sleep.

Fast forward to young adulthood, living with W. Although it didn't happen as frequently as in childhood I would awaken in the night having heard a sound or smelling something odd. Was the sound that of someone breaking into the house? Was that smell a fire starting somewhere in the house? I would wake W, and he, like my parents, would be angry that I bothered him for what would almost always turn out to be nothing. (There were two times however when I was right. One - the creosote in the chimney of our woodstove caught fire thanks to the landlord who assured us that we didn't need to have it cleaned as he always took care of it himself. Right. Two - the time some drunk bastard mistook our home for his friend's place and was trying to get in the sliding glass door. In both cases, W stayed in bed while I got up and dealt with the situation although he did go outside when the firefighters arrived and they asked him to during the chimney fire.)

Fast forward to last night. I was awakened by a very loud crashing sound that rattled the windows in the house. I still don't know what it was for sure. Thunder? Could very well be, but I never heard any more. The falling of the neighbor's tree under the weight of the ice? Could very well be, but somehow it didn't seem like the sound I would've imagined for that. I guess I'll never know for sure other than to be sure it was related somehow to the storm. It scared me a little, but not a lot. I'm a big girl now. I've heard thunder before. I got up and used the bathroom and returned to bed ready to go back to sleep. Then the creaking and cracking and thumping noises began. Sometimes fairly soft, sometimes pretty loud. I freaked. I went through the house, looking out every single window trying to see what was happening. I wondered what I would do if indeed a tree fell on the house. Who would I call in the middle of the night? It didn't seem like a 911 type thing. Yet it didn't seem like the kind of thing that you would want to just wait until morning to handle either if there was damage to the house. I settled on the homeowners' insurance company. That's who I'd call if something happened to the house. Surely they would care about mitigating losses if nothing else.

So I laid in bed, listening, scared to listen, yet scared to not listen, waiting for the end of the world while the rest of the world (both N and the dog) slept peacefully and blissfully unaware. I got on the computer, because that's what I do, and thankfully I found an angel on Twitter who Twittered me through the scariest parts of the night until I was finally ready to try to sleep again.

This morning, in the light of day, it is easier to cope. Daylight does that for me. The neighbor's tree did indeed break under the weight of the ice. It does not appear, however, that it damaged either their house or mine from what I could see. There are a couple of trees in my yard that are questionable. I want to look at them more closely once the ice melts to be sure how much is bent vs. broken.

I survived, but I didn't like it. It isn't the way I want things to be. I want to have someone to whom I can turn when shit like this happens, for help or at least just for company so I'm not so very alone. I hate being alone.

The Weather Outside is Frightful

Good morning blogosphere! Here I am at 2:45 a.m. freaking out. Absofuckinglutely freaking out.

There is rain outside, lots of rain. There is also, from what I can see, a really heavy layer of ice on the roof (my bedroom window looks out onto a portion of the roof) and the trees outside. Occasionally, there are really scary sounds from outside. . . like trees breaking. At one point, after scary noises, I toured the entire house checking for damage and found none.

The fucking satellite TV isn't working, probably the dish is iced over. All the radio stations seem to be playing syndicated nationwide programming without any local coverage. So here I am on the internet, looking for peace and calm and a friend to help me calm down here.

I am all fucking alone here people. All alone. Middle of the night. Scared. Everything looks worse in the middle of the night. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. Except in the middle of the night. When the scary noises happen.

Praying for sunrise here people. Praying for sunrise. . .

Yeah, Whatever

You Mostly Have Your Emotions in Check

Sometimes your emotions get out of control, but you usually are a pretty stable person. You can find a lot to be happy about, as long as things are going your way. But if a few bad things happen to you, you tend to go in a bit of a downward spiral. Luckily, you usually come out of it okay and no worse for the wear.

Can You Keep Your Emotions in Check?

You Are a Friendly Ex

While the guys you've dated haven't been perfect, you've kept most as friends In fact, one or two of your exes may be your best friends - after all, they know you best And though your mature attitude is awesome, make sure nothing gets too weird Or else you could lose these friendships, simply because your exes' new women think you're *too* friendly

What Kind of Ex-Girlfriend Are You?

Shallow Stereotypes R Us

I wrote this post back in September. I'm not sure now why I didn't post it then, but I didn't. When going back through my drafts though I found it, read it, and thought it ought to be published because I like what it says. I wrote this fairly soon after McCain selected Palin as his VP candidate. I didn't know as much about her then as I learned later. This was pretty much my "initial reaction" to her after her first week or so on the campaign trail. And I'm posting this because I'm tired of all the stuff I've been talking about lately and wanted a change of pace, a different focus. This post is certainly that.


The whole thing about Sarah Palin is disturbing to me. I want to like her. I want to be proud that a woman is in her position. I want to be able to say “Yay! A woman might make it to the White House!” But I can’t. I just can’t.

It has nothing to do with whether or not she tried to ban books. It has nothing to do with her continuing to tout the claim that she pulled the plug on the bridge to nowhere while failing to mention that she only did that after the federal government pulled some of the funding away. No, it has nothing to do with any of that.

Here, for me, is what it does have to do with. I do not trust Sarah Palin. I may be an oddball, but I never trust a woman who wears enough makeup to make me notice that she wears makeup. In my experience, most women who wear a goodly amount of makeup are, in many ways, more style than substance. They worry more about the packaging than the contents. Sorry, but I want someone with true intelligence and leadership skills and less polish and style. (Yes, I realize that Obama has a lot of polish and style. I never said he was perfect, nor did I ever say that I totally trust him either. At least he has been able to show me some of his intelligence to help me get over it.) The women I have known in my lifetime with the most intelligence and the most wisdom and the ones I would trust most to have the power to start nuclear war generally don’t give a crap about what they look like.

I definitely stereotype women right from the get go. Do I see your lipstick before I can clearly see your face? I pretty much write you off as having little sense, and you’re still a half block away. As you get closer do I notice that you have on eye shadow, eyebrow penciled in eyebrows, a little too much blush, so much mascara and eye liner that you’re scaring small children? I roll my eyes and wonder just who you think might be impressed by that. As we meet face to face, can I clearly see that you are wearing foundation and/or powder? If it is obvious then I chalk you up as one of those women, the ones who are all about looks and spend more time reading Redbook or Cosmo than Time or Newsweek. Now I'm not saying Palin's makeup is garish, not at all. Most women, those who wear makeup, would probably think Palin's is well done. I don't. I don't want to notice that you have makeup on at all, and with Palin it is obvious to me that she does.

Is it right for me to stereotype women this way? Probably not. Yet I do. I do, and then you have to prove yourself to me that you are better than what your makeup and perfectly coiffed hair says to me. So far Palin has not proven herself to me. She has failed to make me see beyond the dolled up librarian look that she seems to have all the time. She looks way too Republican and probably appeals to Republicans because of her look.

I think of the women I see in my church whom I admire most. They are neat, well groomed, but down to earth. They wear little if any makeup. Their hair is neat, but in an easy wash and wear kind of style. Their clothing looks comfy but nice, and they wear nice comfortable-looking sensible shoes. These women in no way look dowdy, just comfortable. They project that they are comfortable in their own skin and have no need for pretension. They are self-confident and more concerned with substance than style.

Hmm, no wonder I was such a Hillary supporter.

I Thought It Was a Good Thing, But. . .

Yesterday I get this letter from my dad (maybe he's phone phobic too; I don't know; we've never talked about it), and in it he offers to provide me with a no interest loan I need to pay off W for his equity in the house so that I don't have to go through a bank.

At first, I was thrilled. I thought my prayers had been answered and that everything was going to be fine. Then, upon more thinking and talking to someone about it I'm afraid that maybe it isn't such a fine thing. The friend I talked to said something about maybe it should have been a gift rather than a loan. At first, that offended me.

Upon thinking about it though I realize that as a loan it does give them more oversight authority over me. Perhaps it will be too difficult feeling that every purchase I make will be scrutinized by the very people I worked so hard to become independent from. Perhaps it would be better to pay the interest and points and so forth to go through with the refinancing rather than allowing them to help me.

I don't know. I'm confused now. I'm going to have to think about this some more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
UPDATE: 10:45 a.m.

Thought it through. Realized what the right answer is.

I’m 47 years old. I need to stand on my own two feet. I have no business taking money from my parents whether it’s a loan or a gift. I got myself into my situation and it is up to me to get myself out of it. What ever possessed me to think that I ought to take money from them? Yeah, yeah, it was the easy way out. It made things look brighter when I first read the letter. But it’s wrong. It is so very wrong. I do not need a hand out from anyone, not even my parents. I’ve already compromised myself enough by letting them help with Christmas (not that they intended to help with Christmas, but I used their Christmas present to me to make Christmas for N and to pay bills instead of to get something for myself so maybe I didn’t compromise myself too badly. . . yet). Damn, it was way too easy for me to almost say yes to the easy way out. It’s a good thing the offer came in a letter. At least this way they’ll never know I almost said yes. This way they will never have to know that I wavered. OMG, I almost became as bad as my freeloading brother. There but for the grace of God go I. . .

The Great Christmas Goody-Making Extravaganza of 2008

Short version: A good time was had by all.

Now don’t tell me that you actually expected me, the most verbose accountant in the history of blogging, to stop at the short version, did you? No, of course not. You know me much better than that.

BJ came over yesterday afternoon. He came with the makings for chocolate dipped pretzels and the most delightful chocolate dipped peanut butter and cracker concoction that ever existed. I provided the kitchen, the utensils, and the enthusiastic 10-year-old assistant chef. While I was waiting for the butter to soften to make sugar cookies, they got right to work on their project. It was good that BJ and N worked the chocolate dipped pretzels together. I’m way too anal retentive and/or OCD to do it. For me, making chocolate dipped pretzels is a long arduous process of taking one pretzel, dipping it in the chocolate, fishing it out with a fork, raking the bottom of the fork along the side of the bowl to remove the excess chocolate and carefully laying the pretzel on waxed paper making sure the pretzels are not touching so they don’t stick together. Contrast this with BJ and N’s way of dumping a handful of pretzels in the chocolate, using a spoon (a spoon!) to fish them out and lay them on the waxed paper, worrying not at all that some pretzels end up with globs of chocolate adhered to them while others have a relatively thin coating, and occasionally two or three pretzels end up glued together via the chocolate coating due to their touching or even overlapping one another. My process takes hours and hours and leads to tension and frustration. Their process takes a much shorter time and leads to fun and laughter. It was good that I was more observer than participant in that project.

I made turtles, with N’s help, out of pretzels, Rolo candies, and pecan halves. I tried to follow their example and be all willy nilly, spreading the pretzels on the cookie sheet without making neat rows and columns of pretzels all turned the same direction. I tried, but I couldn’t do it, or I should say, I couldn’t entirely do it. I had to have the rows and columns so I knew how many pretzels I had so I knew how many Rolos to unwrap. I didn’t, however, make sure all the pretzels were turned the same direction. Also while I managed to put the pecan halves on without regard to how they aligned with the pretzel, I still insisted they must be intact pecan halves and not have pieces broken off of them. Hey, at least I lightened up a little, and it didn’t kill me. It didn’t even hurt too badly. Sigh. . . Yeah, there’s a reason I’m an accountant.

The last project in the kitchen (other than cleaning up, which ended up being mostly my job somehow) was making sugar cookies. I was mostly on my own for that one as BJ and N were trying to fix up the Christmas tree that N has dubbed the Charlie Brown tree. Thanks to BJ we now have a tree that is standing straight instead of leaning like it ought to be in Pisa, and most of the lights are working. Hallelujah! Now we can actually decorate the thing! (I kept putting that off because I couldn’t get the thing to stand up straight, and I was afraid it would fall over. I didn’t want ornament breakage if I could help it.)

All in all, it was a really great time. I had fun. N had fun. BJ had fun. It almost felt – dare I say it – like family time. As I mentioned to BJ it was the kind of time I’d always wanted in the past, but W wouldn’t ever do that sort of thing with N and me. W, being as much or more a perfectionist than I am, would have had to have had everything just so, and would have been unable to let N do it any other way but his. BJ, on the other hand, just showed N what to do and let him go with it. I can’t begin to say how much I appreciated the way they interacted – a whole afternoon without shouting, crying, temper tantrums, major pouting, or anything. What a contrast to what I was used to from the past.

Good times, people, good times.

A Bulldog? Really?!?

STFU, Good Advice for Many

(After listening to W go on and on over the phone about Q and “their” new house and how she’s moving this weekend and he’ll move when his lease is up in March and how it has three bedrooms and a garage and yadda, yadda, yadda. . .)

TS: Um. . . I’m going to. . . uh. . . say something. . . I mean. . . I want to. . . uh. . . um. . .

W: Go ahead. Say what you want to say.

TS: Okay, I’m going to say this once, and then I will never speak of it again.

W: Okay.

TS: I’m concerned that you’re moving awfully quickly, and I hope you don’t get hurt. It just seems like you are rushing things with her. Okay, there it is. I’ve said it, and I won’t bring it up again.

W: I appreciate it. (Not 100% sure whether he meant my telling him or my not telling him again although my guess would be the latter.)

SILENCE

W: Okay, well bye.

TS: Bye.

(He’s called three more times today since then, always with a “perfectly legitimate” reason to need to talk to me even though all that he called about could have been done via e-mail. Feeling a little bit lonely buddy now that Q is working? What is it that you want here? Why do I care? And could you stop telling me all about how wonderful Q is in every stinkin’ way? Who cares? Who the f*** cares? I get it! You got a girlfriend, one who wants to live with you and be with you always and bend over backwards for you. Great. Good. Wonderful. Now STFU please. I have my own issues to deal with thank you very much.)

I swear I’ve tried to ignore it, to just smile and nod and mentally roll my eyes, but I finally just had to say something. I had to or my head would have exploded, and that would have made such a mess for the janitorial service to clean up in my cubicle. So yeah, I’m a petty jealous bitch. There ya’ go. Taking the high road takes a lot out of a girl, and sometimes the low road beckons so enticingly it becomes impossible not to go there.

Don't Know What This Says About Me

I don't remember where I got this. I'm sure I stole it from someone else's blog. I don't know. It's been sitting around waiting to be completed for a while. So here it is.

Copy and paste and pick between the following. (Sarcasm is recommended). Then pick 4 other bloggers needing a psychological profile. (I ain't doin' that part. You wanna steal it? Steal it. You don't? Then don't. Easy as that.)

1---Soda v. Pop. Are they not the same thing? Because I've lived in various parts of the country, and some say soda and some say pop while referring to the same products. I currently live in a "Pop" area of the country so I'm trying to change myself back to saying "Pop." However, more often than not I still say "Soda."
2---Regular v. Diet Soda. Diet if I'm being good.
3---Diet Coke v. Diet Pepsi. Diet Coke without any question.
4---Beer v. Wine. Wine unless I'm having pizza. Pizza just begs for beer to accompany it. (Or maybe it's all that beer that makes me think the pizza is saying anything.)
5---White Wine v. Red Wine. Why yes thank you I'll have both. It just depends on what's being served with it.
6---Panty v. Underwear. Underwear if I'm being general or panty if I'm being specific to that type of underwear.
7---Thong v. Other. Other unless it's someone else wearing it.
8---Silk v. Cotton. Cotton. It must be cotton.
9---Boxers v. Briefs. How about boxer briefs?
10---McDonald's v. Burger King. BK for the fish sandwiches and Mickey D's for the french fries.
11---Chocolate v. Vanilla. Chocolate, of course!
12---Sweet v. Savory. Depends on the time of month.
13---Plaid v. Solids. Solids almost always.
14--- Flats v. Heels. Flats, and I still fall down too much.
15---Automatic v. Stick Shift. Automatic.
16---Black v. White. I prefer biracial thanks.
17---Cursive v. Printing. Depends, for my signature I prefer cursive, in a hurry I prefer cursive, if I want to be able to read it later I have to print.
18---Length v. Girth. Girth, too much length is painful.
19---Butter v. Margarine. Butter, gotta have the real deal.
20---Paula Dean v. Rachel Ray. Dean, gotta have the real deal.

Ho, ho, ho!

Christmas is a bummer this year in some ways. It will certainly not be like Christmases of recent past for N and me. It will not be filled with (relatively) expensive (relatively) frivolous gifts. There is no money for that. There is, thanks to my parents, money enough to have a few gifts under the tree from Santa and from me. The best gift, though, in N's eyes will surely be the Wii that N is receiving from his Grandma and Grandpa. Normally, I might be a bit peeved that they were providing a more lavish present than I can provide for N. However, this year is not normal. This year I will get what I can for N without spending a great deal.

Although I am the first to say that Christmas should not be about the presents and how much money is spent, it is hard for me not to be so much involved on the giving end this year. In the past I have given not only to N, but I've made sure that we've given to local toy drives and food drives and all manner of charitable giving in celebration of the holidays. This year I feel bad, not because of things I won't get but because of things that I won't give. I won't take a tag off the Angel Tree and buy a child something to make their Christmas a little merrier. I won't write a substantial check for the church's Christmas offering. It is indeed the giving I will miss. There is no greater joy than giving.

I feel miserly that I am not giving more this year. Just reading the stories and knowing the economic situation I know that there are more people out there than ever that need a bit of help making Christmas for their families this year. Yet the rational part of my brain tells me that nobody can be expected to give more than what they have. It would not be right for me to give and simply put my little family into debt to do so. So I guess I'll live with having to focus on providing Christmas for N, be thankful I'm not one who needs to turn to a charity (other than my parents) for presents for him, and hope there are others out there who have enough that they can give to those charities that won't be receiving from me this year.

Well, Now It Makes Sense

I couldn't understand why I wasn't being appointed to the U.S. Senate seat left vacant when Obama became president-elect. Given that all I could offer Blago was to bake him a batch of brownies now it all makes sense. Sigh. . .

Politics as usual in the state of Illinois.

I'll Hang Around as Long as You Will Let Me

I had this post all written, but somehow Blogger ate it. So here's the recreated version, a mere shadow of the original.


This post is an attempt to make sense of my nonsense. As I wrote it the first time I came around to some insights into myself and my relationships with men. These insights are things that I know, and I know that I know these things, but occasionally I need something to hit me upside the head to remind me. Whack! That's what writing this post did for me. Then Blogger ate it, and to tell you the truth maybe that's a good thing. I think the way it was written could have caused me more problems than I need. Hopefully, I can word things better (like not calling myself a sleazy skanky whore) this go round.

What I've been thinking about, and trying to figure out, has to do with my reactions to three men -- W, J, and BJ. The last 2-3 weeks I've been a big pile of emotions, not all of which made me very proud of myself. I have reacted badly to things that all three of these men have said and/or done.

First, I struggled with W being with Q. I've said over and over that it's just all about N and what impact it has on him. Yes, and denial is more than a river in Egypt. Truth be told I felt like I lost W in a way that I hadn't before. Between Q moving in and me finding out about the financial crater W's dug for himself it became crystal clear to me that there is no possibility of turning back now. It is over -- for real and for good. Even though I've said for the longest time that's what I wanted, and I truly believe we are better without each other than with each other, there's this part of me that wanted, and wants, to still hang on to W and can't quite let go.

Second, I think I reacted to J's email like I did because on some level even though I know that when we're around each other a lot he drives me batty I still can't quite shake the "what could have been" thoughts, and I kind of like having him there for me (and it's been that way since my college days) when I want him there for me. Anyway, part of me was just plain ticked that he could move on and marry #3 rather than pine away for me.

Then the third thing is about BJ. I spent a good part of the last two weekends being peeved at BJ for little things, but mostly it all came down to his feline-like independence and aloofness running afoul of my puppy dog-like clinginess. I want more than anything for this man to want me, to want to spend time with me, to share in my life with me and to let me share in his life with him. Too much of the time I feel like there’s a bubble around him, an invisible barrier that I can’t penetrate. I want him to yearn for me the way I yearn for him, to have spending time with me be a priority for him like it is for me. Instead I get time with him when it suits him and his schedule. If we have a weekend available to us, he’ll spend time doing this and that and sundry things while I wait for him to be ready to spend time with me. I feel like I am forever waiting for it to be my turn to have his attention for a while. Is it a philosophy of “always leave them wanting more”? I don’t know, but I indeed do want more. I want to be his priority even sometimes. I want him to be willing to sacrifice sleeping in just every once in a while to do something that I want to do together. I want him to see me as being as important as a good night’s sleep, and right now I feel like I will never achieve that level of importance to him. I will never ever be anything but second to his desire to sleep late, and no matter how hard I try (and believe me I’ve tried and tried) I can’t seem to let go of the hurt I felt when he refused to come hear me preach at church simply because it was too early in the day for him. I will always be the one to compromise my schedule to fit his. This is my fear. Sometimes I wonder if it is his way of getting back at me for me having N as my number one priority.

Okay, so I put all of these things together along with one of the insights I'd had in my "Weight Weight Don't Tell Me" series of posts where I said "It seemed that nobody could ever give me enough comfort, enough love, enough reassurance to make me feel good about myself. It would be a long time before I would come to the understanding that I had to look inside myself for that, not out to the rest of the world, or the next unlucky guy that asked me out on a date." Here's what I get out of all of this: because I don't feel secure enough in my relationship with BJ I feel a need to grasp at the bits and pieces that other men are out there offering me no matter how little or how inadequate they are. I'm trying to somehow piece together a comfort level for myself, and it simply isn't working for me.

If I were a stronger person it would be easier to turn my back on W and on J, and put my energies only into my relationship with BJ knowing that if it didn't work out in the end that I'd be fine on my own. As it is, I don't feel that I'd be fine on my own so rather than risk ending up on my own if somehow things didn't work out with BJ I cling to whatever small pieces are available to me from others. Now, the ironic thing is that by my very act of clinging to those pieces I could very well push BJ away thereby bringing about the very thing that I'm trying to avoid.

And it all boils down to this -- I need to become more secure in myself, to trust that I can take care of myself and don't need to have a man there to shore me up. Only when I can do that am I going to be any good as a partner for anybody.

Positive Self Talk, I Haz It

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