Surreality is...

This is interesting. Weird. Lovely. Scary. Exactly what I've craved.

This living together, with my kids, in this house. Waking up every day next to each other. We hadn't done that except on trips. Now knowing that we will be seeing each other in all our glory and gory for as long as we can stand it. Excuse me while I clean out my eye-boogers before he wakes up.

I still have so much doubt that I'll live up to certain expectations, my own mainly. That, though I've managed to portray myself exactly as I am, I still won't be good enough. Because I really wasn't good enough before. Not according to some others' standards. Some insecurities are best left to children. But aren't we all just a bit child-like? No matter what anyone says, if you don't have SOME kind of doubts about yourself, or question your own motives and worry about what others think, then you're an egotistical douchebag. 


During my move into his house this weekend, I was overwhelmed. And more than a bit grumpy on a number of occasions from the sheer stress of it all. I tend to be shorter tempered than most when tired but kept myself under control. Then he'd crack a joke, I'd laugh or merely smirk at the absurdity and keep going. My mom was stunned at how neither of us snapped at each other and we just seemed happy instead of strained. Our house is a mess, boxes everywhere; I have no idea where anything is. Each box seems to have a surprise in it. And that bothers me. The clutter is causing me to have OCD and I may become a crack fiend to calm my nerves. I still have work to accomplish for clients and way too much to pack before we go on vacation tomorrow. IF I can find where I put our clothes and camping gear. 


It's a lot to absorb for all of us. So much change. So little time to adjust.

He'll have to get use to me laughing a bit too loud and finding my hairballs laying around, to being a stickler for manners and having a clutter free house. And to get use to having children in his house again.

I'll have to get use to him being a procrastinator and paper hoarder, to having a penchant for riling my kids up before bedtime, and the weird sleeping positions he has that look entirely too uncomfortable.

We'll both adjust to the eccentricities of our mothers, bless them both. To our siblings and their opinionated thoughts on our living situation and the ways of our relationship.

A family isn't perfect. We will never profess to be so. That frailty and fallibility is the most beautiful part of being human. Neither of us is perfect and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Shaken, not stirred

I like a good cocktail, though I'm more of the flavored drink kind of gal. I even prefer a dark or amber beer to the light stuff because I want it to have oomph. If I wanted a flavorless beverage, I'd choose water. And I like my life to be the same. Full of flavor, vitality, tang, spice.

Today though, I'm going with water. I'm keeping these emotions in check and to myself today. I need a calm thirst quencher to keep from getting drunk on feelings. There's too much to do today to become overwhelmed with emotional turmoil.

But here's my recipe for the weirdest L.I.T.:

3 parts Elation
2 parts Bitter
1 part Joyful Expectation
1/4 tsp. Confusion
1/2 tsp. Awkward
Several slices of Giddy
A squeeze of Exhausted Patience
Pinch of Regret
Dash of Fear
Sprinkle of Hope

Shake well, serve over ice. Don't forget the umbrella.

CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!

While cleaning the smog of rumors in my professional airspace, I'm cleaning up our house to be more presentable while I move in. It's a big job, what with this house being huge. We'll definitely have to have a garage sale! The scorching temps in the 100s don't bother me half as much since we have a pool to cool off in too. Now if the Major can just hurry on HOME.

Life is good, my friends. VERY good.

Clearing the Air

Just going to leave this right here for your perusal:

It always amazes me what people will gossip about. Some terribly funny gossip about me came back this morning and I had a hearty laugh about it. Because it's all false. Not even a lick of truth to it. I'm not going to repeat it here or anywhere else because frankly, it would be repeated with a new twist, I'm sure. On one hand, it sends traffic to my Facebook and to this blog. On the other, it makes those spreading the rumors look silly and completely unprofessional.

To dispel the rumors though, this is what I do: I am a social media consultant and strategist. I help manage social media sites, websites and blogs for different companies as a freelance consultant. I write press releases, promote various events and products and write blogs. I'm not doing anything questionable nor shameful. I am in control of myself and a professional at all times. My discipline involves the hard work I do for others; my fetish, the written word.

So people, knock it off. My respect for you has dropped several notches. If you want to continue to be rumor-mongers, go right ahead. It neither hurts my credibility nor the companies I work for. If anything, it makes them and me more popular.

Silly, silly people.

Gold, Silver, Platinum - Find Your Value

Make new friends

But keep the old.

One is silver

and the other gold.

The Scouts had it almost right. Old friends are usually silver, cherished but not tarnished. Reminders of other times when our youthful friendships were changeable. Gold friends, though newer, are sometimes more valuable because they are made when we are wiser, more choosy in our friendships. And then, there are the friendships the old song doesn't talk about. 

Platinum friendships are forged early, stronger to last thru tough times. These friends will never leave you, no matter how much you piss them off, which you undoubtedly will, if you are able to be truly honest with them and yourself. They are also the least understood, infinitely rarer. My Major has one of these with his ex and it's been an honor to watch the grace with which they've treated each other thru a divorce and beyond.

How could a couple travel the world together, figure out being married wasn't for them as a couple and yet remain so close? The reasons for the split are only between them or what they choose to share with others. However, it was cause for much needless speculation by friends and family. They all had their own opinions and still gossip about why they stay friends. I barely understand it myself, some days. 


But I'm proud of them. Earlier in February, he kept a promise made more than a year prior that he would go with her family on a trip. Despite some awkwardness, they had a wonderful time and I approved. This week, as I prepare to move in with him, he'll be driving her across country back to Canada. She's spent quite a bit of time with him and his son this week since there's no telling when she'll get to see them again. She's the Major's best friend and I approve.


I have a similar friendship with my ex. He's a great father to our kids though we weren't right for each other. But we still laugh together, still text each other, share stories. Some days are easier than others, and we piss each other off because our communication styles are different. But we mean well. 


So today I'll say again how proud I am of the Major and A. She deserves every happiness and I know she'll find it. And I hope she comes back to visit. 

A circle is round

and has no end.

That's how long

I want to be your friend.

Hope, you'd BETTER stay in that box!

It's been an up and down day and it's not even over yet. After a fairly sleepless night, I hoped for an impromptu lunch date which unfortunately was dashed for more pressing issues. Then finding out I needed a judge's signature first for some paperwork A and I signed for our decree before officially filing it. Lo and behold, the judge is out until Monday, after running up and down three flights of stairs. Seriously? In this heat and in a skirt, I need some powder for the chaffing.

Renewed vigor to pack like a fiend when I returned home only to get discouraged at the sheer amount of packing I needed to do. Now I really need lunch since I skipped breakfast. *stomach growl* And I have a ton of posts to schedule for clients before next week.

But I've set up a little mansion for Hope, who's been residing in Pandora's Box these last couple of years. She's quite comfortable and at home. So anything else that could possibly go wrong today will be okay.

I'm not invincible. But I AM flexible. Look Ma! I'm a bendy weeping willow! I'm going with the flow. Because the next week will be harder, both physically and emotionally.

But I've got Hope in a box and that chick is sipping margaritas by the pool while the hot cabana boy gives her a rubdown. I sure hope lunch is served soon or I'm going to eat her.

Humility can be a bitch with a big stick

I haven't felt terribly generous of late.

My time, at least according to me, is too precious to be given to just anyone. Especially when it comes to my loved ones. My boyfriend's (The Major) son is in town visiting and I understand all too well his need to have alone time with him, since he never gets to see him. Unfortunately, his ex-wife also lives here and wanted to see him before she moves back to her home country.

Now, don't get me wrong. She's a lovely person and was his stepmother for 11 years, most of his childhood. There's no telling when she might see him again once she moves. I was quite upset, however, to realize she wanted that precious timeslot allotted to ME in which to meet him with The Major. I already had rearranged my schedule for this dinner, prepared myself mentally to welcome someone else into my life and hoping to be accepted into his. I'm the one who has to make concessions, because she is still a very important person in their lives.

Cue Lindsey.

"Lindsey" is someone we've named as my green-eyed inner demon. She's the worst part of me I keep caged and for good reason. This monster can be the most vicious, conniving and petty sliver of non-humanity known. She bites with words, snapping and snarling, when I don't get my way. She can't strike out physically, just emotionally and mentally against others, leaving far deeper scars. And she serves only me. My selfish little beastie.

Lindsey ranted and raved in private; whimpered and pouted. Narrowed her eyes against the world and threw far too many verbal bombs than is necessary.

Then an email came in from a client who just returned from a trip with her husband. I leave out her name as kindnesses should be felt, not named. But thank you, MB, for holding up that harsh glaring mirror.

Her story: When I was in Seattle last week, I was taking pictures in a very quaint area called Pioneer Square Park.  There was a homeless man about my age at Pioneer Square that was sitting on a park bench.  He saw what I was doing with the iPad and asked "Is that a camera?"  I said that it was and took a picture of him and showed it to him.  He asked if I could send it to him for his daughter's birthday this week.  He didn't have email, so he gave me a card that showed his name and that he was staying at Lazarus Day Center (which is why I gather he's homeless or in rehab or something).  I wasn't able to print it and mail it because of our Internet problems (since the printer was wireless) and I was beside myself, so I called a FedEx Kinko's up there and I explained the situation and asked if I could upload the photo, have them print two copies on glossy photo paper and have them deliver them to him.  The very patient young gal I talked to through my tear said yes, I could email it to her.  I asked if she wanted to take my credit card info over the phone.  She said "This one's on me and I'll walk it over there to him at the Lazarus Day Center on my lunch hour.  Hope you had a great time in Seattle."  There are truly good people in this world."


So why tell this story? Because that one paragraph was Humility herself beating back the jealous little demon. Showing me that kind people take time out of their lives to do things for other people they don't know or should even care about.

Humility carried a freaking big stick and Lindsey is, for now, subdued, black and blue. I may not get to spend those few precious hours with The Major and his son yet. But I need to remember I'll be part of their lives forever.

I've already won the largest prize at the fair. Let someone else have the tin whistle.

Update: Surprise dinner with The Major and son tonight. Sometimes, patience really is a virtue.

Call me Paddington

I'm surrounded by boxes.

Most full, some only half so, waiting the final fill and to be thrown into a moving truck. I figured out it was cheaper to rent a van/truck (whatever the hell they call it) instead of using our cars and my mom's truck plus the gas money for multiple trips. I'd rather move it all at once, start unpacking and begin the process of living.

It's bad enough I'll have to clean up (No, he's not a slob; just never really used his house to its full potential over the last year, so it's dusty as sin) before I officially move in. So only the essentials will be in the house while everything else sits in the garage. But I've been in such a state of flux in the last year, I'm lucky I don't set a lit match to everything or have an estate sale and just start over.

I hate moving, only because of the stress of where to put all the boxes while I'm trying to pack and living in the space at the same time. The clutter is killing me. I've turned to meditation and deep breathing to keep from killing others around me. Thank god for cleaning out excesses. I have some pageant dresses, a TV and various and sundry to sell if anyone wants them. PLEASE?

No one has asked to help and I haven't sought any help.

Frankly, I'm leery of something being broken again. Seems every move I've had, something gets broken needlessly: some old candle holders. The crystal chalices from my first wedding. My china hutch. I've packed and padded the breakables as much as possible though the antique furniture has me the most worried. There's a tight fit to the narrow staircase in my apartment.

*I* may need the padding (a padded cell) when this is all over.

Heave, HO!

My life has been in upheaval over the last two years. Too much has gone on and more on the way soon and I'm finding myself reflecting, making amends for hurts I've caused, wondering on the good I hope I've done, emotions swirling.

Apologizing for killing a relationship that probably shouldn't have started but for which I'm so richly blessed thru the creation of my boys because of it. I'm extremely thankful to the man who loved me and wanted it to work, despite our differences. We're finding I don't have to be so involved in his life, being his mother and not letting him make his own decisions, to make him happy. Together, we were good: good friends and good parents. Apart, we're even better, happier even, and we strive to make the new changes work, not only for ourselves but our boys. He's found someone with whom he's completely compatible and I've found the person who's perfect for me.

Learning I can stand strongly on my own: physically during extreme sports; mentally during the divorce and loss of three jobs in a year; monetarily (for the most part) by starting my own business. Finding that setting up payment options for bills I owe doesn't make me a bad person. It just makes me human because at least I'm trying to pay them back and not being lazy. Feeling a sense of accomplishment when a bill is paid off and I'll never see it again.

Amending wrongs caused either through actions and words or the lack thereof. I apologized yesterday to a lovely woman who didn't deserve to be bad-mouthed by a horrible person and yet, I didn't stand up for her at the time. I spilled my guts to her and said how sorry I was for being such a coward. And told her some of the awful things that were said, so she'd know. I can only hope some other friends of mine can be as kind.

Being even more grateful for the love of a man who completely understands me. With whom I'm about to start a new life. Feeling bad for some "friends" who've decided to listen to rumors and not confront me personally because of this new love. Who've judged our relationship without getting the full story and who now prefer the company of those who perpetuate the lies. I'm sad for the loss of these friendships but grateful I didn't get sucked in more to their juvenile antics.

Feeling scared for the journey I'm embarking on, mainly because it doesn't just involve me but also my kids, who are looking forward to the changes too. Feeling overwhelming joy at knowing what's ahead and knowing we can make it work because of all the trials we've experienced and the love we have for each other.

Just feeling and being blessed that I'm human, able to absorb it all and sort it out.

This will be one helluva journey. Take it with me?