Sunday, October 24, 2010

Finding My Way

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.  ~Anaïs Nin

This quote pretty much sums up the last few weeks.  I've wanted to post but couldn't find the emotional or mental strength to make the words make sense. 

For several weeks I've really been struggling to self-discover.  I have a vague idea of what I want out of  my life, but I question every step - "Is it something I want for myself, or is it merely something I want to do so I look a certain way to the outside world ?"  This is the question I have struggled with my whole life.  I have always believed I don't care what "the world" thinks of me, but deep down I think I care too much.  Not when it comes to clothes or style or hair, but in the choices I make for my life and where they lead me.  Did I pick the right degree? The right husband? The right job?  I'm starting to realize if I am truly happy, that is all that is going to matter to those that matter to me.

(This is the part where I start tearing up, because even though this is a blog post, sometimes I don't realize these things until my fingers put them on the screen.)

My biggest failure to myself is not being able to put my needs out there, to ask and sometimes demand what I need from others.  Then I struggle when those around me under deliver.  One thing I've learned over the last two years is that I really can't be mad or disappointed with someone if I haven't told them what I need.  We aren't mind readers.  So my goal has been to put myself out there, but that is so much easier said than done.

Therein lies the cause of my funk for the last few weeks and also the resolution of it.  I have needed more from cute boy, I've talked about needing more with my friends, talked about telling him what I needed and then failed miserably when I tried.  While I have this incredible need to be honest, I have this fear of being alone.  I fear if I'm honest, he'll walk away, which honestly, is exactly what I should want him to do if he's not open to listening and discussing these things with me.  So I let it stew inside me until I did something I hate about myself.  I sent a text with my disappointment for him not having made plans to at least see me on one of my days off.  This was a mere three days after we'd had a great night out together.  I was a total crazy girl.

But, it did what I needed it to do, it forced my hand.  Instead of running, he came here.  He forced me to talk.  I told him what I needed, he told me that he still doesn't know where he stands.  We were honest with one another and at this point that is EXACTLY what I need.  I'm okay with him not knowing, I was struggling with feeling like he didn't want to see me, when in reality, he's just dealing with things himself.   I can trust now, that if we go a few days without talking, it's not me...it's just time for me to take advantage of taking care of myself without the distractions of dimples.

So, at this point I'm asking myself, I started this post talking about self-discovery and ended talking about a cute boy.  Seems counter-productive, but it isn't.  Since I was 16, I have never gone more than six months without a boyfriend in my life. Ever.  That's 19 years with constant companionship and not once have I told any of them what I needed until now.  I'm changing the way I work, how my mind processes and trying to teach myself it's okay to ask for what you need and to walk away when you don't get it.  I don't want to walk away from this one, I think he's a keeper (he's the first one that hasn't run from having to "talk" about things) but I am fully prepared to do so if it's not healthy for me.

I have a deadline.  I'm a planner and I know if I don't challenge myself I will sit around waiting for him to make up his mind forever.  I'm worth more than that.

In January I start classes to finish my degree.  Once I complete my Bachelors, I intend to go on for my Masters.  This is something I am doing for me.  To prove that I can finish it.  I need to be able to focus on school and not be distracted by a relationship that I don't feel secure in.  So come January, I either know where I stand here and I am able to focus on school, or I am walking away and eliminating the distraction and focusing on school. 

I know come January that my decision to walk away may change, something may happen that makes me realize I can't put a limit on how quickly the pieces fall into place, but by throwing a time frame out there it allows me to have a check-in to make sure I am where I need to be to succeed.  

I don't know that I have blossomed yet, but I can feel it coming.

M

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Life is simple, it's just not easy. ~Author Unknown

I'm at a crossroads in my life. 

I have a cute boy that I really like, but who has said on several occasions that he doesn't know what he's looking for... usually in the sentence just prior to or after he tells me that he likes me.  I spent two years trying to get off the roller coaster that I seem to be back on.   I have on several occasions tried to have a conversation to find out what this is, only to chicken the fuck out or get distracted by his damn blue eyes and dimples.

I've tried to decide what I need to hear him say to be happy and I can't figure it out.  I know I love the way that I feel when I'm with him. I know I'm not needing a label.  I'm not looking to get married or move in together.  I just need to know that we're being honest, that if I'm spending nights, there aren't other girls spending the night too.  I need to know that if this changes, he will tell me.  I'm scared to death that he won't and I'll be blissfully happy and someday he'll call me and say he's not.  My marriage has scarred me.

I told my best friend the other day that when you're hurt the way we've been you get hurt, you have an open wound.  You have people that come into your life and they rip the scab off.  It hurts again and again until someday you meet the one person who is the big dose of Neosporin who makes it heal...You might always have the scar from ripping the scab off over and over, but it doesn't hurt anymore...I need Neosporin.

So the crossroads... I've wanted a child for a long time.  I'm thankful every day that I didn't have one with my ex, but it doesn't make the yearning any easier.  I'm 35 and I know that my days are numbered.  My friends still tell me I have plenty of time, but the medical world says otherwise. 

I'll be 36 in July 2011.  If I am not in a serious, committed relationship by then I am going to take matters into my own hands.  Because, while yes, I want to have a partner, it is not necessary for me to have the child I want.  I'm tired of waiting for men to make a decision so I can make one.   In the next few months I'm going to find the nerve to go talk to the facility, to see what it takes, what the process is and next July, if I'm where I need to be, alone or otherwise, I am going to make a decision about my future and the future of a child.

It feels like a weight off my shoulders, when realistically what I've done is made the decision to make the one biggest decision in my life. I'm ready.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Online Dating is a Big Fat Fucking Joke...(or is this really my only option?)

So I'm on match.com.  Not that it matters because I never get any emails.  The only people checking out my profile are my stalkers (ie. the ex-husband of the whore that my ex-husband was sleeping with during our marriage) and my friend's soon to be ex.  Really? Those are my options?

The funniest thing on Match is that you have to put your body type, or rather you don't, but I fell like if I left it blank everyone will assume I'm a 300 lb lardass.  So for my profile I selected "Curvy" and "A few extra pounds" because I have both.  Most men on the other hand choose "Athletic and Toned" "Slender" and "About Average".  There choices are made regardless of what they look like.

So for example, here's this hypothetical guy.  Slightly balding, decent shape, horrible grammar, two kids and he's looking for America's Next Top Model.  Hey buddy, I may be your best option.  I'm not a model, but you're even below my radar.

I'm a Match.com snob.  I have some pretty high class restrictions and because of those in one month I've already voided their money back guarantee.  I have to email 5 guys a month to qualify.  I haven't because there haven't been any worth emailing.

Here are the deal breakers for me:
- You have a picture of yourself with out your shirt on, taken on your cell phone, using your bathroom mirror.
- You have shitty grammar or use all capital letters.
- You admit in your profile that you have two children, by two women and you just haven't found the right woman yet.  Um - use a fucking condom, I don't want what you've got.
- You live off the grid and use your entire profile talking about sustainability and being self supportive.  That's great, but I like reality tv.
- You specifically mention not drinking. I like wine. I will not give it up for you or any other penis.
- You talk about your daily reading of the Bible.  That's great, but um, have you not realized that my favorite word is "fuck"?

So those are just a few, I also won't consider guys from certain towns, just because of the stigma that goes with them. 

So yeah, I'm a snob.  I have virtually eliminated every guy in the Match.com dating pool for one reason or another.  I am destined to be single forever or the one "perfect" guy I decide to go on a date with will end up being the reincarnate of Ted Bundy.  That would be my luck.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Men Are From...?

Yesterday I had the opportunity to be the wing-man for my BFF.  I'd had a bit to drink and my inhibitions were not existent.  Cute boy was off in another state doing his thing and I was really ready for the sarcasm that been bubbling up inside the last few days to come out.

The BFF has been seeing this guy for a bit, not really a public thing, just them doing their thing, but last night we kinda invited ourselves over to drink his beer while he was hanging with four of his good friends... Just one big meat market.  A great opportunity for some observations...although i don't know that any of them ultimately helped me any.

Firstly, guys think it is okay to simply play on YouTube when there are women in the room.  We were there for about 40 minutes before any of them really acknowledged us. Really guys? Watching music videos is that important?  Besides, the music was really too loud for us to have any conversation anyhow.

One of the guys broke off from the pack by grabbing my brand new sweatshirt and putting it on. I guess he was cold and he thought it was his buddy's.  The knowledge that it wasn't didn't matter.  He just kept it on and started sniffing it. And continued to sniff it. and sniff.  He thought I smelled good and it was kinda of funny...especially at the point where I had two guys smelling my hair.

The BFF and I decided to go outside and sit, kinda expecting that some of them might follow us, but nope.  You probably guessed it.  They didn't, at least not initially, they stayed inside with YouTube and actually dancing to some of the songs.  Bonus for us, we could just laugh and talk amongst ourselves at them. Eventually they did start to journey outside, mostly as the desire for a cigarette increased, but they hung out until we got cold and moved back in.

At this point, the boy who tried to steal my sweatshirt has told my BFF that he's got a crush on me. (Gee, in less than two hours, that may be a new record for me.)  He's continually made quiet comments that I've managed to ignore, because in amongst these comments he has mentioned his wife numerous times.  I'm fairly intoxicated and I have a nervous tic of playing/twirling my hair.  He actually tells me that I need to stop, he can't handle it. Muahahahahaha. 

Said boy then managed to text message me later (or rather earlier this morning) and tell me I was pretty, cool, sexy and I smell good.  I was informed he would like to date me, I am just his type.  At this point please scroll up to where he was talking about his wife.  He has stated that they have an open relationship, that she's okay with it.  Um, yeah, no.  One, I am not and I deserve more than being the other woman.  Jackass.

So what have I learned from my observations? Men are easily distracted.  First by loud music and funny things on a monitor and then later by smells and simplistic actions.  They tend to get one thing in their head and have a hard thing letting it go.  They think flattery will get them everywhere, including in one's pants.  They are easy to toy with once they let their weakness be known.  And therein lies the fun.

I played with the one boy like a cat with a mouse.  It was my entertainment.  Cruel? Maybe... but after all, he just opened the door that made it so easy.

Oh, and just so you know, I wasn't even showing any cleavage.  I was in a baggy t-shirt, jeans, sneakers and a hoodie.  I can only imagine what fun I could have had if the girls had been on display!

M

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Remembering...

When I woke at 6 a.m. this morning to tend to my mutts, the first thought that I had was "Today is September 11th."  And then my heart plummeted into my stomach.  This has happened on this date for the last eight years, like a nervous tic.  I'll answer the question I know most of you are wondering - No, I didn't personally lose anyone that day, but I did lose a bit of myself.

I started thinking about today a few days ago.  It's been a hard day for me.  I usually wake, check the news outlets, read stories about the people who were directly affected that day and end up in tears.  Then I'll look up articles of Mohammed Atta and his trip that included an overnight stop in my beloved Portland.  That's where the anger takes over from the heartbreak.  This has been my routine every year... besides the actual year, which I did much of the same, but also sat in front of the television in disbelief for days, unable to look away, unable to turn the damn thing off.

Nine years ago I was 26, living with my parents, having moved back from Florida and going back to finish my degree.  My ex-husband and I were building a house, not yet engaged.  I was working full time and constantly on the move.  I can distinctly remember the events of that day, I've replayed them so many times I find it hard to put emotion in them.  I think most of the lack of emotion has to do with the shock:

I was on I-95 North, heading from Biddeford to South Portland for morning classes.  At the Scarborough exit I received a call from my step-mom that there was something going on in New York and that I should try to get the local news station on the radio.  This was still when the first plane hitting the World Trade Center was thought to be an accident.  The local station wouldn't come in well, so I was getting very spotty reports.

I had a planned stop at my friend's house in South Portland to drop off a lovely tea set she'd painted for her new baby daughter.  She hadn't been watching TV, so I asked her to turn it on.  That was when the second plane hit the WTC.  I pulled myself away, this was only my first or second class of the semester and I couldn't miss it.  I drove the ten minutes to campus, parked and the plane hit the Pentagon.

My professor had friends in the WTC, he hadn't heard anything from them and our class was sitting there in class, listening to news reports on a radio.  After class, I met up with my cousin and we sat in the cafeteria watching the news and tearing up until I had to pull myself away to go to work.

At the time I worked for a larger company, who had already issued a directive to close stores as needed.  I was a new manager and not really sure what to do, so we bought a radio and sat for a while with my employees and just listened.  The decision came when one of them came in for their shift, he came to the office and asked to leave.  His brother-in-law worked in the WTC, his wife and her family hadn't heard from him and he wanted to be home with them.  I closed the store, sent them all home.  His brother-in-law didn't make it.

I watched TV for days.  I remember going home, sitting down on the edge of the seat and just watching the same reports over and over again.  I dug for information on the Internet, I was obsessed.  I couldn't imagine such a tragedy happening here, in the United States.  That just didn't happen.  I'd lived the first 26 years of my life naive.  Thinking no one could hurt us.  On September 11, 2001 that vision was shattered.

I was also terrified.  My brother had just graduated High School and enlisted in the Marines.  He was scheduled to leave for boot camp in just a few weeks.  Would I lose him? I didn't, but I spent five years worried for him, worried for my step-mom and how she would handle her only child getting hurt or worse.  Every tour brought us anxiety and pain, but we knew it was the best thing we could do.  We were on every tour with him.  Every homecoming was sweeter, we grew an appreciation for one another and the time we got to spend together.  We bonded over trips to North Carolina to welcome him home. It was our new life.

The pain never really goes away.  The loss of innocence. I blame Mohammed Atta for a lot of that.  He was one of the terrorists.  I can recognize his picture, I remember his name, I know he was responsible for crashing the plane that hit the North Tower of the WTC.  Why would I care to know this? Why? I know he doesn't deserve it. But he came to MY city, he flew from Portland on the morning of the 11th.  He stayed at a hotel less than a half mile from my work, he shopped at MY Wal-mart (it's thought they may have bought the box cutters there) and he stopped into the convenience store where I bought my gas.  We had to review our security tapes to see if he may have actually walked in the doors of our store to use a computer.  The bastard cold have walked right by me that day and that pisses me off.  That's why I blame him.  If he'd flown out of somewhere else I wouldn't have all those overlapping paths with him.  I wouldn't feel like my space was  violated, like he took something from me.

I still see him everywhere, no worries, not actually have visions... but when I go into the gas station, which has been remodeled and completely different, I think of him.  When I go into the Marden's, which is the old Wal-mart, I think of him.  Every time I drive by that hotel, I think of him.  I feel like in a way, that makes him win and it just pisses me off more.

So, today, on this 9th anniversary of a day we shouldn't have to remember, I wish you all peace. Hug your loved ones closer and go out and do something nice for someone else.  Find a stranger, someone you'd normally walk by and ignore, shake their hand and say hello.  Accept them, regardless of their culture, religion, color, orientation, just accept them.  We need to remember what was, so we can make sure we never have to relive it.

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey. ~Kenji Miyazawa

M

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Protecting or Running?

I've got a quandary that I'm trying to figure out about a decision I'm trying to make.  It's this type of shit that pops into my heart (I meant head, but I think that may be a Freudian slip I shouldn't change just yet) because I try to balance what I am doing, with what I want from life at the same time I try to make sure I'm not back sliding into bad habits. 

Meaning, every time I think I should do something, I ask myself why.  Am I doing this because it's the right thing for me? Or am I doing it because it's the easiest path, the one with least resistance? Or because I'm just plain old scared shitless?

I told the Cute Boy earlier in the week that I wasn't going to guilt him anymore.  That's a fault of my personality and I don't care for it.  I'm not going to beg either.  He has my number, he knows where I live, if he wants to spend time with me, I'm here.  That was four days ago and I admit, the contact has been less.  But it hasn't been non existent.  He calls to say hi, he texts, but it is quite different from when I was clinging onto something.  But I also feel freer, I'm no longer constantly checking my Blackberry in hopes of a text or call in response to the one I sent.  I'm able to focus.  I've hung pictures on my wall, I've watched movies, I've done laundry. 

So is this good?  We've talked many times about how I want a relationship.  He's not quite at that point.  He says he wants one, just not at this point.  I feel like I need to back off, he needs to come into this on his own if he is going to come into it at all. I don't want it any other way.

That being said, I want it, I really do.  I've fallen for this Cute Boy.  I'm at the point where I want to cut and run.  Because he's not there, I feel like no matter what he's never going to be.  That my heart is just waiting to be broken, so if I leave now, it will hurt less.

But will it?

So is it worth sticking with this - enjoying whatever fun I have now, living in the moment and handling what ever cards I'm dealt with my big girl panties on when then moment arises?  Or do I run? If I run I could just run into something else far less enjoyable and still get hurt.  Therein lies the dilemma.

And I don't know.  I really don't know.  I want to be able to live in the moment, but the pain of the past is bubbling up.  I make it thru that once before and I don't want to just keep making it thru.  I want something that is going to erase that... that will make me realize that the relationship I had isn't how they're supposed to be.  That it was simply a joker in the deck of cards that my life has dealt. 

I just don't know my friends.  I'm kinda at a standstill. Stay, love, potentially be hurt or run, curl up and protect my already fragile heart?

Thursday, September 2, 2010

There Are Days When I Hate Being Me.

This is one of them. 

The best part about going thru a divorce and being single at 35 is you realize that even though your former partner may have been an absolute douche-bag, you still probably hold about 10% of the blame.  You are willing to make the effort to get to know yourself, to be able to internalize, to figure out what the fuck makes you tick.

The worst part about going thu a divorce and being single at 35 is you realize that even though your former partner may have been an absolute douche-bag this shit and then you fucking beat yourself up repeatedly about it.  You let it roll around in your brain and you second guess every interaction you have with another human being, especially those of the opposite sex.

I started writing yesterday about my weakness or rather, my "areas of opportunities" as I prefer to call them and I've really been picking my brain about them a lot lately. 

Cute boy made a comment last night that hit home and didn't help with my mental state, even though he was simply being humorous and trying to lighten the mood.  His comment, "You've been taking lessons from my mom.  You're not going to get me over there with the guilt technique." Or something along those lines.

This made me realize that it is EXACTLY what I do.  I guilt people into spending time with me, I do it because somewhere deep down inside I feel like they wouldn't want to be with me for me.  Typically this is my M.O. for relationships and I need to stop:

1. I fiercely guard my heart.  With my ex-husband I had a 20+ year friendship, we'd dated for 3+ years before he proposed.  I had never told him I loved him until the day that he asked me to marry him and when I said the words they felt wierd.  I wish I had followed my gut on that one, but the hurt from that relationship almost makes me feel emotionally stunted, like I can't share those words... Oh, how I want to feel so strongly that they just spew like verbal vomit.

2. I am needy.  Mentally, physically, emotionally.  I need constant reassurance that someone is with me because they want to, yet I never give them the chance to do it.  I'm the agressor, making the plans, outing, dates... I need to learn to chill the fuck out.  Physically, when I'm having a bad day, human contact soothes me.  No, I'm not talking about some naked romp (although that does help), but something as simple as being in the room with someone I care about.  No matter my mood, if I even just get on the phone with cute boy, my heart rate slows, my hands settle, my mind calms.  He's one of the few people lately that when I spend time with him my mind stops racing... it's kind of a neat phenomenon.  Emotionally ranks up there with mentally.  I want/need to know I'm important to someone.  When I question it, it makes me go off the deep end with doubt.  Why would someone like me?

3. I guilt.  I do.  I wanted him to stay last week, he was tired and wanted to go home.  I bribed, I guilted, I threw everything at him.  It didn't work, I came inside and he went home.  Last night I wanted him to come over, it was nearly midnight, I was drinking, he was dirty from car repairs.  I repeated the previous actions and failed.  He went home and went to bed. I pouted.  I'm starting to think the fact that he doesn't fall for it may actually be a good thing for me.  Because if my guilt doesn't work on him, when he does spend time with me it's because he wants to right? (See, I'm a head case.)

So, I question why I put these out there. Maybe a publicly anonymous forum makes admitting them easier.  I'm trying to be introspective, because those genetically perfect children aren't going to make themselves and I want to make sure the next time around I find the person that is going to be my partner in this life.  I feel like if I don't know myself, I can't really know what I need. 

That being said, I have made some huge advances in the last few weeks.  I've realized how different this potential relationship is from my marriage and it makes me proud of where I am.  It's started with talking and discussions and honesty, even when the things I said weren't easy to admit.  I've told him things that could make him turn and walk away, but I've stayed true to myself.    I realized that my ex and I never talked about anything.  We knew each other for so long before we started dating that we assumed we knew everything and skipped that part.  We really knew nothing and if we'd made the effort in the beginning I don't know that we would have even made it to the altar.  I'm making choices with myself in mind, my happiness and my future...

It's all baby steps.  I just hate the days when the step I make ends up with scuffed knees and ripped jeans.

M

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Fucking Ridiculous Life

Yeah, so I'm starting this blog on an evening, when I've had a shitty day and already decided to drink this big ass bottle of wine.  That's the best part about being an adult, knowing the repercussions and still doing them.  Oh, and remembering that if you eat a sandwich now you'll probably be less sick in the morning. 

I'm also drinking the wine out of a rocks glass - it's less likely to get tipped or broken as the bottle gets emptied. 

So this blog - my great plan is to share it with some folks from my Tuesday-Night-Kiddo-Is-With-My-Ex group or possibly My-Generation-Can't-Make-It-Past-Five-Years friends... but either way, most of them overlap.  Five years seems to be the new seven (as in "seven-year itch" for you slow folks).

Yeah, I'm divorced.  Who fucking cares.  Am I bitter? Not at the moment.  I've actually thought about sending a thank you card to the whore that my ex started sleeping with the week after our third anniversary. It's thanks to their choices that I decided to put myself first and fight for what I've deserved.  In the last year and four days since my divorce was filed with the court I've gotten promoted, bought a house and had lots of fucking fun.  But, I digress.

I'm 35. My clock is fucking ticking louder than Big Ben. So... yeah, I'm not willing to do that alone.  Yet anyway.  Jennifer Aniston and J. Lo make it look easy in their movies, but I'm not that stupid.  So, the dating game begins.

While the title of this blog is about searching for Mr. Right, it may be kind of misleading.  I came up with the idea a month or two ago and since then I've found a cute boy that I kinda really like.  But, it's a slow process since it's pretty hard to find a cute boy to spend your future with when they're all either 1). married 2). gay 3). have excessive baggage and been screwed by some stupid bitch who fucked them up for the rest of us who could actually be good for them.  That being said, we're not at the point where we've decided that the future is ours. At least not while we're both sober, so technically I am still looking for that one guy who will deal with my issues and love me for me. Oh, and help me produce two genetically perfect children before I hit 40 and my eggs are considered part of the Salmonella recall.

So my flaws.  I've got some good ones.  I know I do, but after 35 years I've decided that their mine, part of me, for better or for worse and they're not going to go away.  I figure a list form is easiest and I reserve the right to add to it as I see fit:

1). I have raging, undiagnosed, unmedicated ADD.  It rules my life and some days it's cute, other days it turns me into a raging, homicidial maniac (today - one of those days - I'm medicating with wine).  I don't think this is really the number one thing I care for people to know about me, but today it's redunkulous and so here it is, in a position of power.

2). I have about 40 60 lbs to lose.  I've lost and regained about 30 in the last two years.  I have a gut.  I'm never going to be the super model and I don't care.  I want to lose weight so that I don't lose my breath at embarassing moments, but really - I have great boobs and that gets me far.  I can normally distract them with my boobs (hence the title of this blog) and I do have a great ass.  It will never be one of those saggy old lady asses.  I'm comfortable being me.  Although, I would be happy if I had a fairy god mother who could get rid of the gut.

3). I'm a sucker for four legs.  I'm a sucker for the under dog.  That's why I'm single with two pitbulls and two kittens.  I can't imagine not having my animals.  My pup, she hates men.  I think it's a great test!!  The cute boy - he had her giving kisses at the 5 minute mark.

So those are the major ones.  There's lots more and I'm sure my friends will chime in and share them with you.  They're not shy. 

So, here's where I'm gonna end my first post.  I'm slightly more than intoxicated.  I've asked the cute boy to come over and drink wine with me.  I'm forwarding this to a few people who I feel can appreciate this while I stay anonymous for a bit.  Enjoy... and cheers.

M