Category Archives: Habits

Phew… ouch.

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4

I climbed back in bed yesterday and pulled the covers over my head…. desperate to get away from the reality of what I’d seen the night before. Absolutely tempted to bleach my eyeballs.

But it hurt bad enough already- and with the friends I’ve got? It’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

I choose to remove myself, instead.

Watching my best friends fuck the guy who absolutely broke my heart? Horrible. Absolute torture. I can get past a lot… but not that. Loyalty isn’t negotiable with me, and I cut people out of my life like cancer if their actions are less than genuine.

That whole “screw me once, shame on you, screw me twice, shame on me” thing? No. When it comes to me,  “screw him once and you’re dead to me”. Cut and dried, because that’s how it is.

When your friend has been through hell with a guy… when she still flinches at the sight of him… and when you’ve seen it repeatedly and heard her cry about it? Yeah… no. I don’t care if he’s Brad Pitt. I love me some Taye Diggs- but I’d shut the door in his beautiful face if he were “that” guy to any of my friends.

Thou shalt not fuck the guy who fucked with your girlfriend. It’s just that simple to me and if I have a friend that doesn’t feel that way? It wont be for long.

But…

Like any open wound, even cutting something out of your life that isn’t healthy- still hurts, horribly.

I loved her like a sister. I confided in her… about him especially. My daughter loved her. Being hit with it and watching him smile at me when he realized I put 2 & 2 together? Nauseating… positively sickening.

But…

It’s temporary. She’s in for it, that’s for sure. At least she knows after listening to me cry about him. The difference being I wont be there when she’s on the receiving end of his lackluster betrayal.

One of my very closest friends showed up last night to pull me out of my misery. As I dissolved in front of her, she put her hands out and offered me real friendship when I needed it most.

♥- I understand exactly where you’re at. He pays attention. He listens. My one date with him was amazing.

She started to detail their date and I started to choke on my own pain because it’s so familiar.

Ultimately I’m off the hook. I never have to see either of them again. I can eliminate the problem, the mutual space and the friends of mine that disregard my feelings.

I’m changing the things I can, while having the wisdom to throw the rest of his bullshit in the fire.

I’m drawing a line in the sand. Out loud. You’re either with me, or against me. You’re either with him, or me. I have the most amazing girlfriends in my life- I don’t have room, time or inclination to keep anyone who would entertain the idea of disrespecting me or stand idly by while someone else does. You are what you eat. Act like it.

Oh? You want to play STD roulette with the hoarder? Huh. By all means, enjoy- and sorry about your bad luck. I’m a much better friend and a far more formidable enemy.

Relax. You’ll never have to worry about me jumping a fence to crash your date. You want that? Have that. Bag it up though… because if you thought mice were dirty…

Not only will I not demean myself by forcing him to acknowledge how much he’s hurt me? I wont give anyone a second thought who would give him a moment of their time.

So the next time your kids are sick, or you are? Call him. See what happens.

The next time you need a ride home, to work, or need to cry about your bad day? Call him.

Hungry? Sad? Lonely and crying the PMS blues? Oh please… if you ever loved me…

Call the hoarder and experience for yourself what it feels like on the dark side of the moon.

He didn’t answer? Your best friend is smiling sweetly at him instead of at you? You can’t believe what you’re seeing?

Weird.

Oh and good luck- you’ll need it.

Well that and antibiotics. lol… and I hope every single tablet sticks in your throat a little to remind you of the high cost of being a whore of a friend.

Oh and may peace be with you, because you may as well have peace if you don’t have class.

Sorry about your bad luck…

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I’m fed up with stupid people. I’m annoyed by idiots.

More than anything? I’m inconvenienced by the ignorant and I’m frustrated enough to vent a little.

I’m blissfully happy these days. Drowning in domestic bliss and completely sunburned from hours in the dirt and doing facials with my daughter and her best friend after their school dance.

Pizza and giggles. Aunt MSOK came over to do her hair magic and the two of us giggled in the middle of my acre of dirt. Holy shit it’s huge. She loves my design. I love her.

Life is made so much better by the friends that mean the most. She’s more than my friend, she’s my sister. She knows everything there is to know… even the big stuff. Even the stuff you don’t tell anyone…. and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I drive her insane whining about the same guy, and she works overtime to listen and burn his bridges to the ground- with truth.

Life is about spending it with people that love you, not people that judge you. I don’t have time for anyone who chooses to wear their judgy panties. No time at all… those bitches can hang out with the hoarders. They deserve each other.

That said. I’m about to get a little mad and a lot honest.

To my single friends. It’s very simple if you want to keep him/her.. It’s all about making them wonder if you like them or not. That’s all it is. Don’t respond to phone calls or texts. Don’t have sex with him or her. Torture them with your feigned disinterest based indecision… and wa-la! They’re all yours.  Yeah… fuck that tragic bit of post-highschool histrionics. I like sharks. I like men who see something they want and actively pursue it. I like men that value having exclusive rights. In other words… we have to play the crazy manipulative stalker card or we lose? No. Give me a skilled hunter gatherer, thanks.

Anytime, anywhere… as a woman… when you’re treated like a cheap paper napkin from the KFC drive-through? It hurts.When your sensitive lightweight napkin self has to continually float through his presence… it’s even worse. The moral of the story? If he treats you like a shitty napkin… look at him for the disease carrying controlled substance he is/should be. Wash your hands… with bleach. Pour the rest of the gallon in the bathtub and climb in. Sorry about your bad luck- you should have listened to that snake charmer story more closely…. because you’ve officially been charmed… by a snake. Until it’s on Facebook? It’s not real. Sorry about your bad luck again- if you’re not given the public nod? It’s because there are other women on his FB that he bangs… or wants to.

To the lady at the gas station, bank, bar, grocery store…etc… that hates me because I’m thinner, prettier, etc…than them. Fuck you. I was 265 lbs at my heaviest and I worked my ass off LITERALLY. I’d like to get back down to my goal weight because I enjoy the attention. So there. That’s honest. Wanna be hotter? Lose weight. Wanna open a new page on the menu? Don’t eat dessert, don’t have a drink and run to the grocery store instead of drive.

Nobody said it didn’t suck- and trust me, you’ll end up hating those naturally skinny bitches ten times more. Think about it though. They’re sober, exhausted and they date the worst of the worst of the douche bags because the GQ model guys are the biggest assholes of all time. Popped collar? No. In fact I think I threw up in my mouth a little just typing that. Beyond all that, don’t be a bitch. Don’t glare at me because you’re jealous. Sorry about your bad luck, try harder and FYI- Haterade is high in calories. Kick the habit, or better yet? Love yourself enough that you don’t have to hate anyone else because you don’t. Fix it or flaunt it- or fuck right off.

To my unhappily married friends… where do I even begin… oh I know. Leave each other the fuck alone. The rest of us are tired of hearing you bitch about it. Sorry it didn’t work out, sorry you hate each other now SHUT THE FUCK UP and break up already. Sorry he cheated, sorry you did, sorry you both ARE. I DON’T CARE!!! I shovel my own snow. I haul my own trash. I manage. I don’t love it and I’d love to be some spoiled chick with auto start and a heated driveway- but I’m not. So I shut up and do it. The same goes for marriage. If you signed on for eternal financial security and sex on demand- QUIT BITCHING. If you don’t want to sign on anymore, then sign the fuck out. It’s that simple. If you’re torturing each other you are wasting years of your lives being unhappy. More than that? You’re torturing the fuck out of everyone around you. Spare us if you don’t give a shit enough about yourselves anymore. Don’t fool yourself- we all think of ways to avoid hanging out with you because of it. Sorry about your bad luck, call a divorce attorney and end your marriage before your friends DIVORCE you. We’re over it.

To the shitty bosses… and really? Nothing is more disappointing. You miss spelling bees, dance recitals and your baby losing a tooth- only for the tooth fairy to have to fly to Grandma’s. You miss priceless moments in your life for these assholes and it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re the means to an end and just another name on the payroll. If you never came to work again, they wouldn’t notice. The hypocritical men and women that abuse the power they hold in being able to decimate your financial security. The boss that gossips and talks about the weight of his employees. The one that closes his eyes to it all. The one that is an overpowered monster and looks for your vulnerabilities.  The one who propositions you sexually. The one that drinks on the job. The one that makes everything worse when he’s on the floor. The one that hits on the customers. The one that doesn’t respect you enough to move out of your way. We’ve all had one. We all know “that” guy.

I’m sorry about your bad luck, it’s the social network/blog age and if you don’t treat people kindly or with some modicum of respect? They can have an opinion about that could make you look like the…well… jerk you are. As they say- opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Unfortunately for the bad guys? Opinions are a lot louder now than they used to be. Fortunately- there’s a very simple way to solve all this. Be kind. Be appreciative. Be understanding and be considerate of how your choices affect the lives of others. Be thankful for the people who make your dreams come true, because in the end it wont matter how much money you made- it will matter what kind of character you built.

Come on… be less annoying and be more happy. ♥ Happy beats being pissed off, every time.

Scary Happy

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I’m back to my infectiously happy self. I’m beaming. People everywhere tease me and ask about the new guy in my life. I blush.

Nope. No guy. No man. Nada, nada, nada…. No gracias.

It’s me, I’m back.

I’ve missed me. It’s like coming out of a fog. I’m baking. Sewing. Planting. Transplanting…. and walking the five minutes to my daughter’s school every day to pick her up. I’m so filled with joy at having these moments back that my chest aches a little. We’re cooking dinner together and taking bike rides afterward.

I’ve lost 12 pounds not being surrounded by fried food. I have a lovely tan from spending so much time in the greenhouse. My tomato plants are thriving and I spend my mornings dancing in the greenhouse in a swimsuit, watering my little green children. I’m beside myself with joy.

My finger & toenails are painted. My dishes are done and the laundry is clean, folded and put away. I’ve had time to go to the grocery store and I’ve been making marshmallows for the market this weekend. I’m getting ready for a yard sale. I’m working with what I have until I start working again.

Not dating, and more importantly taking the time to actually write about my Puerto Rican nightmare. I’m taking the next two weeks offline. Unplugging the computer and shutting off the DirectTv. Diving in to this rare opportunity to be the housewife I used to be and get my own home and life in order. Building fences and baking cookies. Slipping back into a dress and heels, my uniform of choice.

I’d gotten lost. I forgot to do what really makes me happy and the rest falls into place. I don’t want to date some idiot. I don’t want to drink after work with coworkers every night my daughter is gone. Yeah the house is empty but it’s also a pretty cool place to hang out, and I’m happier at home. I’ve been sewing curtains and diaper covers and monsters.

I’ve been getting rid of the excess in our lives and in our house so that we have less upkeep.

and I’ve been spending some serious time playing Bejeweled.

Unemployment is absolutely terrifying when you’re a single mom, and it’s going to be another 5 weeks before my unemployment starts to come in. Yikes… but I love a challenge and I’m resourceful as hell when it comes to being broke. I dated an unemployed hippie for 7 years. I could impress the world with how many things I can do with rice. :)

I’m living my life again- and not someone elses. I have clean sheets on my bed and clean socks in the drawer. Homemade spearmint soap in the shower and freshly bleached towels.

I’m a domestic hurricane of happiness, and it feels SO fantastic.

I’ve lost some friends, enemies and a job… but I’ve gained my life, my happiness and my self respect back.

Life is uncertain, but it is so good when you’re living true to yourself. It’s a scary good change and such a blessing in disguise.

This too shall pass, so while it’s here I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it. ♥

I’m spending time with dear girlfriends- and you know what they say… you find out who the real ones are when the chips are down. I’ve heard from a few of my favorite customers expressing their appreciation and someone left a six pack of beer on my porch the other day.

Simple kindness and delighting in the simple things in life reminds me what is truly important.

We’re going to go see the new baby chicks that hatched in my mama’s chicken yard this week and to collect eggs. I’m begging little red to let me go along on the field trip with her school tomorrow. I realize all the things I’ve missed that are so important and so vital to life being worth anything at the end of the day.

I’m breathing again, smiling and I’m grateful. It’s good to be back. ♥

Rain or Shine

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I had a much needed light week. I applied for a few new jobs and gave up a few of my hours at work. I swam in the joy of motherhood- which saves me every time. We giggled and rode bikes. We cooked together and side by side when we invited everyone over for dinner. At one point I was breaking the bottoms off asparagus spears and I had to stop and watch her for a moment.

My little princess isn’t so little anymore. She’s growing up…. and it leaves me with a big lump in my throat when I think about it. It’s gone by so fast, and only continues to go by faster.

If you blink- you might miss it. I know people told me that, but I never believed them until I saw it with my own eyes.

She’s so delightful- and we have the best time together… it just goes by so quickly, especially when you add work and school to the equation. I spend my life missing my kids and as the years tick by, it doesn’t get any easier. We had a fantastic week, followed by a dinner party with family that she helped cook. It was one of those full circle weeks, with everything falling further into place.

No dates. No boys. No men. I’m all plants, seeds and garden gloves. I’m a dirty girl in the purest sense.

It’s raining this morning, and I dropped my little darling off for school and kissed her goodbye for the week… and fought tears on the way home. This life half lived is eating at me lately and has made me realize why I date. To fill the empty hours I spend missing them. To do anything but face an empty dark house that still bears the signs of my little red-headed hurricane of art supplies. There’s a tube of turquoise glitter on the bathroom counter. Paper on the table and a variety of pens, pencils, yarn, etc… shoes here and there.

I sat down with a heavy sigh and surveyed the hurricane’s path. I miss her and I owe it to her to figure out how to enjoy my time without her too. She can’t be burdened by being my everything. So I threw on some garden gear and went out, slightly happy for the raindrops which mix nicely with the tears of my pity party. Heavy hearted and overwhelmed by another Monday in the chaos of life, single.

In my life, dirt fixes everything. It’s muddy delightful and I can’t resist the urge to take my gloves off. I like to feel the weeds in my hands. I like the soft cake-y dirt of the rows I’ve hand dug for 4 years. It’s a basic function and exactly what I need to remind me that it’s all just fine. Earthworms and bumblebees and newts. Quack grass and tansy and thistle… I have horrible weeds in my garden but it’s just a process and fairly quickly it starts to reveal it’s beautiful self.

It started to rain so hard it was dripping off the end of my nose and I decided to abandon the dirt for the sparkly clean water I put in the hot tub yesterday. 108* of heaven. Something is going crazy on the hot tub heater and it’s overheating. Hooray.

Icy cold Diet Pepsi, steamy hot water in the early morning spring fog with nothing but seeds to plant, laundry to fold and dishes to put away. Tempted to buy more potato seed… purely because I love digging them and I’m an admitted vegetable hoarder.

A text telling me I’m off the schedule until further notice. Essentially missing the entire work week. Thanks, single mom, that’s how much they appreciate you.

Pull my blog and kiss some ass or I’m fired?

I know when I’m being cornered to quit. I’m not stupid.

Once upon a time I could have been backed into a corner by a bunch of bullies. Once upon a time I would have caved and begged them to let me beg more, if I thought for a moment that’s what they wanted…. but they don’t. The customers love me- and I love my job. I’ll find a new one that respects me as a human being as well.

What would you choose? Sunshine? Or rain?

I choose sunshine, and the freedom of speech for that matter.

I don’t kiss even the hottest bald guy’s ass for $3.35 an hour.

The Last Straw

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Unfortunately my settings on one of these stupid dating sites has it chiming on my phone every time an email comes in, which is a lot. I finally sat down yesterday to change the settings in hopes of putting an end to the infernal distraction.

Success… oh and 22 new emails. I open the first one…

D- Hi.

That’s all. I see so many of these I just have to wonder what the hell these guys are thinking. You’re establishing contact with someone for the first time, hoping to spurn a response.

And all you’ve fucking got is Hi? Hello? Sup? Yo? Hey? I’ve seen them all and I never respond… but then you have to be a freak to ilicit a response from me because I’m only in it for the story at this point.

The playground is shut down for remodeling… and I’m a bored woman as a result. lol… I open the second email and it only gets better.

S-

4/28/2012 11:50:37 AM

Let me guess.. You found my profile more than a bit on the vulgar side.. Perhaps a bit disturbing as
well. you must have had a few glasses of wine to have even clicked on it.. I know your type.. Your a
mile above me.. And your clearly more than a bit too classy for my common ass.. but I might just
surprise you… And it’s not like I would expect you to tell your friends about me ;)

This guy has emailed me three times, and frankly; he’s repulsive. He’s not my type, I would really be being mean if I dated him.

What really stuns me, is that they make this assumption about me based on one picture, and one paragraph. Enough to insult me for not being interested in them.

They say women are crazy? Oh no. The penis-clad species is equally as crazy, if not more so, because they’re entitled to their jealousy. We’re supposed to understand that boys can be boys and “well you know he’s a man… he’s bound to be protective.

Turn those tables and you know what they call that girl? A date crasher. A stalker. A bunny boiler. Fatal attraction.

He’s protective, masculine, he just loves you a lot.

No. He’s a stalker and if I come up missing, check his house.

Yikers. A stalker is a stalker, is a stalker- and this guy is getting his panties in a bunch because he’s emailed me three times and I haven’t responded, but he can see that I viewed his profile.

Imagine him in real life. He’s the guy who stalks you daily, the one who wants to read your emails, look at your phone and account for every minute in your day and who you came in contact with. He “just stops by” and “just stays for the weekend”. Allowing this guy into your life is like petting a raccoon. They can imprint on you and follow you for life. They come in through windows, dog doors, chimneys. If they love you- they will do anything to be next to you.

It reminds me of fungus- no thanks.

The next email is a perfect example of why I’d really love to meet a nice woman every now and again. If anything inspires me to switch teams… it’s this guy.

USMC-

USMC

4/8/2012 12:18:29 AM
Wanna Chat
USMC

4/24/2012 10:59:16 PM
All girls like me I was in the military
USMC

4/24/2012 11:11:28 PM
And I have a very large penis

Yeah… he said that.

Like he actually expects a response finally that says “Oh well in that case, let’s chat” <eyeroll>

I don’t think I can even handle these internet retards any more. I may be officially ruined for men entirely.

Disgusted with the species… I signed out of the craziness that is meeting a date online.

I decided to make dinner and invite family over. My mama, her fabulous boyfriend, Sober One Kenobe and Mr. Man Card. My little princess.

Fresh pesto tortellini, asparagus, a green salad & garlic bread. Eclairs for dessert… with a glass of wine, around the kitchen table we’d pulled into the greenhouse and filled with spring flowers. It was a twinkly perfect evening full of the stuff that feels right. Family & friends and great food, laughing around the table in the light of white lights strung around the inside of the greenhouse with the smell of little tomatoes and flowers growing.

Internet dating cheapens what it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to see a cute guy and smile. He’s supposed to ask for your number and you’re supposed to have dinner or something in this sort of circumstance. The twinkle lights are optional but I’d say they’re worth a few bonus points.

It’s supposed to be as good as dinner with your friends and family- it’s supposed to leave you smiling the next morning, washing a stack of dishes and throwing the tablecloth in the washer.

Internet dating is depressing- and that’s not what I’m looking for.

I can do without the creepy stalking oversharers.

I officially quit my internet presence as potential prey. I climbed out of the mud puddle.

……..and I feel cleaner already :)