Day 29: If you won the lottery, what would you do with the money?

beamermaid

I’m going to dream big and say I won 500 million dollars. I need that much for this.

  1. I would set my family up for success. College money for anyone who wants to go, trade school, you name it. I would buy them each a house and reliable car. Family, taken care of. My mama has worked hard her whole life and I would love to spoil her.
  2. I would move to Kauai the same day. I would buy a ridiculously expensive piece of property on the ocean and would grow all the things I’ve never been able to grow.  I can’t wait to plant my North Idaho gardenia in the soil of her people. 🙂
  3. I would buy the homes of my enemies and evict them. Yeah… I can be a bit of a cunt when inspired.
  4. I would then purchase the companies that employed those same assholes, and liquidate them.
  5. I’d hire a hundred gardeners and have the vegetable garden of my dreams. I’d grow hundreds of varieties of tomatoes in a rainbow shape of ombre colors blending into each other. A good portion of my winnings would go into the dirt.
  6. I’d travel the world with my children and finish writing all the books that sit collecting dust on my laptop.
  7. Tattoos… so many tattoos…. I’d get on a plane and fly to Florida to have my very favorite tattoo goddess do them for me, too.
  8. I’d go to law school, focus on family law and represent single mothers near and far.
  9. I’d spend a month in all my favorite countries, learning how to prepare every cuisine to perfection. A gnocchi lesson in Italy, dim sum in China, and a rainbow of curries to learn in Thailand. I love food, and I hope I always love learning to cook new things.
  10. I’d adopt that baby from a Chinese orphanage like I always wanted to. I read all the books after the birth of my son, cried for years about the ongoing bias that had women leaving their newborn daughters on the side of the road like trash or tucking them into a basket to be abandoned in a busy market. I love being a mother more than anything and absolutely think I’ll foster or adopt a few more children before I retire into being a Grandma.

What are you going to do, make or buy?


Day 27: Your views on drugs and alcohol.

gin-recipe-georgian-bay-gimlet

My grandmother was a legendary alcoholic. As in… hit a train, drove the wrong way on the interstate, crossed the divider and drug the fence home… she set the tone for abusing substances without smudging her lipstick.

She’s why I don’t drink vodka. I don’t know what it is, but vodka and I are a deadly combination. I ride bulls in dresses, dance handsome strangers into agreeing to things they know they shouldn’t… you name it. Vodka removes all my filters, inhibitions and sense. Grey Goose is like napalm. Noooooo more goose. Never, ever.

I spent a few years serving and bartending, so I can make most drinks and really enjoy the art of mixology. I love a gin gimlet and make a mean margarita.

But champagne is my real favorite. My Fancy best and I have flooded the problems out with a few hundred bubbles, and this Corona Virus is seriously cramping my coping style, because I’d love to be sitting on the couch with her, mimosa in hand (and by mimosa I mean morning/afternoon champagne, please don’t junk up my prosecco with orange juice.) We toast to happy days and cry into our bubbles on the sad ones. We celebrate and grieve just the same… with a bubbly glass of it’s-going-to-be-ok.

I sat across from her a month ago, hot tears rolling down my cheeks as my whole universe imploded. She’d talked me through a million times of being jerked around by the opportunist I’d let crawl under my skin and take residence. I’ve cried about him for over a year and she’s loved me through going back when I knew I should run the opposite direction. Having cried into too many glasses of delicious bubbles, I apologized for the millionth time as the server walked up with a worried look on her face. Tears fell faster, as sympathy only rubber stamps my heart knowing it’s ok to break. She filled my glass to the top and patted my arm. My bright and beautiful best was grinning at me from across the table. I’d made the decision to leave and that included leaving her. Although months away, my heart broke at the thought that this was one of the last bubbly lunches.

F- Cheers! This is GOOD!!! It’s almost over!

J- I hate him so much.

F- That’s good too. I’ll drink to that.

Alcohol has always been celebratory until I got my soul ripped out through my heart. I learned what it meant to numb those feelings and ended up with a fat ass and a hangover. Medicating depression with a depressant is about as masochistic as you can get, and I’ve learned a lot about myself and my relationship with alcohol in the past 2 years. I reach for a cup of tea and my knitting these days, where I was drinking instead of fostering hobbies that have always soothed me.

One bad man can make your social drinking turn serious. I gave up vodka… then gin… then wine… and settled in to face all those awful feelings, sober.

It’s really the only way to deal with the worst shit.

Seeing him walk in hung over most mornings, becoming accustomed to the endless parade of energy drinks and Powerade that accompanied him… I saw exactly what I didn’t want to become, in the man I wanted so much to love. It was confusing, and it took me a long time to see that I was only wasting my time, compromising my health and ending up with wrinkles and bleeding ulcers as a result.

Alcohol had never been a pacifier. I had to change how I drink, how I feel about drinking, and check in with myself about why I was pouring one. If there’s one silver lining to enduring all that bullshit with him, it’s that.

Drugs have never been a thing for me. I did cocaine once and hated it. I ended up at home alone at 3 am… running on my damn elliptical machine until I had to get ready for work. Worst. Day. Ever. I seriously thought I was going to die by the time the dinner rush was done at the restaurant I was working in. Never again.

Pills make me puke, the scary stuff doesn’t tempt me enough to roll those dice and I’m sexual enough without ecstasy.

Marijuana is my jam. I can clean the whole damn house, bake an entire 8 course meal AND sew a dozen easter bunnies. I get shit done when I’m high. I also eat. A lot. I love the light ease of breezing through a long, hard day with a little ganja…. but I’m not trying to be 400 pounds, and I could get there quick with a stoner habit. So it’s a limited love affair that I don’t regularly indulge. I have too much shit to do and although it’s pleasant to have your head in a cloud for a bit… reality doesn’t wait for the fog to clear and I like to be in control of my life at all times.

I’d try mushrooms though. I’ve heard a lot of hilarious stories about them and life is too short not to experiment a little.

Just don’t unpack and live there… nobody likes a strung out junkie.


Day 22: Describe 7 things you’re awful at.

  1. I’m awful at picking a man that won’t lie to me, cheat on me, steal from me or break my heart. I’ve elevated it to an art form and have ruled them out entirely as a result. Heterosexual men are basic creatures. Much like that lump of a human they hand you when you have a baby, you only need to feed, water and love it for things to be agreeable, right? Wrong. I have an innate ability to pick the absolute worst asshole in the room. Eyes closed, heart open… I lose every damn time.
  2. Thinning root vegetables. Seriously.. someone should take my carrot seeds away. There’s honestly no point in me even planting them because I can’t grow them for shit and who needs 4000 pencil sized baby carrots? Nobody.
  3. Kitchener stitch. It’s some sort of modern day needlework witchcraft. I avoid knitting socks for precisely this reason. I loathe not being able to do something though, so I’ll figure it out eventually or die trying.
  4. Seeing the forest for the trees. I see the potential in everyone- and never stop to consider that some people are self motivated and not looking out for me or my best interests. Some folks are just users and I work overtime to see the goodness a little too much. Some of those frogs aren’t princes. Some of those warty little things are just dirty ass reptiles.
  5. Brownies. I can’t bake brownies to save my life. I don’t know why. I’ve given up trying and just buy them. I’m bitter about it though because I’m a damn domestic goddess and hate that I can’t do something.
  6. Sleep. I am the worst insomniac. I am regularly awake between the hours of 1-5 AM and generally give up and get up by 5:30. I’m painfully tired and all things considered could probably use a week of rest, straight. I won’t get it and it won’t stop me from lying awake all night again tonight… so feel free to give me any suggestions you may have.
  7. I’m awful at shaking this Incredicock nightmare. Hearing one thing and seeing another is the worst form of torture and I was crazy to think that touching him again was a good idea. It wasn’t. You can only be casual about someone you don’t care about… just as you can’t make a ho a housewife, it’s absolutely impossible to make a fuckbuddy out of the guy you’re in love with and I should have learned that painful lesson the first time with him.

I wish I had more of my shit together, but fairy godmothers aren’t real and it involves a shit load of work and time to change these things. I’m still determined, still working hard to be better, do more, live positively and strive for happiness.

I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep… -Robert Frost


Day 19: What do you most wish you were great at?

1. Thinning the carrots in the garden. I suck at ripping 3/4th of them out, so they’re always crowded, too small, misshapen and weird. I grow horrible carrots and it’s my greatest shame as a farm girl. It’s one of those things that is part of my character. I can’t casually throw away something that I made. I give it the benefit of the doubt and even when it clearly looks stunted and in need of discarding… I keep trying to save them all. It’s not a great trait to possess when you’re growing root vegetables (or dating). Bless all my little beets and carrots- I can’t pick one over the other so they’re all going to have a hard time reaching their full potential.

2. Letting go. I worry about people’s feelings more than I should. I overthink everything. I can’t tell you the horrible paths my mind went down today because even I know I’m imagining the worst things at will. I wish I were great at saying “Cest la vie” with a smile and a tip of my champagne glass… but assuming the worst is more my weakness and I make even slightest hiccup into a heart attack. Death is extremely hard for me and I wish I could find the peace and joy in happy memories… but letting go is tantamount to giving up for me, and I fight it tooth and nail.

3. Hunting. Random, I know… but I want to shoot an elk, gut it and chop it up to fill my freezer. I loved dissection in science and I’m not squeamish. I grow a million things, but at the end of the long day and night of weeding, pruning and staking them… all I want is a steak. I have too tender of a heart to grow a cow to eat, but I could joyfully hunt a wild one down. I’m determined to learn.

4. Fishing. Along those same lines… I really want to catch a pike. I’m seeing my friends post pictures of them lately and I want one. I work for an Alaskan based company and I REALLY want to go fishing for salmon, halibut, cod and the rest of their magical assortment of delicious fish. I’d rather go fishing than to a spa… so perhaps I just need to book a trip and go already. Why wait?

5. Laundry. I’m great at washing and drying it… but folding it is right up there with the gynecologist for me. I’d rather die than fold ten loads of laundry and that’s what I face each Saturday. Yes, I know I should get rid of some sheets. Have less dish towels…. etc. I don’t want to. I have more drawers in my kitchen than you can imagine and plenty of space to encourage me to have seasonal linens. I just wish with my whole heart that I loved to fold them when they were hot out of the dryer.

6. Balancing work and home. I’m so damn exhausted on Saturday that I let my Dumpling veg out in front of the TV or electronics. I let her eat popsicles. I’m THAT mom who overcompensates for the mom guilt of school + daycare that puts a 6 year old into a 40 hour work week. It’s shitty and I feed her more corn dogs than her older siblings got to eat. Little Red sees Twinkies in the cupboard and shakes her head at me.

LR: Where did these come from and WHO are you? We were never allowed to have these.

Me- Eat one, they’re gross. You weren’t missing out on anything. It’s just not a battle worth fighting. It’s a mermaid cupcake, not the end of the world. I’m sorry I was so uptight. I’ll buy you some if you want.

LR- Ew… they are kind of gross.

7. Taking time for myself. I need a break so desperately I could cry. Too much work, too much stress, too much heartache, too much of everything frankly- and I wish I were better at insisting on taking a minute to feel better… even if that means drinking a cup of coffee in silence and going to work a half hour later.

I get a lot done in a day… but it’s always nice to have goals too. ♥


Day 17: Describe 5 weaknesses you have.

  1. Incredicock. Oh why beat around the bush (no pun intended), let’s be bold, brave and honest, shall we? I can honestly say I’ve never felt about another human being the way I feel about him. Fiercely protective while simultaneously terrifyingly guarded, brazen, bold and wanton…oh and petty as the day is long. I’ve never really known heartache like the one he inspires and I wonder sometimes if it’s my penchant for pain that makes me love him so? The jury’s out, but masochism is in the lead. I saw things I can’t unsee regarding him this weekend and I’m decimated as a result. I’ve clearcut the common threads that tie us together and am facing some tough days ahead. What he says and what he does are vastly different and it kills me every time I find out he’s lied to me again. I need to get off this bad ride.
  2. Baked Lays Potato Chips. Dear God in heaven…. hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven… Give us these chips, these daily chips… I can’t even buy a bag because I will eat the whole damn thing with reckless abandon.
  3. Take5 Candy bars. Seriously the best candy bar ever made. Thank you Reese’s for making them a part of your delicious family.
  4. Bombay Sapphire Gin. I had 4 martinis last night as I cried about my bad taste in men and bemoaned the stupidity of my loyal heart. 4!!!. I felt like death warmed over all day today and sat inches away from the cause of it. No martini is worth that and I wish I’d stayed in bed. Thank heavens for Maybelline who painted my grey face a flesh tone and convinced the world that I wasn’t seconds from puking, all day.
  5. Tomato plants. God bless America, at least one of my weaknesses is healthy. I cannot walk away from a “rare” or “lost” heirloom tomato seed. I have grown them all. I know them all as well as my children and doubt you could surprise me with a new favorite… but I’d sure love to hear about yours….