A Cyclic Poem

I keep staring at the pictures of the last two "relationships" I've had.  Both have profiles on Yahoo and both check in on a daily basis.  One frightens me and the other fascinates me.  I avoid leaving a trail so I don't think either of them know I've been looking.  Although I wasn't so very savvy in the beginning and so I can't be sure.  The fascinating one checked in on me twice, the frightening one never.  But the frightening one would know how to cover his tracks.  Funny how that works.

*****

I'm so damn tired of the drama at work.  I adore Dana, I love her, I haven't had such a close girlfriend in a very long time.  I went to a couple of gay strip clubs with her.  Did I tell you that?  We had fun.  And I fought hard for her when she quit.  She lost her freakin' mind on Monday, decided she's quitting and put in her resignation the next day.  And I couldn't stop her.

That was a month ago.  I fought for her.  I'm nobody, really.  But I know what she does and I know how to ask, and I got her a little more time.  She quit without having another job.  She has two kids.  She lives in an expensive part of town so her kids can go to good schools.  She didn't look for another job the whole time.  We all thought, we being only the two of us I guess, we thought it would never happen.  She was just going to be around forever and things would slowly go back to normal and Satan (our boss and President of the company) would forget she quit because although his pride wouldn't allow him to ask her to stay, and her pride wouldn't let her ask him if she could stay, somehow by ignoring the whole thing it would just go away.

But no.  She's really leaving.  I was sad and upset and depressed and scared and worried and angry.  All the things you are for a friend who's been treated unfairly.  I've talked and cried, cursed and complained...hours and hours of it.  I've done it at home, through texts, at work, via phone and email.  I've done it for a month with her now.  Longer even. 

This must make me evil.  But I want the drama to end.  Her last day is next Friday.  And I'm glad.  Not glad like gleeful glad.  I'm just so very very tired of dealing with the drama every single day.

See, it's all very political.  Everyone at that place tells me everything.  The HR Director looks on my like another grandchild and tells me EVERYTHING.  I know things I really ought not to know and I hate it sometimes!!  So I know things I should have told Dana, if I'm her friend.  But things I have responsibility to my job not to tell her, like if they found out I told her than I'd lose my job.  So I can't tell her things I know and I can't tell people at work things I know, about her.   I can't complain about her, even when I think she's doing the wrong thing, because people in my office are just dying for me to say something bad that they can go running to her with.  She's so volatile, she'd believe anything.  So I have to be very very careful.  ALL.  THE.  TIME.  With everyone.

It's exhausting.

*****

My direct report's nickname is "Chip."  It's hysterical.  Only Dana and I call him Chip, but it's because every single time Dana and I take a break from work and chit chat for a second, Chip appears.  We figure we've both been chipped.  Whenever we're within a certain radius...say eight feet...the master chip in Chip's head goes off and he comes LEAPING around the corner to catch us goofing off.  It also works with emails.  And phone calls.  And once?  I had this dream and Dana had the same dream, we were both taken aboard a spaceship...and I think we had our chips upgraded that night.  Now Chip can tell when we're talking when he's not even in the building!  We wonder what will happen to our chips when she leaves.  She made me a special tin-foil hat in case it implodes or something.

Chip is manic. Like a complete maniac manic.  Worse than me on my worst ebay spending spree manic day.  But today I out manicked him.  It was funny, really.  Usually when he asks me for 497 things all at the same time at 4:45 in the afternoon, I make nice eye contact with him, smile and assure him I'll get it all done.  Today, after they took away all Dana's duties (well, actually they pissed her off and she quit doing most of her job, accept the part that dealt with training me) I had way too much to do and way to little knowledge with which to get it done.  So when Chip walked in today, I was the one with 497 things to ask HIM!!  It was funny as hell, he didn't know what to do.  He floundered for speech and I just went on and on.   And on.  (I can speak very quickly at a high frequency for quite a long time on a single breath when it's necessary.)  He looked confused and left the room as quickly as possible.

Never try to out manic me.

*****

I feel better today, obviously.  Nothing changed.  Nada.  But I just feel better.  I guess depression really is chemical.  When I wrote that last post, I thought I wanted to die.  Things aren't great, but they'll improve at work.  The drama is getting to everyone I guess.  SIX more days!!  Plus, get this!  The one guy at work I was ever interested in?  Yes, she got him.  I don't mind really, because I wouldn't have known what to do with him had I been the one to get him...but STILL!!

*****

Thanks, Margaret and Tonya, for reading and responding yesterday.  I needed so badly for someone to hear me.  I knew there was nothing you could do to change things or fix me, but I needed to be heard.  I'm so grateful to you both.  You will never know how much.

I broke up with New York guy today.  You remember, the one I've instant messaged NEVER, emailed a grand total of six times (in four weeks) and spoken to on the phone exactly once.  Yes, I did have to break up with him.  I told him I wasn't ready to be someone's last great love and that Hope is the most important thing in my life right now (despite having him tell me repeatedly and loudly during our one conversation that no child should be the center of their parent's life) and so I didn't think it was fair to him to continue this any longer.

Yes, he sent me THREE emails telling (first) how much he liked me, how sorry he was that I didn't want to meet and take the chance that we could have something special (second) he does love his daughter and he takes exception to my implication that he doesn't, and (third) he thinks I'm a bitch and I deserve to be alone forever and he's quite sure I will be.  These are all written within fifteen minutes of each other.

I attract stalkers, don't I?  Creepy creepy.  So I started talking to this other guy, but then I looked more closely at his pictures and noticed suddenly that he didn't have three of his front teeth.  My computer "froze up" at that point and I exited Yahoo Messenger rather quickly.  Then I started talking to a tennis coach in an affluent city near my home.  I thought, "how cool!  I'm in love with Federer and here's a tennis pro waiting just for me!!"  We'll see, I decided I'm not instant messaging people and I'm not giving them my number.  From now on I'm going to be the mysterious lady of cyberspace, existing only in email and digital pictures.

Safer that way.

I thought I was pretty brave getting rid of Bob the NY guy.  Normally I would have dated him for a year, had sex with him and perhaps even moved in with him before letting him know I thought we were getting too serious and I wasn't interested in dating him in the first place. 

Dating sucks.

*****

My friend Dana from work had her job interview today.  I'm quite sure she'll get the job, move on away from this sick little company we're in  and go on to be very happy.  My one shot came and went and I'm going to be left hanging when she leaves.  Does it make me a bad person to secretly hope she doesn't get the job and therefore has to stay and be miserable with me?  I don't really, you know.  But I will miss her desperately. 

They have no idea what would happen to that place if Dana leaves and if I followed right behind.  Yikes...they could replace us, for sure, but it would be a nasty couple of months!!

*****

Okay Margaret, you're forgiven your elf comment since you show VERY fine taste in men in every other respect.  (I'd do George Clooney in a hot heartbeat!)  And to be fair and honest as I know I'm supposed to be, his face does look a bit squashed, especially on the right side, but when he plays...mmmmm....Federer!!

I went to Brian's super bowl party.  It should have been fun, but I was completely out of my element.  All the women were people I hardly knew, and also, I couldn't remember if in a drunken stupor I had at some point in the past hit on their husbands (more than likely right in front of them.)  Plus, I tried pot smoking for the first time in my whole life sober, and it was perhaps not the perfect time to try that little experiment.

Brian had his usual Iron Chef cook-off and it was fun!  This year, because it was the first year I was able to come to the party (and be reasonably assured that I wouldn't be tempted to drink) I was a judge!!  The theme ingredient, much to my dismay, was peppers.  I'm not a hot kind of girl, so peppers did not thrill me and made it nearly impossible to judge fairly.  Add to that that Brian came up with some kind of funky judging point system, and I think the whole thing came out rigged in the end.  But my favorite placed and the top three dishes came out within a point of each other so everybody won! 

Smoking pot is (for me, at least) not all it's cracked up to be.  I was already uncomfortable, after all, and most of these people, if they'd seen me recently at all, had seen me drunk off my ass, possibly naked and doing things unacceptable even within the realm of normal drunks.  I couldn't talk to any of the men, for fear their wives would think I was flirting, and I couldn't talk to any of the women for the reasons mentioned above.  I also had to get home since Hope was waiting for me (I was supposed to be home in time for kick-off) but the judging went long and I couldn't make it back until after halftime in any event.  I was so afraid I'd get home and still be "stoned" and since while being stoned, I noticed I was completely incapable of stringing a complete sentence together coherently, I didn't want that to be noticeable to either Hope or my mom.  It was such an odd experience.  I have plenty of experience with being drunk and being able to (at least in the early stages) handle it fairly well, but this drug was freaky.  I would start a sentence with one idea in mind, and by the time I reached the end of the sentence, my mind had literally forgotten what it was going to say so I ended up completing on a completely different topic altogether.  So what happened was, since I already felt weird being there with these people, I was scared even more to talk for fear I'd sound like a complete idiot when I did!

I've never felt more isolated or more out of my element than I did at that party.  I felt like everyone hated me and was judging me.  And that was BEFORE my little experiment!  I'm not sure if I'll ever have a social life again.  A simple party left me feeling insecure and lowly for days afterwards.  I guess I will end up wearing my tin-foil hat, surrounded by cats and newspapers contemplating crop circles and the second shooter until I die, alone, of old age.

After the judging, I ended up sitting on the floor, watching the game, and completely isolating myself from everyone.  I went upstairs at least five times to get my camera and each time coming back down having completely forgotten what I went up there to do.  I know  alcohol can result in a complete loss of control, but I don't remember it making me an idiot (again, at least not at first.)  All in all, an experiment worth doing, but not one worth repeating.  I guess alcohol really is my drug of choice.

On the other smoking front though, I'm not doing well at all.  I was down to five cigarettes a day for a full week, including a weekend, and then my February 1st quit date came and I completely lost control.  I'm now back up to at least 10, probably more, and it's time to buckle down and start over.  I could beat myself about it.  Okay, I already have beaten myself up about it (while smoking the whole time) so now it's time to quit the beating and start the starting over.  Back to the paper clip rosary!!!!

Wish me luck!

I threw a screwdriver this weekend in a silly fit of rage.  Hope left the room briefly, then came back and gave me a giant hug while looking at me solemnly and saying, "I'm SO proud of you for quitting smoking, and I know it makes you irritable and I support you."  Ohmagosh, I got all teared up, she was just so darn cute and grown up.  She left the room because I think she was a little scared, but after thinking about it, she knew how to give just the right amount of support.  She's so proud of me, and wants so badly to help me quit, she braved my bad mood and ended up giving me just what I needed.

That's not to say that I didn't BADLY fall off the smoking wagon this weekend.  I was supposed to be down to five a day (although I was still allowed to smoke ten) in preparation for this week's five a day limit.  But alas, being at home all day on a nasty rainy weekend completely threw me off my rhythm.  I ended up smoking my entire 10 for each day (and maybe more because I sort of stopped counting after a while, my paperclip rosary thrown out the window.)  I can tell the weekends are going to truly suck when the magic cold turkey quit date begins.  No allowances for cheating then!!

Yesterday I got back on track and only smoked the five I was allowed, but again, it’s not so hard when I’m at work.  One on the way in, one at lunch, one on the way home, two at home at night, and sleeping pills to make me pass out by nine, before I can smoke any more!!!

Hope has been a true support.  Every morning when she crawls in bed with me, I tell her how I did the day before and I get huge hugs for if I did well and words of encouragement for the next time if I didn’t.

Our morning routine is so sweet.  My mother gets her dressed while she’s still asleep (as am I) then she crawls into be with me until she gets called down for breakfast. We both get up, I get dressed and she always eats quickly enough to come back up and spend some time with me before she has to leave at 7:00.  I leave by 7:15 and everyone’s happy.  The problems arise on the days when neither my mother nor Hope have to get up.  I’m completely immune to my alarm clock now, because it goes off every morning and I’ve learned to ignore it in favor of being awoken by my child.  Very bad news for me and work on school vacation days!

Evil Ex has gone back to his old ways.  He didn’t call for a couple of weeks, but I left a message on his voicemail telling him (nicely) that Hope is starting to ask questions and that this time, I won’t be able to cover for him as much as I have in the past.  Luckily, he did call her last night.  He does appear to be sick and told me he has suffered some depression lately which he said kept him from calling or coming to get her.  I feel for him on the one hand, depression can certainly be debilitating, but for his daughter he needs to drag himself out of bed long enough to make that phone call.  He apologized for not paying any child support lately, but it felt like more of a plea for me to say, “that’s okay” than for any real bad feelings on his part.  Oh well, at least he called.

Hope is doing well with her studying.  We’re taking the online CRCT preparatory tests and she’s doing remarkably well, but it’s difficult to tell how much subliminal help we’re giving her.  I guess it’ll all come out in the wash.

I finally spoke with my best friend of many years last night.  Luckily, she’s one of those friends, we can go years without speaking, and pick back up as if nothing’s changed.  It’s been at least four since we’ve last spoken and in the meantime she too has been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder.  Perhaps it’s the flavor of the month.  She has something weird though, she hears voices and she sees people.  She talks to them, almost as if they’re ghosts and strange things seem to happen all around her.  The first therapist she went to told her was seeing paranormal activity but this second doctor definitely wanted to medicate her.  I don’t really know that I agree with a bi-polar diagnosis based on “hearing voices” but then again, I’m obviously not a doctor.  But seeing people and hearing voices sounds like a problem, no matter what it turns out being!!

In a perhaps misguided attempt to keep myself too busy to smoke today, I'm going to try and give my site a whole new look.  But first I'll post here and then visit a few old friends.  My serious lack of commentors is giving me a complex!

Hope was sick on Thursday.  She complained of a bad  stomachache and then when my mom saw her a few minutes later (one of the many good things about having my mom work at her school) she was white as a sheet.  Mommy went ahead and brought her home, where she slept for about an hour, then woke up and puked her guts up all over my mom, herself and the bathroom.  She felt a little better after that but was puny for the rest of the night.  Of course, I panicked throughout, railed at my mom for not taking her to the doctor as soon as Hope complained of a stomachache and then got all angry and defensive when my mother dared voice the opinion that every little tummy ache didn't require a doctor's visit, especially one that wasn't accompanied by a fever or any other major symptoms.  It took a phone call to my friend Kelly ( a mother of three) in which she told me the EXACT SAME THING to convince me my mother was right.  Poor mommy, she never gets believed, but I'm such a paranoid mommy.  Hope is just everything to me!!

My job is going great.  I've met a "kindred spirit" there.  We're close to the same age, although she is much prettier, perkier and more modish than I am.  But whatever, she accepts me for who I am and we've even gone out drinking a few times with some people from work.  I just don't drink anything and she tells me I don't have to, I'm more fun without it than most people she knows are with it.  On Friday I  sort of explained why I don't drink.  I didn't use the "alcoholic" word, because (as with my last job) I didn't want to be branded with that label for the rest of my time there.  But I did tell her that soon after Hope was born, I got involved with a very bad person and then stayed away from home and drunk for five weeks.  That every time I sobered up, the shame and horror of what I was doing was enough to make me want to keep drinking to make it go away.  So (as I told her) I just decided that after that I chose to refrain from drinking at all.  That since I have a history of alcoholism in my family, I'd made a decision to not let that sort of thing happen again.   She was totally cool with that and had few stories of her own to tell that made me realize (once again) that I'm not the only one in the world with skeletons in my closet.

I like this job very much.  My mom told me last night, with tears in her eyes, that she hasn't seen me this happy in years.  Even with the trying to quit smoking and the stress of a new job, I seem happier and more at ease than almost ever before.  I agree, and I'm not sure why...but the people at my new job are nice, seem to like me and seem to appreciate the job I do.  There will be times, as there are at every job, when we all won't be getting along and when I screw things up and when I'll be unhappy or even miserable, but at least for now, I think the good will outweigh the bad.  I hope to not be a Receptionist/Admin. Assistant forever and in fact, this job includes very few phone calls. I do time-sheets, take sales calls, schedule all our sales leads and write out all our maintenance and sales proposals.  And that's just for a start.  I have a gut feeling that I'll soon be doing more and be moving up in the office hierarchy. There's not much room to move up, since there's only about 10 of us office folk, but I think I can make more of my job the more I learn. I'm happy, there's room to grow...and I'm making EXACTLY what I was making at my old job where I was miserable and stuck in a dead-end position.

Hope hasn't been doing so well in school.  We have been concerned for a long time, her reading isn't progressing like I want, her handwriting is abysmal and she can't spell the most basic words.  So my mom sort of snuck around the system a little and got the school psychologist to give her this different test.  Like an IQ test, the first part tests verbal skills and the second part tests non-verbal or matrices.

I'm not sure what that means, but she scored (overall) with a 137 IQ. There is a 10-15 point variance in there, but the test let us know she's not stupid.  So her scholastic issues are being caused by something else.  She simply doesn't care.  She doesn't pay attention, she doesn't listen, she fidgets and chews on her fingers and nails...but then again, sometimes she exhibits none of those behaviors at all!  My mom and the school psychiatrist are leaning toward ADD, but I told my mother (although we will have all the tests done now, because to wait would cost upwards of $900) that for this year at least, I refuse to have her medicated.  I'm such a weirdo.  I have no problems with medications that can help, I take 400 mg of a medication every night and will do so forever if it helps me keep my alcohol demon at bay, but for some reason I have an intense abhorrence to medicating Hope.  But even that doesn't make any sense.  I give her Singular every single night to control her asthma and get angry with EE when he makes an issue about "medicating my child."  No sense at all.

I'm off to tweak this sucker.  We'll see what it ends up looking like!!

A useless drunk or a sober loser?

Is that a question, a life choice or a new reality game show? No, but right now, this very moment, it feels like the only two options I've got. And I HATE it.

I'm still feeling that "less than" feeling today. It's not simply meeting old friends who've done so much with their lives, it's knowing how much of MINE I have wasted. I don't want to be like them, I just want to be more than I am and I can't get back the time. All those years are gone, I'm old, I'm single, I'm making right at poverty level, I'm not educated, I'm not anything I thought I'd be when I was twenty. I'm precisely where I WAS at twenty. Only older and with the knowledge that I'm still right where I was at TWENTY.

As Hope would say, "Mommy's on her period. She can't help it when she's silly."

I know part of why I'm feeling this way (aside from the hormonal issues). My good friend (best real life friend in the world) at work got promoted out of the trenches and into a lead position. I couldn't be happier for her. Except of course, she's moving (geographically) away from me. We've been together since I first started, side by side in our cubicles and now facing each other in our high tech "work stations." Because she's moving to another department within A/P, she has to physically move as well. I feel like I'm losing my best friend (I'm totally losing my best friend).

Okay, so maybe that's really why I'm sad today. I've known this was coming, they asked and I knew she would say yes if the money was right, but today it was made official and I'm really upset about it.

*****

Hope and her friend Bella live in adjacent school districts, so they won't ever go to the same schools. We kind of planned it that way. Well, I mean we wouldn't have NOT bought this house over it, but then again, we wouldn't have found this house because...well, you get it. My biggest fear is that Hope will go to school and somehow someone will know about my past and use it to hurt her. In this area, only Bella's mother and one other mother know about my past. The other mother WOULD use the information to hurt me, but she's well out of harm's way. Hope will probably never see her child again. But Bella...well, I trust her mother, mostly, up to a point, not to say anything about it...but what if she does? I don't want Hope to have to ever pay for what I've done in ridicule or pity from her friends.

Of course, I don't recall knowing anything much about my friends' parents. I remember my best friend's parents, they fought a lot. Called each other names all the time and her mother drank wine, lots of wine, every time I was over there. It didn't mean anything to me at the time, but don't kids know more these days? Notice more, especially about substance abuse? Or am I falling into that "old people" trap and thinking kids are so much worldly than they were when I was growing up when if fact nothing much has changed?

As always, I don't want Hope hurt because of my past.

*****

I was thinking on the way home today. My father would have destroyed Hope's soul had he been her father. Mine (somehow) managed to survive it, but she's so fragile sometimes, wears her heart on her sleeve and says what's in it no matter what...he, or someone like him would have completely broken her. I'm so grateful (this is going to sound weird) to be her mother, but for HER sake, this time. I mean, I'm grateful I'm her mother because I adore her and love her and all that good mommy stuff, but I think I know how to treat her, to make her strong, smart and fearless (do as I say, not as I do), but keep her lovely spirit intact.

*****
Dennis...I am marching in front of another mirror right now. I've smacked myself in the face so many times today...I can't believe I haven't knocked myself off this pity-pot yet. You know...I'll get there, I always get off of it eventually. There'll be another crisis of some sort to throw me into yet another WILD mood swing.

Oh, and don't worry, I'm laughing at myself. This post was hard to write because I don't feel nearly as horribly depressed as I did all day long RIGHT NOW, having eaten and bathed and read stories and cuddled for the last three hours. That takes the depressed edge off even the most hormonal bipolar alcoholic. At least it did this one. But the gist of how I was feeling is still in here, for those of you that made it all the way to the end.

Last night was amazing.

You know I never ask for money and I'm not starting now, but here's Hope's webpage for Jump Rope for Heart.

https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=123215&lis=0&kntae123215=9B86E23B40A7454CBDBF8630EF59AF3B

Check it out if you want. She's not a very good jump-roper, but it's the effort that counts!!

*****

Last night was amazing. I went over to SigOth's house (we finally talked and decided we could be "friends with benefits") but just before I left to go to his house, and old friend called. Jimmy, who I've known since college (so that puts it at 20 years) and haven't seen in over a year (because I tend to avoid any and all friends when I get sober, because every time I start seeing them again, I seem to drink) called to let me know ANOTHER old friend was in town, just for the night. That would be Frank, a guy I went to HIGH SCHOOL with and haven't seen in probably fifteen years or more.

I'd already told SigOth I was coming over, but I really didn't want to miss seeing Jimmy and Frank. So SigOth went with me! (He truly is a nice guy. Back and forth I go, back and forth.) Which was nice because first of all, Frank was staying at the Ritz and I would have been too intimidated to go alone, even if I could have found the place, and secondly, I was nervous. I mean, I haven't seen these guys in a long time...and they have both made such incredible lives for themselves, Jimmy with his Ph.D and his high profile job in Aerospace Engineering, and (although I couldn't remember exactly what it was) Frank with his success in his field.

Turns out Frank is a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills. Yes, that's right. Owns three practices and does research for drug companies (hence his all expense paid, first class flying, Ritz suite staying trip to a conference in Atlanta.) So, it was a terribly surreal thing seeing him. He looked totally different, Asian, but instead of the down to earth yet incredibly brilliant athletic type I'd know in high school, he was a spiky haired, dressed all in (I'm sure) high dollar designer black, and was a much thinner PLAYER type. He sort of oozed schmooze, if that makes any sense. He was still nice and sweet to me, friendly and really (for the amount of money he must make) unpretentious. He told me I was lovely as ever...blah de blah, but he was certainly nice.

I wasn't intimidated at all. Money never does intimidate me, it's attitude that can do that. He did a bit of name dropping, but only because I pressed him. Come on, how often do you get a chance to talk to someone who regularly sees Meg Ryan at his blockbuster? He talked about hanging out with Quentin Tarantino and how he sees Tom Cruise tooling around the neighborhood sometimes. Basically he was saying he is a mild acquaintance of some of them, but he was talking like they were all best buds or anything. And of course, he didn't specify any of his more high profile clients. (Although he did mention doing lyposuction on an ex Miss America who he said, had a six pack already but still felt FAT!!) Again, I didn't feel starstruck or anything. After all, this was FRANK...I put makeup on him for an eighth grade production of "A Christmas Carol", and he carved me an elephant out of sponge during our senior year in high school. It was just strange.

He proves, I guess, that money can't buy happiness. He talked a little about his relationship, lack of a "true love" and his desire to have children before he's too much older. But he works six days a week, and keeps long hours so doesn't have much time to pursue a romantic life.

He had been drinking and reeked of beer. Jimmy drank a little too, before we go there. It was Chinese New Year so he had been out with his family beforehand. I was so glad SigOth was there, he drove us all from the hotel to a Starbuck's where we sat and caught up until they threw us out at midnight. No, the fact that they'd been drinking didn't bother me, but again...Frank was the goody goodiest of guys in High School. It was just weird.

What did bother me was what a failure I am. Really, I'm not just the underachiever in my group of childhood friends, I'm the equivalent to living in a cardboard box under a bridge type person in my group of childhood friends. Not only am I not rich, famous or powerful...I don't even have a freakin' degree! And although being rich, famous or powerful would be GREAT and I wouldn't turn it down, I'd still kind of like to get that degree.

Total weirdness, all of it. With my twenty year reunion coming up this year, I'm not sure I even want to go. Sure...I'll be thinner than most of the women (smile), but still pretty much a failure. This sounds like I'm depressed, I'm really not. Just sort of resigned. Being depressed about it is really kind of stupid, it's not like I don't have control over my educational progress. Being depressed about something I can change is stupid. I guess I'm just annoyed with myself for being unwilling to take the risk. What if I can't do it? What if I fail? What if I succeed and I'm expected to know something at a job and then I DON'T? That's what terrifies me. I know I've said these same words so many times here, but they're still true.

I'm so afraid of failure that it makes me afraid of success. Blah.

Football and Delurking Week

As always, I've totally missed it...but if you stop by and read, please consider de-lurking just this once and leaving a comment. It would do my ego good (and if nobody actually de-lurks, please (those of your who read) consider making a fake name and leaving comments anyway. I'm so vulnerable right now! And read the post below to find out why. I always hate to post something frivolous right after a very serious post, because I'm afraid the serious one (and the one I need the most help with) will be largely ignored. Oh well, I guess that's the problem with my sudden renewed urge to post more often.

*****

Here we go. My picks for the games this weekend.

Washington is definitely going to win. I've never liked the Redskins all that much and I adore the Seahawks. What's not to love? The cutie little bird, the cool colors...and some of my bestest friends love them too? Sorry Tonya and Margaret, but you're screwed.

The Patriot's are going to win. For some reason, thinking of the Patriot's winning turns my stomach. Have they been really good for a long time? That's usually the only thing that gives me knee-jerk Football Hate towards a team. I don't know much about these teams so this one's probably up in the air.

The Colts will beat the Steelers. Only it will be really close, just to get my hopes up.

Panthers will beat the Bears. This one is rough. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the Panthers (the name), but the Bears have that old timey nostalgia feeling going on for me.

As we've seen recently, serious injuries and cute quarterbacks can severely affect my Curse. I think I can quite firmly stand behind the Redskins and the Colts to win, but the other two games will be more directly affected by how I'm feeling as I watch.

So there you go. Run out and place your bets.

*****

I bet you ANYTHING my curse will screw with me and every team I picked to win will lose. See, I picked them to win and will want to be right to save face. So I'll subliminally be rooting for the WRONG TEAM!!! Yikes.

Currently listening to Cool from the album "Love, Angel, Music, Baby" by Gwen Stefani

This is a long post.  If you don't care to hear (and I certainly wouldn't blame you) the details of my weekend, then here is the link to just look at a few pictures.  Sorry if they're all sort of the same, but if you read the post, you'll realize I'm having serious trouble with iphoto and .mac and my idisk and my computer in general.  Blah.

This month is going to kill me.  Or I'm just going to kill myself.  No single person should have so much to do in so little time.

I've had bronchitis for three weeks now, so am getting very little sleep.  I continue to lose weight, mostly because I forget to eat.  Truly, I FORGET to eat.  I'm busy, so damn busy, I don't even  notice I'm hungry.

Thursday night Hope's daddy called to ask her if she wanted to see him this weekend.  I wasn't on the phone, but from the next room I heard her tell him, "No, I have plans this weekend.  I'm spending the night with Bella Friday, Mommy is taking me to see The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on Saturday day, Saturday night we are decorating our big tree, Sunday morning we are sleeping in then making our gingerbread tree and Sunday afternoon we are going out with Mommy's friends from work to cut down MY VERY OWN Christmas tree from a TREE FARM."

And that's precisely what we did.  With a few minor additions.

I picked up a new vendor at work (all that means is that my work load doubled at both month end and YEAR end) which makes my working life a living hell.  I'd already worked 10 hours of (unauthorized) overtime, just to keep up.  I asked to leave at 1:00 on Friday so I could get Hope out of school early, get us both dressed, and go to see Santa at the mall before the after school rush.  They didn't seem too happy about it.  Today I got  "spoken to" for both working unauthorized OT AND leaving early on Friday.  I don't know exactly how that logic works, but then again, I'm not the boss.

We just BARELY squeaked in, we arrived at 3:35...and Santa takes his HOUR break at 4:00.  Ever since she was a baby and refused to take a picture with Santa without me in it, we've always had our picture taken together with Santa.  If you notice the picture, you'll see my hand inappropriately placed on Santa's leg.  Yes, I was patting it, and didn't even realize it.  (Maybe I have a thing for Santa's?)  I think I thought I was patting Hope...but I'm not sure WHAT Santa thought I was up to.  We're all smiling so I guess all is good.

Then I dropped Hope off at Bella's house and M and I went shopping.  M is the one I went to Disney with and M is also the one I was shopping with when I bought the $300 pair of boots I subsequently took back.  Anyway, we went shopping at the hugest, ritziest mall in our area.  My only reason for the trip was to have M tell me what to get Bella for Christmas.  What I didn't know was that M had this WHOLE list of things to shop for.  I spent way too much money (more on Hope, none on me) and didn't get back home until 11:00 Friday night.

I slept until 10:00 on Saturday morning, but when I got the call from M that Hope and Bella were up, I stopped by Starbucks, picked us up some coffee and headed over to pick her up.  Somehow I ended up staying until almost 1:30 and our movie started at 2:30!!!!  We rushed home and then back to the theatre.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe...WONDERFUL.  Beautiful.  I cried almost the whole way through it just like I did every time I read the book as a child.  Hope couldn't figure me out.  She's like, "It's a HAPPY thing, Mommy...Aslan came back to life!!!  You're not supposed to be SAD!!"  Very confusing for a child, I'm sure.

We decorated the tree.  I'd already spent hours and hours putting on the 375 million strands of lights (didn't I already write about that??) but still, we have a TON of ornaments so it took quite some time.  At first Hope was all into it, but after a while she was like, "You do it, Mommy.  I'll just do the angel when you're done."

My ipod died again.  They sent me a box to send it in to be fixed.  Right now I can use it (the ipod), if I thwack in on my desk, it starts up again.  I don't know if I can BEAR to be parted with if for however long it takes them to fix/replace it.  Maybe I'll just keep thwacking it until that stops working completely?

I missed having Christmas Eve with SigOth and his boys.  They did their Christmas Friday night and so Hope and I didn't get  to go.  I wanted so BADLY to spend time with him and his little family  this weekend, but I finally had to make a very difficult (but I think mature) choice.  Hope will be with her father next weekend, so this was the very last weekend we'd have together to get all our stuff done.  I know it disappointed SigOth and I wish things could have been different.  But his schedule with his ex didn't allow him to do his Christmas with his boys next weekend...it was just all a big mess.  Of all the weekends I could have used some time with him, this was it.  We didn't even get to talk because we were both so busy.

Sunday, Hope and I got up late and then had "breakfast" (at 12:00) at Starbucks.  What great mother I am!!  We got back and made our gingerbread tree.  As usual, I made the tree...she ate the icing.  It turned out cute though and was MUCH easier than our gingerbread houses of past years.

Late in the afternoon we met my coworker and her children at the tree farm, only to find that only the trees with tags on them could be cut down.  Of course, the only ones with tags were the fully grown ones.  BUT... there were some diseased trees (very young ones) they were going to have to cut down anyway, and by diseased, they just had brown branches on the bottom which would have spread as they got bigger onward and upward.  So the lady let Hope pick one out and GAVE it to us.  We have cute pictures of all of us cutting it down.  We stopped by Target on the way home to buy a stand, but got it home and it was way too big for our little Charlie Brown tree.  We ended up stuffing it through two bricks and propping it up in a pot in Hope's playroom.  She wanted colored lights (we put white ones on our tree) and I even made them blink because that's what I always wanted them to do as a child.  Hope didn't like the blinking though, so I had to find and change all those darn blinkie bulbs right after I put them all on!!  She loves her little tree though!

Work sucks.  I'm so far behind.  I'm not getting any sleep.  (Didn't I already mention that?)  Hope went to the doctor today (for a flu shot since she has asthma and the doctor said she needs to have one every year) plus for a "sick visit" since she's had a cough and the sniffles for a week or so now.  Turns out she's fine.  The doctor said she's probably just been keeping a constant cold, or catching new ones, nothing major and no infection.  So we'll just keep using the Singular to control the cough and Benedryl (wonder drug) for the sniffles.  I SHOULD have been there with her today.  That's one of my Mommy jobs, to be there for shots.  But I couldn't.  Work is just piling up.  She said it hurt SO BAD (but my mom said she didn't even sniffle) and I think she was adding a little drama to the whole thing.  You know how it is though when they give you vaccination...they're actually giving you a little bit of whatever it is they're protecting you from, so she was pretty uncomfortable and achy tonight.  She'll be fine by tomorrow!!

I went to my head doctor today to see how going up on my Lamictal has helped my moods.  I flat out told the lady, "I couldn't tell you.  I'm so stressed right now, I think you could inject me with just about anything and I'd STILL be out of control freaked out."  She told me to take some time for myself (right) and they'll see me again in February so maybe we can tell a little better.  OH, and YES, I'm on my stupid period AGAIN, so that makes my mood SO much better.

By the way, I know I should be using italics instead of BOLD, but it's too much trouble (I'm lazy, you knew that) so I just go with the bad chat etiquette of YELLING.

I contacted my Dad to let him know our change of address.  His wife always makes something beautiful for Hope very Christmas.  One year a gorgeous quilt and last year a hand made poncho.  Daddy is always every sweet in his emails, but it finally dawned on me that I NEED TO EAT, because he actually made a comment (after seeing the same pics you saw) that I'm "awfully skinny" and "maybe need to eat more chocolate." 

I spent hours this weekend (between all the other stuff) trying to sync up my idisk on my 'puter with my idisk on .mac so I could load all my pics on there for you to see.  There are tons and tons, but it just wouldn't let me do it.  I'm going to need a LOT more hours because I can't figure this damn thing out.  URRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!  Lots more time.

And there just isn't any.

So, I think that's it.  If you see this post before there are any pictures added (besides the link you'll see at the top) just to let you know, once I post this with Ecto, I'll go back and add in some pics to the post itself.  It may take me a while.  iphoto is SLOW AS CHRISTM...I mean SLOW AS MOLASSES, so it might take some time.  And again...

There just isn't any.

Okay.  This is freaky weird.  I did get my dsl working last night, but there was something wrong with the phone lines.  The ringers were acting weird and the answering machine wasn't working.  When EE finally got my upstairs phone line working last, he had to bypass the downstairs phone lines because the orginal wiring appeared to be all messed up.  So we called Bellsouth today, they came out and checked all the lines, only to discover that when Earthlink turned on my DSL here they installed some defective something or another which is what messed up the rest of the house.  SO, Bellsouth fixed their bit and put in a service order for Earthlink to fix their bit, which isn't going to be done until tomorrow.  Therefore I am without DSL service for the night.

Only I'm not.

So I've had this whole stupid night to blog because absolutely nothing I care to watch comes on on Mondays and I waited until I was SO BORED I figured I'd write something in a word document to post whenever I finally did get my dsl back and voila!!  I have internet access anyways!  What a night.

Hope doesn't have school tomorrow so she's down in her playroom (where the "formal living room" would be in a normal house) watching her very own satellite reciever programmed with only lid friendly shows.  It's 8:45 and quite dark outside.  I'm upstairs watching tv in my room, my mother is watching in the family room.  All of a sudden I hear the sound of children's voices downstairs.  Yes, our neighbor girl, Carla, and her girlfriend, have seen Hope playing through our shutterless window treatmentless windows and have knocked on the door and Hope promptly let them in.  They're ten.

They're ten and they ADORE Hope.  They're playing something called "four corners" which seems to involve a lot of counting and running around the room.  They played dress up and then they did some colouring.  It's almost 9:30 now and I don't know the proper etiquette for this situation.  On the one hand, the "mother" part of me seems to think there might be something wrong with having kids pop over in the middle of the evening to play.  But the "kid" part of me thinks how totally COOL is this??  Hope is having a blast and she's not parked in front of the tv as she would normally be.  I'm freely typing away and not listening to "you never play with me, I'm bored" over and over again.

The neighborhood I grew up in was much like this one.  But the HOUSEHOLD I grew up in was nothing like this one.  So I don't know.  Is it sort of normal in a close-knit neighborhood for kids to pop over?  In my childhood, NO ONE popped over to my house.  Because my father would never have allowed it.  I popped over to NO ONE'S house.  Because my father never allowed it. 

I realize it's a little late.  But none of them have school tomorrow.  The three girls (all dressed up like princesses from Hope's dress up box) have now walked next door to show Matthew (Hope's little five year old friend) what they look like.  And yes, it's 9:30.  I can hear them giggling and laughing and yelling outside the windows.  I don't know what the "mother" part of me is supposed to be feeling, but the "kid" part of me delights in every single bit of it.  I want to join them.

And NOW they're back and together cleaning up the playroom.  What a joy.

*****

The move hasn't (overall) been that bad.  My mother spent most of it in an extremely tense state.  We only had one toilet until yesterday.  They came to replace two of them two weeks ago, removed the old ones and sort of forgot to schedule a reinstallation.  Ooooops.  Try having your boyfriend spend the night and have your mother and daughter traipsing through the room several times a night to use the bathroom.  Oh, so romantic.

We handed over the keys to the old house today.  So we are once and for all and officially MOVED.

*****
There will be pictures soon and since I'll  be posting every night until you are all well caught up.  Oh yes...and I forgot....I went to this sex toys party last night, got some greeeat lingerie and some kinky toys...some of which I'm not at all sure how to use...I can hardly wait to tell you all about it!!

So much to write about, so little time.

*****
I saved this post, went into the bedroom to lay down with Hope as she had demanded since I promised last night, and God forbid I should forget a promise because she certainly never does.

We're laying there cuddling, with our arms around each other as she says:

"I don't think there really is a God."
Huh???  What the fuck???  Where did this come from...she's FIVE.  We aren't supposed to be having this conversation and I'm the LAST one in the world she needs to be having it with anyway!!

Me:  You don't think there's a God or you don't know there's a God.
Hope:  I don't know.  I don't know if he's real or not.
Me:  Well, God's not like Santa or the tooth fairy or the Easter Bunny.
Hope:  I know that.  (like, DUH, Mommy)  But I think he might be something people made up.
Me:  (Now I'm wondering if she's heard this somewhere else because it sounds entirely too grownup to come from her alone)  Hope, you're doing exactly what you're supposed to do.  Wonder and think about it.  Going to church can answer some questions, talking to the grownups in your life can answer some questions, but when it comes to believing in God, well...that's all on you.
Hope:  Do you believe in God?
ME:  (Shit shit shit shit shit shit)  It doesn't matter if I do or not.  Granna does, Gramma does...just about everyone you know does.
Hope:  But do you?
Me:  (Double shit)  I'll answer as honestly as I can.  Sometimes I do.  Every time I look at your face I know there is a God and he created a perfect child, a perfect bit of humanity to share my world.  Other times, I'm not so sure.  I've spend my life asking the same kind of questions you're asking me.  Is there a God?  Is there Heaven?  Or did it all happen over billions of years all by itself?  I generally choose a more scientific view of things.  But that's just me.  You'll have all the whole rest of your life to decide how you feel about God.
Hope:  (panic in her eyes)  There's no HEAVEN????
Me:  Sweetie, it's all about something called faith.  You won't actually see God here on earth.  I can't prove to you there's a heaven (or not) because anyone who might be seeing it isn't going to be in a position to tell you about it.   But if you believe, despite the not knowing "for sure", then you have faith. 
Hope:  But there is a Heaven...right?
Me:  (Sigh)  Yes.  There is a Heaven.  We're not square on the whole God issue yet, but yes, there definitely is a heaven.

Then I told her to quit asking me hard questions because she's getting too smart too fast and I'm going to need to go buy a book to deal with this.  We giggled and that was the end of it.  For now.

I didn't know what to say.  I'm her mother so (although I suppose I could) I'm not going to "make" her believe what I believe (or don't believe) but I also want her to know that even in this, especially in this, she MUST make her own decisions.   Religion and faith are so deeply personal.  I  only want to start her on a path she then traverses in her own way.

I'm off to amazon to buy a book.  Better yet, Dennis...got any tips???