Layin' it all out...

When I was 17, I got a really cute neighbor from Denmark.  I mean, drop dead gorgeous.  We got to be friends, and I had the biggest crush on him ever.  I knew right from the beginning that he was only going to be here for a year, but I didn’t care.  He was here for now.  Maybe something would happen and he could stay.  I was in high school.  I was naïve. 

As time got closer for him to leave, it started to hurt.  I was quite the drama queen back then, too which didn’t help matters any.  I think I made him a mix tape.  But like I said, and in my defense…I was friggin’ 17 years old.  Come on, cut me some slack.

When he left I was heartbroken for a long time.  I never saw him again.  He came back to visit me months later and…………….I was away at band camp.  I talked to him a couple times on the phone.  What's funny though is now, 17 years later, he is a Facebook friend.

Years down the road, after a marriage, a divorce, an engagement, the purchase of a house, the birth of a kid, and the death of the fiancé/father of the kid I thought I’d seen it all.  I was wise.  I was bitter.  I was hardened.  Never again would my heart break, never again would I be so silly.  I was a grown up now.

Now I am 34 years old.  Along comes Wayne:  another cute neighbor, another doomed romance.  A couple weeks after we started seeing eachother I was gone.  I couldn't believe I'd found this man.   I still remember him telling me that he was going to be moving away, just weeks into this and I actually cried, which is a big no-no in my book.  You don’t cry over a man.  Especially one you’ve only known for a couple of weeks. 

I finally put it in a different compartment to enjoy what we had for now.  Maybe something would happen and he would stay.

Seems I’m still naïve.

He’s leaving Tuesday.  Grant it, it’s not Denmark, it’s Nevada.  But I’m also 34, not 17.  I have this fantastic job.  I have this little girl that needs stability.  And this time I have a choice…do I give up the job?  Leave my friends and family?  Take my little girl’s world apart?

It’s been a rotten few days.  I thought I had about a month left with Wayne and he told me Sunday, in the feed room at the stable, (this I will never forget) that he is leaving Tuesday.  Today I called a very dear friend that I call a few times a week and haven’t been able to reach.  I got ahold of her tonight and the second she answered I asked how she was and she told me she has lung cancer.  And Friday I have to get a lump in my breast checked out. 

I’m running on empty here. 

So I’m putting all of this in it’s respective compartments.  As one of my favorite people told me, I’m putting it all on God’s big old front porch and letting him sort it out. This blog was supposed to be funny, and I hope I can get my funny back soon.  I’m pretty sure I will, I need something to get me through this that isn’t a prescription or that doesn’t come in the form of a 6 pack.  Right now I am just reassuring myself that the boob will be fine, Wayne won’t be able to live without me and he will come back, and my friend will go to her oncologist tomorrow to find out they were wrong. 

Wish me luck.

Vegas-the non-picture essay:

I didn’t want to go.  I couldn’t imagine leaving my kid and being that far away for that many days.  I resented the word “Vegas” because it meant abandoning my kid.

Holy crap, I had a blast.  I want to go back right now.  Shelby wouldn’t miss me, right?

I was really nervous about the flight, and unfortunately, we got to the airport 3 hours early so I had to dwell on it.  I hate the takeoff.  It scares me to death.   Luckily, there was a “Champs” bar conveniently located next to our gate, which meant I had no problems with the takeoff, but I had a massive headache when we arrived in Vegas.  We got to the hotel and hiked for four miles aimlessly while we looked for our room.  Everyone we tried to ask for directions was either from someplace Asian, or didn’t have their hearing aids turned up, and just nodded and smiled when we asked them where room 1848 was.  After we finally found it we found a gift shop that sold Advil, and had prime rib for dinner and crashed extremely hard for about 10 hours.

The rest of it was a blur.  We didn’t gamble much, maybe spent about $20 between the two of us.  We walked the strip a few times during the day and at night, and went to Fremont street, which was extremely cool and weird.  We visited Hoover Dam one day, and the next we took a road trip to Mesquite to meet the ex’s boyfriend.

The odd part was…I was hoping this trip would bring out some stuff we didn’t like about eachother and it didn’t happen (well for me anyway.  Of course it couldn’t have been HIM that woke up in the middle of the night in a tiny hotel room with explosive…well, never mind.)  But anyway, there were no arguments, no tense moments, no disagreements…just peace.  I spouted off my opinion a couple of times about the upcoming move, but Wayne just quietly moved on to the next topic in his…quiet, non-confrontational Wayne way.  There was NO drama.  AT ALL.  I didn’t even cry or nothing (well, until the plane ride home when he fell asleep with his head on mine, but I swear it’s because he drooled, not because I was a totally emotional mess that I am losing this guy in 3 weeks or anything.)

What sucks though, is I am in denial.  I don’t want to reminisce over this trip.  I don’t want to see pictures of anything except the ones I took or hear about anything Vegas.  I’ve put blinders on so I can’t see what is behind me or next to me but I have my eyes shut so I can’t see what’s in front of me, either.  Thank God I’m busy this week.  I guess I don’t want anything to ruin what little time we have left.  He texted me yesterday that he has a job interview in 3 weeks and I had to force myself to text back a “congrats” instead of throwing my phone across the room.  He wanted me to help him find a camper shell for his truck for his move and I wanted to tell him to shove his truck up…well, never mind that.  Like I told a friend, I keep praying that God will give us more time so I can learn to not like him since that seems to be what happens in all my other relationships!  I guess that’s just not the plan, though.  The more time we spend together, the worse it gets and the angrier I get.

I’ve been through worse.  I keep telling myself that.  I can get through this.  It just sucks when you know that it IS something that can be changed, but no one wants to change it.

Vegas

I have the first few moments to myself I have had in a while...Shelby is at a friend's house and Wayne and Ryan are off watching a guy movie, so I thought I would share some Vegas moments below:



This is what got me on the plane.



Alright fine.  THIS is what really got me on the plane. 

I was wondering why I couldn't feel my lips when that picture was taken, but apparently it's because I don't have any.





I asked him to flex and he went the extra mile.

God Bless the zoom lens.

Oh no we di'nt.



This is how I looked after the second day.



Wayne has a superhuman ability to tell the moment just before the camera snaps...and there you go.  At least I didn't post the picture of the place he gave me to park my bike.









Notice the annoyed sales lady in the background.  Or...is that a look of intrest?



No comment.

Leaving

I was going to spend the week writing about my pets in hopes to make me start to feel some warmth towards them again.  Bah-forget it.

I found this comment in the “Comment” section of Indychannel today.  Normally there isn’t a whole lot of intelligence or insight to be found on the comment section of Indychannel, but this one struck a chord with me.  People were whining and complaining about what a horrible state Indiana is, and having dated one and currently dating another man that hates this state, it struck a nerve.  Then I read this comment, posted by someone called “Carpe Diem”:

“I always laugh when I see people complain. I used to feel the same way. I always thought that every place was so much better than right here, and I would never come back to this "awful state". I traveled and lived in different cities around the U.S.  
 
You know what I learned? It makes absolutely NO difference where you live. Each of the "Meccas" have their own negatives. I decided the perfect place to live is where the people I love the most are. I created my "Mecca" in my home and backyard. I can go to museums, cook, read, travel, and surround myself with family and friends .  
 
I have also found that people who are miserable and complaining will be miserable and complaining no matter where they live. Good luck with that. You might try Prozac instead of a moving van. A little Prozac also might make you more tolerable to family and you will have more friends. You may even decide to stick around.”

Amen.

My brother told me once that I take things too personally.  Yeah, being the youngest, I probably do.  As I mentioned above though, hearing someone constantly tear apart the state where I live and the people that live in it, where my home and my family and my friends are, does hurt me because in a way they are ripping on me and what I am about, where I grew up, and where I simply “am”.

I’m not saying there are other places I would love to go.  I love Colorado.  When I visited there I felt a peace I’d never felt before.  I love Buffalo, I feel a comfort there knowing that is where both of my parents grew up and seeing the places where they may have hung out, and went to school.

My jobs are here.  One of which can be pretty draining, but it has seen me through 11 years-a divorce, the birth of a kid, and the death of a boyfriend.  The other one is a dream I have always had since the first time I ever got on a horse.  I’ve always wanted to work in the horse world, and now I am.  It also came with something I didn’t know I had, a huge adoration for kids with special needs and a huge desire to work with them.  My family is here, my friends are here, and every home I have ever had is within a 20 mile radius.  You can’t take that stuff away from me.

I’m losing my boyfriend to another state.  He doesn’t have any ties here and his son is moving away so I can definitely understand and respect that.  He hates it here, he hates the weather, and he’s not so keen on the people, either, being from L.A..  The thought of losing him absolutely sucks and it hurts.  Of course the question of whether or not I would move for him has come up, and that’s where all this is coming from.  I feel like there should be some question or indecision but there isn’t.  I kept thinking, if it is in God’s plan for us to be together, something will change and he will stay here, that his son won’t end up moving.  None of this happened, and a month from this moment right now he’s going to be gone.  No more purple truck across the street, just an empty apartment I have to see every time I leave for work and a heartbroken kid.

I need some prayers and I'm gonna need my peeps over the next couple of months, but like that guy said, my "Mecca" is here.

Kitties

In my quest to reconnect with my pets this week instead of resent, I’m going to take the next few blogs as opportunities to find the good, funny things about my pets.

As I stated on Facebook earlier, I’ve had cats my whole life, many different cats.  Tonight, as I gathered a cat up in each arm to carry them away from the mouse cage, I realized one thing:  Every single time I have ever picked up two cats at the same time, one of them finds it to be a prime opportunity to beat the holy living crap out of the other one.  “Haha, you’re trapped, just like me, and you’re MINE now, sucka.  Make sure you dig your claws into mom’s back fat while I slap your face mercilessly so she can drop you on your head again.”

I’ve slammed doors on heads, hips, tails, and they still run like there is a fire to get out the front door before it shuts.  I mean, I feel their pain, I can totally relate sometimes but what is so enticing about racing out the front door and down the stairs, just to get the heebie jeebies and race back up the stairs and back into the house again?  Nemo however has gotten over being scared.  He sits down there and waits for one of us to pick him up so he can turn into a noodle and shift all 15 of his gelatinous pounds to his head, causing us to drop him on his face.  Emma, who has lived here for 4 years, races back to the top of the stairs and then moseys over to the wrong door every time.

They say cats are born knowing what the sound of an electric can opener means.  What is weirder is my cats eat only dry food and I have a manual crank can opener.  I’ve tried the electric ones but have pretty much destroyed them going all ballistic because I don’t have the patience for the moon and stars to correctly align so it will open my can.  However, my non electric can opener is relatively silent and they can still hear me crank open a can of peas from the other side of the apartment.

I am very strict about the cleanliness of the litterbox, and so is Nemo because if I don’t shovel it out at least twice a day he starts his own personal turd collection behind the TV.  He’s found that they are safer behind the TV because if he puts them somewhere else, like say, in front of the TV the dog steals them.  ‘Nuff said.  Anyhow, the box is located next to the water heater, which Emma tries to use to bury her waste when she is done.  Yes, I’m talking about the water heater.  8 lb cat vs. gazillion pound water heater.  After years of this not working, she still spends five minutes digging at the side of the water heater before she is satisfied enough to walk away from it.

Nemo is completely unaware of the danger of small children.  You see pictures of little girls stuffing 20 pound cats into doll dresses, and the cat has this look of complete resignation and general ticked offed-ness on its face.  Not Nemo.  Nemo’s expression never changes.  No matter what torture Shelby is putting him through, he always looks like he just spotted a rainbow, or a plate of cupcakes.  The only other expression he sports occasionally is of complete exhaustion after spending the evening being mauled and humped by the dog.

These are the things that have kept those cats safe in my home for all these years.

Life is...Short

Life is Too Short

Bruce’s death taught me lot of things, the main thing being that life is too short.  I use his death as an example because he was only 33 when he died.  “The Sharp Knife of a Short Life” as the song says.  Looking back, and seeing all the things I said to him and nagged at him about break my heart, because they don’t matter anymore.  I hurt his feelings and made him mad over stupid, meaningless, pointless stuff, and then he was gone.

For a while I was so bitter, and so righteous and considered myself to be quite the expert on heartache and life in general.  I would get so mad when I would see a couple argue.  I just wanted to shake them and scream “One of you could be dead tomorrow!”  People’s problems seemed so trivial to me, because I was such an expert on what a “real” problem was.  At the same time, there were things I wouldn’t let go of because I couldn’t stand the thought of another “loss”.  I put up with an extraordinary amount of crap because hey, life is too short.  There does have to be a balance (and mine was way off.).

Don’t get me wrong…I still try to be the least dramatic person I possibly can (although I have my moments, and I’ve had A LOT of them lately).  But I do feel like people (including my hypocritical self) miss out on a lot.

So, a few rules to live by since…life is too short:

Sometimes, if it isn’t a safety issue and isn’t going to hurt anything, it really is okay to just smile and nod, keep your opinions to yourself, even when you think someone has done or is about to do something stupid.  Does it matter in the grand scheme of things?  Is it worth losing a friend/family member?  Do you enjoy being a buzzkill?  Do you like seeing someone’s expression change from joy to defeat because you opened your mouth? If so, it’s gonna rock when they prove you wrong.  You aren't going to win.  You lose, no matter what the outcome is.

This one I learned from my boss, who raised 3 kids and now has a pile of grandkids:  Yes, they are annoying, they are exhausting, and they are slightly psychotic, but don't break a little kid's spirit.  Choose your battles.  Let them make some of their own decisions and suffer from the consequences occasionally.  Sit back now and then and watch them work through it.  Well, unless it involves property damage or a potential visit to the E.R. 

Stay here on earth...I have friends on Facebook whose statuses I have blocked because they are just constant, angry, opinionated political rants.  So what is going on in your own life?  How happy are your kids?  How clean is your house?  How neat is your checkbook?  How much do you like your job?  What is sitting in front of the computer and TV watching national and world news doing for your blood pressure?   Is it going to change Obama?  Is it going to help the economy?  Shut up and go take your kids to the park.

Your kids are always going to be there.  Your boyfriend may not be.  'Nuff said.

Just a few thoughts for you and reminders to myself.  We are only a few seconds on this big ol' time clock called Life.

Another 10 Things I Learned This Week

1. It’s totally okay to keep your mouth shut and opinions to yourself sometimes.  As fun as it can be to completely suck the joy out of someone and break their spirit, it’s not completely necessary, no matter how stupid you think they are.
2. If you buy a mouse a lookout tower that attaches to her cage, she will spend the entire night noisily dragging every piece of food she can find up the tube that leads to the lookout.
3. No matter how much money you spend fixing a Buick, it will never be satisfied.  Sometimes you just have to give up, hope for the best, and have your living-will updated just in case.
4. Ballet lessons really don’t cost $48 a month.  That’s just what they tell you so they can suck you in.  Next thing you know, you are out $500 in recital fees, picture days and costumes.
5. If someone is spying on your Facebook page, they pop up in your list of suggested friends.  Now every time I log onto Facebook, I have the delight of seeing a picture of my ex-boyfriend’s psychotic girlfriend.  Now she’s updated it to a picture of the two of them together, gazing dreamily at the camera in matching Steelers gear.  Barfo-licious.
6. 7 year olds are incredibly malicious.  Bitter divorcees and car salesman pale in comparison to 7 year olds.
7. A horse cough/fart combo can send a little boy in to a fit of hysterical laughter so hard that he has to be held up on his horse.  I do have to admit though, it was pretty spectacular.
8. There is a direct correlation between gas prices and my fuel light.
9. Tractor Supply’s 4 Health dry cat food smells worse than canned cat food.
10.  It is really hard to think of 10 things that you learned in a week.