I'm Definately Sore, Not Quite Badass ... YET

Sometimes stepping out of my comfort zone scares the crap out of me. For instance I rarely leave the Orange Curtain because driving in Los Angeles scares me to death.  I got lost downtown once and of course it was in the fashion district and of course I was broke.  My friend was laughing hysterically at me on the phone trying to direct me back to the freeway,  I haven't been back since.  

I feel the same way about trying new things.  I wrote about starting Brazilian Jiu Jitsu here,  I started it for one week.  Other than learning the most basic move; I can't remember how to execute anything I learned,  

It isn't exactly my fault that my try only last one week.  The boys came home from their one month excursion three weeks early and totally put a kink in my training.  My life went back to it's usual hectic pace and I was mad because I totally planned to nap at least once during their vacation and never got it in!

Now the whole reason I had started it was because my son was owed 1 month of training because I paid for June and he never went due to his theatrical schedule.  There was also the free month of training that everyone gets to start out.  My son wanted to go to taking gymnastics.  I thought I was golden. I thought at the end of those two months, I would walk around with Katy Perry's Roar following me wherever I would go.  I would finally have a reason to get my Warrior Princess tattoo,  I would be badass AT LAST. 

Except....

His dad said he had to go back because he had only trained for six months and we had already paid for his gi.  He said he had to do BJJ for one more year (about how long it should take him to outgrow the gI) and then can go back to gymnastics if he still wanted.  There went my 1 of my free months.  I realized that $250 a month for the two of us to take it was too much for me to afford.  My child was incensed.  "It's not fair mom; if I have to go back - YOU have to go back.  Figure it out mama" (Now sure how he can be a male mini me and sound just like his dad).

So Gman made his return after a summer of swimming and awesome upper body strength.  His professor asked where the hell I had been.  I explained that the blonde monkey was coming back and there went the freebie.  I explained my financial situation and he made me a deal that I couldn't refuse.  I relayed the discussion to the ex and informed him that I was essentially the new poster child for women's self defense at the studio and I had to go back.

The second time around was even scarier than the first time around.  Summer break was over and more people came back.  More men with blue, purple, brown and black belts.  Loud, crude men.  I walked into a boys club and I was scared. I walked in though.  I announced I was back and said "let's do this" I had to remind everyone that I did have a name and it wasn't "Gman's mom" and to tell them they didn't have to change their vernacular from "Alright guys" to "Alright guys AND gals"  I'm in their world and don't want preferential treatment.

 Most of the warm ups are like a yoga class on steroids and my fat rolls get in the way.  While I have a ton of leg strength, I lack arm, back and core strength,  I am also fat.  Yeah I said it - I am fat.  So when my son's best friend''s dad isn't there - I have to do a lot of actual exercise.  Like 40 lunges, 40 squats, 80 leg lifts while I lay on my hand and between 20-40 push ups everyday.  Then there are a couple of techniques I had to work on.  

It's hard.  I can't walk.  My core is sore.  My back is stiff.  I leave a hot and sweaty mess (as opposed to my usual just hot mess standard).  I prefer the days when I can actually work more on technique so I can someday spar, but that is a LOOOOONG way out there.  There is a great sense of accomplishment when you can throw someone down and mount them.  Yes they are rolling so that I get the feel for it, but  it's the most fun I have ever had working out.

Then I try to use what I learned on the ex.  This is when reality sets in.  I am damn weak,  He's bigger and stronger than me.  He has also watched Gman do this for 7 months and has picked up a thing or two.  I can't escape out of any situation he puts me in yet.  He lets go when I tap though.. The goal is to take him down, or at the very least hold my own against him.  Not because he's evil or abusive, but because he is bigger and stronger and won't take it easy on me.  When I can actually hold my own against him- it will be because everything I have learned fell into place.  He;s very supportive of this endeavor.

.  

As for the classes with these large and intimidating guys?  They don't care.  What I am learning doesn't affect their training.  They respect that I am trying.  They were all brand new white belts once. They are all very supportive actually.  When I didn't show up for open mat, I was reamed out by one of the assistants for my excuse of not knowing what I was doing.  He personally offered to work with me if nobody else would.   I may not ever compete, but I represent the women they want in the class. 

I am part of a team. 

And that is a sentence I never thought I would utter!

The Monster Isn't Going to Win

Sometimes I have to stop reading the news.  Sometimes I just get too far in.  Like when my friend Richie was killed two weeks ago.  I read the news daily to find out all I could, but it just sucked me down deeper into the abyss that wants to claim me for good.  I had to stop. Why am I still here when he did more than I do?  I was mad that he was dead and the the tweeker behind bars isn't.  

The same thing with the death of Robin Williams.  I have read all the details.  I have read all the outpouring of love, the criticism and everything in between.  I had to stop reading. To the world is a tragedy.  To the rest of us in the daily throws of battling depression it was a mere reminder that we might be next.  The only difference between Robin hanging himself Sunday and me not popping too many pills is that as dark and as low as I get - I have an eight year old boy who needs me.  He is the ONLY thing that keeps me here.  

He is too young to remember when after a brutal fight with his dad and I took an entire bottle of atarax and then went for a walk.  I actually took myself to the ER to admit what I had done, but I was sleepy and didn't want to deal with the paperwork.  

So I walked home.

Ten minutes later the police were there, as was the ambulance and the fire department.  He is too young to remember being pulled out of my lap as I was given the option to come with them by my own devices or I could be mandatory 5150'd.  So I did.

I was taken to the hospital and given a "private" room in the ER.  I was given a very nasty charcoal drink to counteract the pills.  There was a security guard outside my door.  I was on 'Suicide watch".  I couldn't even go the bathroom in privacy. I had to have a nurse hold the door open and watch.  That was the easy part.

The hard part was the social worker who showed up at 7 pm.  I told him my side.  The ex told him his side. It was decided that I needed to go to the mental hospital..  I had no say even though I went to the hospital voluntarily.

The rest of the time was spent in and out of sleep. Until 2 am when the next ambulance came to take to me to my destination.  The mental hospital.  I was strapped to a gurney with both arms and legs secured.  It seemed like forever.  I didn't know where I was going and when I got there - I didn't know where I was.  

It turns out that I didn't make it to the hospital - it was more like the processing building with beds.  I met with a doctor who didn't seem to stoked to be awoken for this.  It was decided I was bored housewife seeking attention. Nobody even took the circumstances into consideration which really pissed me off, but it was better than actually being committed.  He said he would call my husband in the morning and I could go home as long as he would come get me. Then asked if I needed anything to sleep.  Hello -  I just took an entire bottle of something that made me sleepy - uh no.  I was showed to my room and I was too scared to sleep.  I listened to he next person get processed.  He blacked out and beat the crap out of a bunch of people and then really flipped when taken to jail.  The person after him was just plain crazy.  They weren't given the option of going home in the morning.  Eventually exhaustion took over the fear and I fell asleep.

The morning came way too soon.  I was offered breakfast with my 2 other fellow crazies.  The last one never came out and the 2nd one tried to make conversation with me.  I decided I wasn't hungry and went back to my room.

Eventually I was released into the ex's care.  Since I didn't go the hospital - it was not considered a 5150 which means I could never be accused of imcomptence, but for the safety of others and myself would never be allowed to by a firearm.  Later I was told the only reason the ex agreed to pick me up was that he didn't want me to have to explain to my job why I wasn't going to be there for the next three days.

So after my last half hearted attempt last year - this is what keeps me alive:  The thought that if I don't succeed I will get committed and if I do succeed - my luck would be that it would be my son who finds me.

This sucks because it doesn't do anything to make it better.  It doesn't make the black grey.  It doesn't change the fact that I have people who love me and care but it isn't enough to not want to succumb to the black. It doesn't stop the fights that drive me deeper.  It doesn't stop the feelings of worthlessness, uselessness and hopelessness.  It just means that I don't want to traumatize my son anymore than I do on a daily basis with my mood swings and just total inability to get it together.  For a long time I tried to numb life with different pills just to keep the edge off so that I could function. Pain pills did more than take away the physical pain - it took away the emotional pain. Having a history of massive headaches - pain pills were readily available.  Doctors out here will give them to you for a hangnail if you cry loud enough.

I would wait for the warm fuzzy feeling to hit and then I could deal.  The ex didn't bother me as much.  The kid couldn't agitate me.  I'd like to say that I was strong enough to stop, but eventually the doctor cut me off.  After a three week come down - I am now dealing with life unaltered.  It isn't fun, but popping pills every 6 hours to function wasn't either.

I'm sad that Robin Williams didn't have that one thing to keep him from slipping.  That one idea that allowed him to hold on one more day.   Glennon Doyle said sometimes it just waiting the monster out until he tires and moves on.  It's hard, but my child needs me and I CANNOT let the monster win.

If you are slipping into the dark.  Don't let it win.  Tell a doctor.  Tell a trusted friend. Email me. Call (1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Find that small light and don't let the monster win.  We can do this together.

I Don't Ask for Much, but Today I Ask for Your Help

Imagine hearing a knock on your door.  It's very early in the morning and a couple is standing there asking to you if they can use your phone.  Your husband, trying to be a good citizen let them in.  They pull a gun on him.  He tries to get the gun away because his family is in the house.  You try to help and you are stabbed in the back with a screwdriver.  The couple gets the gun back and then shoots and stabs your husband in front of you and your children. 

This sounds like a plot from a blockbuster movie or the great summer novel; but it isn't.  It was a news story that started small and slowly made it's way national.  If you haven't read about it - you can read it here in  People Magazine or here in USA Today or simply Google Las Vegas Home Invasion and you will get a plethora of articles about it.

Why you ask.  Why am I writing about this?  Why?  Because the widow Julie Ramos is a very good friend of mine.  Her sister in law is one of my best friends and you have read about our misadventures on this very blog.  Julie and I were pregnant at the same time.  Her youngest (who incidentally witnessed the entire encounter including watching his dad get shot) is just 3 months younger than GMan.  I've known Julie and Richie for almost 10 years.  I've watched them build their life from low times to having a great life in Las Vegas.  Richie was the head of household and supported the family so Julie could stay home and raise the kids. When he let the intruders in to use the phone, he was trying to set a good example for his kids.  To be the kind of person who helps those in need.  He wasn't judgmental even though most of us who have seen the pictures of the accused have said to themselves "What was he thinking?".  That's just the kind of man he was.

Because they had a single income - the money for funeral expenses is almost non-existent.  The family has set up a Go Fund Me account which can be accessed Here.  Or you can go into any Chase Bank with this account # 3026062744 and donate in person.  The funeral expense in and of itself are over $13,000. Anything left over will go towards helping provide for his children. I am asking all of my readers to help out if they can,  Any amount is appreciated because it all adds up.  My son who is the self proclaimed king of the Rainbow Loom has been begging me to buy him a Super Fun Loom.  When he found out what happened to Aunt Julie and Richie; he asked if he could donate the loom money instead of spending it on him.

If you can't donate; could you share this post?  

This is just such a random and unspeakable tragedy.  It could happen to any of us.  It could happen to me; it could happen to you.  Thank you in advance from the bottom of my heart.

Kathy

I'll Either End Up Badass or Sore. Either Way- Bring It!

I love when I get the opportunity to reinvent myself.  It has been hard of late because I exchanged the "Single" freedom I had for the opportunity to tuck my child into bed every night.  As much as yearn for alone time, I love being the last person he sees before the manic energy of an eight year old winds down to the sleeping angel.  My weight has ballooned and as much as I want to whine about it - sleep at 5:30 am is greater than getting up to go work out.  I am not alone in this theory.  After a week of me and my neighbor trying this feat, we both came up with an excuse the next week to get out of it.  Treadmills are boring.

So I had come to terms with the fact this is me.  I mean my work crush doesn't think I am fat.  As he lead me to his office with a plate of wood fired pizza in hand,  I told me he was singing a fat girl's song.  He told me to let him know when she got here.  I tried hard not to blush.  Coast Guard Guy thinks I'm perfect the way I am although he has only seen very well positioned photos.  

I am not satisfied though. 

Nothing fits.

Again.

I look horrible in my bathing suit.  Now I don't look as bad as some do at the pool.  I just don't subscribe to the "If you can't tone it - tan it" philosophy.  Kudos to those who do.  I am just not that comfortable showing my excess. Unless it's my boobs.  I am rather proud of the Belinda and Belysle.

So I have one month to make changes.  My child and his dad are taking a month long vacation and I get to stay behind to try not to kill the fish. Life reinvented,  Much needed sleeping in. Only cleaning up after myself,  No getting tiny rubber bands stuck to my feet. For one month.

What are my plans this time (as you roll your eyes having read this many times before)? My plan is to badass.  Badass like this chick.(yes I know Ronda Rousey is a judoko, but still - a 16 second take down is pretty impressive in my book)

I shall roll around on a mat while guys twice my size throw me around like a rag doll. I will come out a month from now with more stamina, strength and courage than I have now. No, I am not shooting a porno.  I have decided to try Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.  

My son trained for about six months, but got sidelined by his school play and never got interested in coming back. He's more of a lover than a fighter anyways. 

 I have the assurance from my son's best friends dad that I am not going to die.  He's been at it for over a year.   I beg to differ about the dying part. .  I am SORELY out of shape.  I have watched from the sidelines - I know what the warm up are.  Add push ups (which I can only do on my knees) and sit ups (which I can't do AT ALL) to the mix and I am going to be toast.  I am more scared about the warm ups than I am the actual class.  Oh, did I mention - it's ALL GUYS in the class - most of whom are blue and brown belts.  The instructor assures me the men will have nothing but mad respect for me.

I 

AM

GOING 

TO

DIE

For reals.

Why am I going to subject myself to this?  I need to get back into shape.  I need to instructed and bossed around.  Once I lost my personal trainer - I lost all motivation.  Well that and I didn't want to run into boot camp guy (who knocked up Toe Ring Tramp incidentally.  If you are new to the blog- read all about that adventure here). I need a challenge and a place to vent my aggression.  What better place than the mat? 

I have a month to get things back together in my life without the distractions of well - life. I don't expect to be able to overtake anyone.  I just want to be able to hold my own.  Whether on the mat or in real life - isn't that all we really want? So my birthday present to myself will be the gift of me,  I can't wait to unwrap myself next month!

Ring On - Hands Off

When I decided that I would move back in with the ex on a purely platonic level; I decided to forget about dating.  It was too hard to try to explain my situation to future suitors and I have an eight year old who is very possessive of my time.  So I quit.  Sadly with that I also let myself go.  I sealed my heart up, buried all feelings all feelings for the opposite sex down deep.  Very very deep.  So deep that I almost had myself fooled that my heart was a block of ice.

Then it happened.  I switched jobs and met "him".  The "one".  The perfect match. He hails from the state above mine.  He excels in his profession.  He has a dry sense of humor.  He's playfully evil.  He plays video games.  He is a total geek.  He's almost perfect.

Almost.

He also belongs to someone else with those five little words - "TIL DEATH DO US PART".

Boom.

That was the door slamming in my face.

Now mind you there is NOTHING I plan to do about this.  I have had my homewrecker moment.  I was so selfish with my own wants believing everything this older man fed me.  He had my worship and ultimately led me to bed. (Our cover was almost blown when we had to drive back to the club the station was holding a Halloween party at because I forgot my keys)  Never once did I think about the wife.  All I knew was that I was getting attention and a lot of free CD's and concert tickets.  What can I say - I had a thing for DJ's back then.  It is not a mistake I will make again.

It just sucks.  Once he asked me to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter with him as we lambasted the fact that it is only in Orlando.  He wasn't serious, but that was the most swoon worthy thing I had ever heard. It's like inviting a card shark to Vegas. The other day we were throwing Harry Potter curses at each other.  (I shouldn't be writing this - he used the killing curse on me twice!).  He's shared food truck pizza in his office with me while trying to break down The Walking Dead to Me.  All this is fun and flattering, but at the end of the day - he goes home to someone else.'

WHY WHY WHY?  This is so UNFAIR.  It is hard enough to find a man that truly gets me and shares my same interests.  It's like the gods of love are toying with me.  They are dangling the elusive carrot in front of me, but I am not going to take the bait. I'm going to use a stronger padlock on my heart and then throw away the key.  Then I am going to bury it so deep that it will never see the light of day again and when it does - it will be a fossil.  Generations will study it and say "wow - so this is what unrequited looks like."

Or I could just quit being so dramatic and just take it for what it is.  An amusing passage of time at work.  Surely there is another guy similar out there ear marked for me...right?

Where Do We Draw the Line?

Recently I stirred up quite a controversy for myself on Facebook.  It had my parenting skills called into question and led me to ask when do you respect your kid's opinions?

Let me give you some back story.  Last December after many months of asking me questions about God I just couldn't answer; my child decided he wanted to start going to church.  I discussed it with his father and he was OK with it as long as we didn't go the Catholic route.  There is so much corruption in the world that we both figured a little spiritual grounding and moral structure couldn't hurt him.  So I found us a church.  The director of Children's Ministries was amazing and patient with me.  She answered all my numerous questions and made our transition into the church a very smooth one.  For the most part we were very happy there.  Gman would invite friends to go with us and we even managed to bring a close family friend in to worship with us.  I would say we only had about 4 months invested in the church though because we easily missed at least four Sundays.

In that time Gman flourished under the guidance of the Children's Director. In typical Gman fashion he spouted bible learnings that seemed far more advanced than a small child should understand.  I fully credit her for seeing that he had to desire to learn and she let him absorb the teachings like a sponge. He loved this teacher and told me more than once he didn't like the classes the other teachers taught when she wasn't there.

Over the weekend she sent us an email letting us know that she had been relieved of her position at the church (Yes she knows I am writing about this & No, she doesn't mind because everybody knows) and wouldn't be back. When I broke the news to Gman, he had more than a few choice words about the church which he was immediately corrected on.  He then told me he didn't want to go back.  He thought it wasn't fair and took a hard stand.

When I posted that trying to find a new church was exhausting - all hell broke loose.  One friend said that I should be mom and not let my child dictate what we were and were not going to do.  I made the mistake of saying that I usually don't. Another very good friend called me out on it and it pissed me off,  Who wants their parenting criticized for the whole 105 friends of mine to see? 

I know exactly what incident she was speaking and she was right. (yes I just admitted I was wrong) . I do let my child make decisions that influence the family. Maybe the one she had in mind wasn't one of the better times, but for the most part our family can be a democracy.  We are interested in what our child has to say and why he feels the way he feels. We want him to know his opinion is important.  We may not always agree, but we will always listen  He doesn't run the total household though.  When he says he doesn't want to go to school he is told 1) suck it up you are going, or 2) you must be sick so if you stay home - you are bed bound all day.  Needless to say he goes to school unless he is sick.  When he doesn't want to go to jiu jitsu, I also tell him to suck it up or I tell him that's fine, but if he skips that particular day - he can just be content knowing it's his last month taking it.  I won't spend $100 a month I don't really have just so he can be lazy.  

When he didn't want to go back to the church was one of those times that I listened.  He thought it was unfair she was fired.  At the time we didn't know why.  I do know now and I totally agree with him. It wasn't fair  I explained the repercussions of not going back such as no more church parties, won't see his friends on Sunday etc.  He said he didn't care.  He would see most of his friends at school or at the park and he would make new ones.  He was adamant that if his teacher wasn't coming back - neither was he.

This is where my parenting came under fire.  Some camps said I MUST make him go back,  I am simply teaching him that he will always get his way and that will lead to trouble when he gets older.  Some camps agreed with me not sending him back.  His teacher it was mature that he was following his spiritual radar and I should be proud of his relationship with God.  The non-spiritual agreed that it is important to take his feelings into consideration.

The bottom line is this.  He wasn't going to church for me; I was going for him.  This was a journey he wanted to take.  We weren't members of the church yet and hadn't invested THAT much time.  I think it was pretty mature for an 8 year old to understand he would be giving up a lot of fun to stand up for what he felt was a wrong doing.  As I am learning - not many adults in the church are taking said stand against her dismissal.

Am I going to let him switch churches every quarter?  No, but at the same time;  in this instance - I am not going to force him to go back to this one because he had a very good reason.  If that makes me a bad parent - then I will wear that badge with pride.  Sometimes I think there is a lot to be learned if we actually stopped and listened to our kids.  We raised them to be a lot smarter than we give them credit for!

I'm still here

It feels like forever since I have last written.  I will admit that I did start a second blog to track the spiritual journey I stated on at the beginning of the year, but even that was fallen to the wayside.  I was accepted as a writer for a womans blog, but I don't even have the time for that.  My life has been cray cray and not even in the normal crazy Kathy fashion,

You could say that I have a man in my life - but that is only partially true.  It's more like an almost 8 year old who has taken the time he has gotten back with me and is more than making up for the times before I moved back in with him and his dad. It's killed my pretend dating life.  I haven't had sex since August (no you don't need to remind me just how long that has been).  While there is an agreement in place that his dad and I can freely date. we just can't bring anybody home.  While that sounds good in theory - try telling someone your ex husband is your house-mate.  Funny how the text stop after that revelation.  I have pulled the plug on all the dating sites.  I promise. I  discovered that I didn't need the ego feed anymore from someone I probably wasn't going to meet anyways.

While the blog is suffering - I am not.  I lost two years of tucking my son into bed every night.  Two years of him waking me up with a kiss and telling me it is time to get up.  Two years of snuggles. lullabies (even though those are few and far between) and giggles.  I lost two years of being mom; so I'm ok with making up for lost time.  During the week he has jui jitsu 3 days a week which means under the best circumstances dinner doesn't get started until 6:30 and and it's worst - after 7.  Then there is shower and homework.  Most nights my day doesn't end until almost 9.  Let's be honest-I'm too drained to put any effort into romance.  I can barely put the effort into shaving!

I was in a minor car accident, but severe enough to put me on some really good meds.  While I can probably write some amazing posts on Vicodin - not so much on the Soma. For a good two weeks I could barely remember my name!

The biggest kicker to the lack of writing though is that I changed jobs.  I did most of my blog posts while at work.  What can I say - my muse didn't like the monotony of drop filing paper.  I reconnected with an old boss and he ended up offering me the same kind of position with a title and an increase in pay.  He also handed me over a vomit covered shit storm topped off with dingleberry for a cherry.  I knew I was taking over from a guy who wasn't putting the effort in.  What I didn't know (and apparently nobody else in the firm did either) was that he hadn't done any work in three months.  He had boxes of stashed filing and I get the lovely job of cleaning it up.  I do have temporary help, but I barely have time to go to the bathroom so there is certainly no time to write my blogs there. 

My son and his dad are going away this summer for a month.  So I am going to use that time to reconnect with myself.  Hopefully then I will have something fun to write about.  Until then, I'm still here fighting the good fight!

Today

Today I am weak. Today I am not the fearless leader that will command you to put on your lipstick/gloss, throw on your fab flats or awesome heels and take your hand as we go headlong into the world. Today I do not have my brave face on.  Today I want to be a coward.  Between the 4 prescription bottles in my purse, I could take a nice long nap in my car and be a headline tomorrow. I could and I want to - oh how I want to; but Today I won't.

Today I questioned God.  What have I done to deserve this life of mine?  I am sorry that I wrote "AW Shit Sister Mary Anne" on the bathroom mirror in soap and lied about it in the fourth grade.  I hated being in that catholic school where I never fit in and was made fun of constantly.  Even then I was weak, but my voice was tiny and nobody heard my cries.  It was negative attention, but at least it was attention.  Was that justification enough to punish me for the rest of my life?  I pray every day and thank him for his blessings, my son and only ask for the strength to get me through this journey I just don't understand. Then of course I felt stupid because it isn't as if Alanis Morrisette was going to come down off her handstand and whisper in my ear ala Dogma or the clouds would part and his booming voice would answer me.  I have free will and the choices I make are mine and mine alone.

Today I was again jealous of those who have so much more than me and don't have to lift a finger to achieve their desires.  Those for whom everything ALWAYS seems to fall into place.  Today I wondered why my life is so hard and when exactly the hits will stop coming at me. I struggle day to day to get by paycheck to paycheck. Again, I feel stupid asking these questions.  I am sure the woman who sits at the stoplight entrance of Target with the cardboard sign that states "hungry kids at home and can't find work - please help" curses me when I roll past her in my car.  While I am crying because I can't get my radiator fixed because I can't take the time off to either wait or be two hours late thanks to the bus - at least it's a car.  All I can do is hope that it doesn't blow up before I find that good Samaritan to take me to work after I drop it off.

Today I wondered why can I never just be happy for the sake of happy without having to be on a stupid anti depressant?  Why am I not pretty enough? Why am I not charming?  Why can't I get motivated to change everything that is wrong in my life because I am toxic, yet am expected to be the textbook definition of together?  Again - it falls back to the choices I make and the choices I've made.

And I have made stupid choices.  Whether it was in my teens, my twenties or now - I have to wear them.  I try to learn from them and sometimes I do, but usually I just rinse and repeat.

Today I read this post by Glennon Doyle Melton and it made me cry. Her Momastery blog metaphorically save my life.  I say metaphorically because as much as I hate my life right now and want to die - I'm here for a reason. Otherwise it would have worked one of the three other times I tried to end it.  She reminds me that it is OK to be flawed and I have the gift of word.  I'd like to hope that someone gets something out of my blog and realizes - they too are not alone in their imperfections.

Today I acknowledge my sacred scared. I am imperfect.  I am flawed.  I am abusive.  I have been abused. I comfort myself with food and shame myself for eating.  I have an affection for painkillers and have a doctor who lets me have them.  I can't show up shiny and sparkling and I can't pretend anymore.  Nor should I because I am not being true to myself. 

Today, I will make it through to see tomorrow and hopefully see the light through the clouds.  I just hope those clouds aren't the ones from my engine burning itself up.

Supercalifragilistic FABU Chili Cheese Dip

On February 2nd, we here in the states will celebrate the annual tradition of Superbowl Sunday. Where one eats too much, probably drinks too much, watches a LOT of commercials and oh yeah FOOTBALL!!!  Well worry not - whether you are hosting the party or need to bring a dish - I have the easy to make, no fail solution.  Kathy's Fabu Vegetarian Chili Cheese Dip.  It is SO good that your carnivores won't believe it's a vegetarian dish and your herbivores will love you forever.  I have won the office best dish contest with this and my friend KC will not let me attend any parties she throws UNLESS I bring it.

You will need the following:

2 cans of Hormel Vegetarian Chili with Beans

1 brick of softened cream cheese (light or regular - your choice)

1 jar of Pace Salsa (I prefer the Southwest Chitpole Restaurant Style)

1 bag of Cheddar Jack Cheese (Velveeta works well too, but I prefer real cheese)

A bottle of Hot Sauce (Tapatio is again my preference)

Over a medium flame, combine the 2 cans of chili and the cream cheese into a sauce pan.  Stir until the cream cheese has been completely incorporated and any chunks have been melted down.  Add the jar of salsa and stir that in.  Add the cheese and stir until completely melted.  Lastly add dashes of hot sauce to taste.

Voila - you are done.  

This can also be done in the microwave, but you will want to stop it about every 2-3 minutes to stir.  If you want to make a smaller amount, just half the recipe.  Feel free to make it your own by using whatever kind of cheese you prefer,or any heat of salsa or type for that matter.  After making this for about 2 years and playing around with it - the above recipe is what my friends and co-workers liked the best. 

The best part is what you can do with the left overs.  Breakfast dilemma?  This is A-Mazing over eggs.  Lunch or dinner - try adding it on top of a baked potato.  You simply CANNOT go wrong with this dip!

I would love to get your feedback if you try it!  

Unless You Have a Fireplace in Your Bathroom - I'm OK with Being Me

There is a certain freedom that comes with letting go.  When you have waved your white flag and have just resigned yourself to a certain que sera sera.  When you just breathe a collective sigh and declare WHATEVS. 

No, I am not on a medication upswing.  I should be, but I just can't ever seem to remember to take them.  I would certainly feel more stable since things are currently upside down in my life.  It's just that resigning myself the the idea that this is what my life is until 2015 has been one of the most positive changes I could make for myself.  I've made peace with it.

So here are some things that I have come to terms with in my own way and a change or two I have made.

I've cleaned out some of the negative clutter.  I unfriended the writer crush from last year and my phone address book has only one dumb guy in it.  I should delete him. I have his email address memorized though, so I always know how to get a hold of him.  He is a weakness, but I have no need to use his number.  I have no need to contact him.  I will hear from him in a few months I am sure, but he won't hear from me.  I have officially lost interest in what Bootcamp Guy and Toe Ring Tramp are doing.  That was SO last year. I haven't stalked his Facebook since the last post I wrote.  I don't care anymore. His path is not my path and his path was way too caloric.  No wonder my pants look painted on.

I still have the dating profile.  I keep disabling it, but I always restore it.  It's more for the shallow ego boost more than anything else. (Hello - being a cougar is apparently the in thing right now) I am not sure I will really find what I am looking for there. Not that I am looking for Prince Charming, Phillp, Adam, Eric, Li Shang , John Smith or Naveen.  I'm not even looking for Flynn Ryder. If I really had to go that route - I'd like a Kristoff please - the rugged loner.  I am not a princess though and riding horses scare me.  So would riding a reindeer, but I am getting off topic.  I'm a hard fit, I have a wall, a complicated personal life and I don't want to settle for just anyone because it beats being alone.  I won't pretend that tighty whities don't matter.  THEY DO. I don't believe in Mr. Right.  I don't believe there is someone for everyone.  If "he" happens to appear - thus shall it be.  If he doesn't - I can use the excuse that I am too busy playing cruise director to a seven year old to care.

A few truths.

I am OK with myself.  I have come to terms finally that the reflection in the mirror is accurate. I'm not 23 anymore.  I'm not a size 0 anymore.  I have wrinkles, a muffin top and greying hair.  The bush hasn't been landscaped in months and the legs only slightly more recently.  I have let myself go.  Plain and simple. I love chocolate and my pants are getting too tight again.  I am using my bad foot as an excuse not to start running again.  As hot as the dumb OC guys are, I would rather be dancing with my girlfriends on girls night out.  Sometimes I would really just rather sit and home and watch Crash & Bernstein for the umpteenth time with my son on a Saturday night than go out for yet another coffee interrogation where I have to admit I am so much cooler online. 

I have a pocket preacher.  I call him that in jest because he is my go to guy whenever Gman has questions about God.  He was a couple of years my junior in high school and I had a crush on his brother who was a couple of years ahead of me. Apparently I was flirting with the older brother and batting my eyes at him for donuts so that twenty plus years later - I could come to the pocket preacher for advice and theological debate. It was part of the plan.  He is now a pastor and is so sure that I am receiving "the calling".   I'm not so sure.  Maybe the battery on the spiritual cell phone has died and I can't find the charger.  All I know is that Gman has decided he wants to learn about God and we now have a standing date with the church around the corner so he can attend Sunday school.  Don't get me wrong.  I wish I had faith.  I long for faith.  I would give ANYTHING to believe in something so strongly just "because".  I can't though,  I question everything.  I argue everything.  I am a control freak who can't let go.  How am I supposed to believe that all I have to do is ask and I shall receive?  I tried that.  I still ended up sleeping on a slide, in the van and eventually in a homeless shelter.  Faith is not something I have, but I am not above a little salvation.  We'll see how this endeavor goes.

Here is my last Disney reference. "keep those camera's flashin', to try to catch this action.  I'm just being me - watch me do me".  I am so OK with who I am.  I'm OK with the flaws and the areas that need improvement.  With this attitude - I could take over the world.  I won't - I have no staying power, but I COULD.  For now, I will just settle for a hot shower, a fluffy towel and fuzzy pajamas. That I can attain tonight  Living in the here and now - what more could I ask for (besides another bar of Godiva Dark Chocolate with Sea Salt)!  

The Stories of Single

The whole reason I started this blog is because of good friend of mine told me to.  She said these things only happen to you, yet it's something so many people can relate to.  Because of that encouragement; I wanted to encourage others to write.  So on Being Single is the New Black's Facebook page I told my readers that I was looking for guest writers to share their stories with me and  I have had a few responses.  Some are writers and some are just people with a story to tell...like Roxy.  Of course her name has been changed, but she is a gal after my own heart.  Show her some love in the comments!

If you have a story to tell - feel free to email me at sooosingle41@gmail.con.  I would love to share your story too.

So I present my first story in a hopefully ongoing bit I'm going to call The Stories of Single.  Take it away Roxy!

Downward Spiral…A Cautionary Tale of Dating in Your 40’s

So here I am alone. Not to say I don’t have a lot going on, but even with all of the excitement each day or moment will bring; at the end of the day, there is just me. I’m not one that would do the sort of things that I have done in the last couple of years. I have always been “the good one”, the one who was very “vanilla”. Lately, however, there have been things that I have done that I instantly regret. I am not super pretty. I would probably give myself a strong 6.75. Not skinny but not fat…kind of in the middle. I think I have a pretty decent personality if you can handle my down days. Pretty much a typical 42 year old with baggage. I came from a super bad marriage that left me scarred for life and a now have a new found sense of freedom that comes with leaving a man who you thought you might grow old with. 

For a while I did the poor pitiful me thing and stayed home in my depressed state. I was barely able to get out of sweat pants, or put on a bra each day. Then someone told me to try one of those free internet dating sites. I did. I put my best face forward, took a couple selfies on my computer camera and let it all out. Getting flirted with is wonderful when you are feeling down and eventually I took someone up on their offer to meet in person. I got my best “I need to get laid” outfit on and trekked over to the outdoor mall to meet so that I was close to home if I needed to get out of any bad situations. I was told that I was very pretty and most people don’t look like they do on their profiles. Yay me! That was short lived after a skinny little thing came in and started making eyes at my date. He then told me that they used to date her and he couldn’t be seen with a fat chick in public. I lowered my head and walked home feeling more useless than before. Free internet dating site…closed down. 

Flash forward to crazy “rocky road” “I’ll try anything once” days. Went to a swingers club with a friend and quickly realized that I was not a display it all for the world to see kind of gal. I’m more of a one on one person but after a few adult beverages was talked into being a one on two kind of person. Come on…who hasn't wanted to do something so not “you” just to see what happens? I regretted it the experience but at least I learned that is not the road for me…I am sure about that! 

After a couple of months I was still fuming about my online experience, but decided to try again. This time I wasn't going to waste time getting to know people only to be let down. So I went right for the “I need to get laid now” site and set up a blind date that was sure to end in some sweaty satisfaction. I went out for a drink and instantly he started kissing and groping me. The fact that he was pretty good looking didn't hurt so we went ahead with the discussion of where to go. We went to his house and both got what we wanted. It was quick, pretty uneventful and unsatisfying. Sex is sex right? It doesn't always have to be great, but that itch was taken care of and I got what I needed. He continued to call and I continued to meet him for 2 months. Each time I wondered "what the hell I am doing?” He still texts me to see if I will meet him. After 2 years you would think he would give up.

An old boyfriend (this is my weak point) started calling. Things were always a what if with us and after 10 years I was going to see if this would lead to anything. Why not? I invited him over for a few beers to see if there was anything beyond the sex that was the basis of the relationship 10 years ago. He was still immature, still dirt poor and a moocher, still kind of icky with some of the habits he had. Lo and behold, he was mine and he did whatever I wanted him to do. He was a doormat but would never move me forward. I promised myself that I would just keep it casual but he was moving it forward way fast with family obligations and spending a lot of time together. If you are desperate enough, you will put up with almost anything for a while. Eventually I moved him in. It was good at first but maybe I have been alone too long. Things like using napkins when you can use a towel to clean something up would make me rage with anger because he wasn’t the one who would have to buy more napkins when they were all used up! Stupid petty things were making me regret letting someone into my life. I knew deep down inside that those weren’t the issues. I didn’t love him. Not even sure I really even liked him at that point. So I asked him to leave. But, when he calls from time to time I can’t say I turn him down. 

Not even a few weeks later a mouth watering new client walked into my office. After we talked business for a while he asked if he could shut my door. I was confused because things like this don’t happen to fat chicks like me. He proceeded to ask me on a date. A proper date??? Ok, sounds great! He was way out of my league, at least a 9, and I wondered what does he want with me? We had so much in common and we sat and talked for hours. I still don’t know what exactly he saw in me, maybe it the huge boobs. I think though after a year of seeing him off and on I am at a place with him that either needs to go somewhere or end. 

You see, he has lots of baggage. He has an ex wife (not legally yet)with cancer who he left two years ago, and a “roommate” that wants to share more than the bills. So I get the leftovers. For a while the leftovers were ok but we have started to fall for each other. Neither one of us is in a position to just pick up and have a real relationship though. After all, I am a bitch no one can live with and he has too many obligations and not much left to give me. I think that the time has come to end it even though I really, really like him and could actually see us being together for a long time. 

So why am I writing this. What am I going to do if I am still seeing both of these guys when something that is really good comes along? The good guy, the guy that everyone else always saw as a friend (even me) has an interest in me and we have gone on a few dates and even done things that I would have never thought we would be doing together. He is nice. He loves me and has for a long, long time. Why do I feel the need to run away? I told him when we first started dating that I have plans to move out of the state in the fall. He cannot fall for me. I will break his heart and use him like a doormat. I have tried to tell him and warn him that I am bad news. He doesn't care. 

So here is my dilemma…

I have kicked out boyfriend who I can be myself around, say anything to, use and abuse, and sometimes I let him use and abuse me. I have client boyfriend who I still get butterflies in my stomach when he comes to see me and wish he would never leave when I have him near. And new sweet guy who would love me forever and ever and I could see a future with. My solution…keep to my move out of state plan in the fall and try to figure out who I really am. If at some point I move back maybe there would be an answer waiting if I don’t create the same drama for myself in a different location. 

Why have I chosen a life so difficult and messy? Am I torturing myself or giving myself what I think I deserve? I am not happy….don’t know what would make me happy. I have good moments and think, “this is what I want” and then the next moment it is gone. After 20 years of doing everything for everyone else I have no idea what I want for me. I thought being free would be fun and I could be selfish without regrets and maybe be able to figure it out. It has been three long years and right now I feel worse than that day I left. Still no better off, still not knowing what is out there for me.

Right now I have three amazing people who I push and push away and they keep coming back. I don’t communicate with them first. I am not needy and do not answer their texts or calls right away. They all know that we are not exclusive. But who here is really being used? I could be happy with any of them. They all have about the same chance with me, they all have the same amount of baggage. Would any of them go “all in” with me or is this all just a game they are playing? Time to make big changes and figure all of 

this out.

A Bitter Pill to Swallow

I was going to write my resolution post.  In fact it was half written before I had to stop.  I was going to finish and post it today, but then I read a Facebook post from a a friend of mine, well sort of friend.  He's more like a social media friend who I should know.  He lives probably 15 minutes from me, he was a bouncer at the club I hung out at in my twenties, but neither of us can recall each other.  The only interaction I ever can even recall with him was when he broke up the only bar fight I have ever been in that occurred in the ladies restroom.  My underage friend who I was buying drinks for started it and we probably should have been thrown out for it, but membership has it's privileges and the preppy girls who were the catalyst got the boot - but I'm off topic now.

I am paraphrasing, but he said why make resolutions at the first of the year when changes can be made at anytime.   "It is your life and no calender should dictate when you make changes to better yourself." He can be very wise and I hope to have him write a post soon.

I have been very bitter these past few weeks,  Very bitter indeed.  It seems to be infecting my soul. I have had two issues really.  1) I want to finally grow up or maybe it's to become an adult.  I'm not sure.  I'm one, but not the other and I don't know which.  2) I am just plain unhappy and jealous of other people's happiness.  The two kind of tie into each other.  It started it with Bootcamp Guy around Thanksgiving.  He had pictures posted of his dinner with his mom and I noticed that Toe Ring Tramp was the one who posted them.  It was then when I realized he and I could have never worked because I would have had to choose dinner with him or dinner with Gman. It was then I realized - I am not ready for that kind of relationship.  That was kind of when the adult/grown up thing started to seep in.

I mean I am over 18.  I am old enough to vote and old enough to drink. I hold a full time job.  I have a car and insurance payment, but that is where it ends.  I don't see many women my age who play video games and like anime.  I am always the odd one out wherever I work because I am just not like everyone else.  I am coming to a point where I want to be though.  I go to the park or Gman's school functions and I don't fit in with the other mom's. This sucks, because my son is very social and gets invited to a lot of parties.  I just end up sitting in the corner because the other moms are huddled in their mom cliques and I'm not a part of it.  It's kind of like high school all over again.

Then we go back to bitter.  Again sort of fueled by Bootcamp Guy who is currently whisking Toe Ring Tramp all over England.  While I am not making resolutions, I am officially done stalking his FB profile to torture myself.  Why am I bitter?  Because I never seem to the "one" for anyone.  When we were ending, he had the audacity to tell me "well you were once when you got married."  Yeah, well so were you Mr. Going on Divorce Number 2.  I look at my ex on Facebook and see he is happily married to the gal he dated after me.  After 4 kids and 12 years of marriage and they are still going strong,  What did she have that I didn't - besides being the sister of his ex roommates wife.  A dear friend of mine met a lovely lady on a successful dating site last year and married her before the end of the year. Hello,  I am the queen of online dating and have been entirely unsuccessful.  I find myself seething in envy.

Why am I writing this?  Is this one of my famous pity parties table for one?  No, No it isn't.  This is my proverbial letter you write then throw so that you rid it from your life. I can't actually do that though because I am not allowed near the fire place for fear I will burn the place down. (geez- you set one lousy cutting board on fire on the stove and you NEVER live it down.)

What all this bitterness has taught me is that you can't complain about the hand you are dealt when you keep playing with the same poisoned deck of cards.  You can't complain that nobody likes you when you don't present something worth liking.  You can't cry about about what you aren't when you aren't trying to make yourself what you think you should be or better yet - could be.

So I light my bonfire and let the flames reach towards the sky.  I cast bitterness into the fire along with jealously, fears and rage.  I will still be the same me who will make the same mistakes, but I will have let go of the demons holding me down and holding me back.  Maybe though, just maybe though - I may learn from a mistake or two.

Hey I hear you laughing over there....you could at least try to stifle your giggles! :)