Two Years

In some ways my life is so completely different than it was two years ago: job, mindset, perspective. I'm happier and more settled than I have been in a long time... which is weird for me... but in other ways I am just treading water.

There is no mystery or coincidence to the fact that the relationships I have had in the last two years have been with people who are completely unavailable. I am absolutely terrified of anything that might have a future, completely unwilling to risk that kind of dependence. I completely underestimated the emotional damage that my marriage caused.

I have forgiven him (for the most part) and I am working on forgiving myself... I am not angry with him anymore for not fighting harder, but I am still mourning the loss of that potential. We were supposed to have a life together and he was supposed to be the other half of me. I still don't feel whole without him.

But it's getting better.

I am healing and trying to grow... and some of the walls I built need to come down and that is scary.

Maybe in two more years I'll be ready to trust myself with a real relationship.

Or not.

Bad Timing, Buddy

Updates first...
First - Work last week was CRAZY. And not good crazy. Peyton Place, Drama Llama, people crying and jobs were on the line crazy. I was just an observer, but people I care about were in the middle of some serious shit. It was a tense and stifled place to be and I hopehopehope we can all take a breath and have a more normal week next week.

Second - I still have hair. I should have done it right away, before I had a chance to think about it and consider my job. I should have done it before I applied for a part-time weekend job with the county. I should have done it before I chickened out.
I suck. Though I may end up with a compromise and shave the "under layers" of my hair. Lord knows I have enough of it that losing a few layers wouldn't upset too many corporate killjoys...

Third - Yes, you read that right, I applied for a part time job at The Evil Empire once again. I'm hoping it won't suck out ALL of my soul and will make it possible to buy a better car.

Finally - It's the end of March and I am OK. I am. I have been more emotional and more likely to hide out, but all things considered I'm fine. Mostly. I'm not making any promises for Tuesday, but right this second things are smooth.

In other news, for reasons too stupid to mention my ex-boyfriend was (briefly) in my house on Friday with Bean when I wasn't home. (There is a reason he was there, he did have permission from another adult - just not exactly from me). Then he texted me from the house pretending that he was Bean using his phone - but I know her texts and it wasn't her. Then he sent me an email. And then when I logged on to a social website I found a message from him there.

Bad timing, dude.

And it's not like he's not aware that the end of March is a difficult time (read: emotional cluster fuck) for me. He was, you know, present for all of that. So he's either stupid, cruel or totally insensitive. ("D, All of the Above" anyone?)

I could ignore the intrusion into my house, and I could ignore the texts and I could ignore the email... but all of that with the message thrown in was just a little too much. I send a brief but pointed message back.

So he responds back with this "Woe is me" bullshit about how loving me scares him. Um. Yeah, if that's what you think love looks like I totally understand. The way you "loved" me is scary as hell. Gives me the shivers just thinking about feeling like that again!
Then he did the typical, "I'm a bad person and just can't express what I feel so hate me if you must."
Really? Really?!?
Oh, Sweetie, I've got nothing left in me for you and it takes actually being able to feel something to hate someone.
He also tried to turn it back on me... like I had demanded more of a relationship than he was willing to give. Well... now that I think about it, I did demand that he not fuck anyone else while we were together and that was more than he was willing to give.
Mea fucking culpa.
I did respond to his whining... he may have noticed that I am no longer pulling my punches with him. Someone ought to warn him that the next step in the progression is to aim lower.

Once bitten, twice shy, third time carry a weapon.

Is it May yet?? I need to get the fuck out of town and I need my Gene fix. I may have to figure out a way to get up there before my work trip.

Sacrifice and Grace

I have a love-love relationship with my hair. It is thick and soft and shiny.
I like to hide behind it and run my fingers through it and I almost never put any kind of product in it because I love the way it moves on its own.

My hair has been long enough to sit on and as short as a boy's and every length in between. I've had bangs and no bangs. It's been all one length and layered almost mercilessly. I have had a perm or two - but not for almost 20 years. It has been every shade of red: an almost black-purple, fiery orange, dark magenta, auburn. It has been highlighted and low-lighted and been the test-dummy for countless color technique classes.

When I got married the first time and we had less than no money I actually cried the first time I had to buy shampoo at the grocery store. I felt guilty for treating it so badly.

The main drawbacks of my hair are that it refuses to hold a curl and if I don't wash it every day it is greasy and horrible. Really? All things considered? Those are not things that are difficult to manage. I love the smell of shampoo and the soft weight of hair on my face when I sleep.

It is the one thing about myself that I have never been unhappy with.

Every boy I've ever loved has loved my hair... one boy loved it so much that when he left me I cut it all off. When he saw me next he got this look of grief on his face and unconsciously reached out a hand toward the ends of what was left before I took a step backwards and he remembered he wasn't supposed to touch me. It felt good that something I did affected him because for most of our relationship nothing seemed to. It made me wish I'd shaved it off just to intensify that.

But that would have been crazy. It would have been crazy to shave my head for any boy...
But...
Someone I love is sick.
Someone I love more than the comfort of the glossy swing of my hair.
Someone I love has had tests and surgeries and more tests and waiting.
Someone I love will be fine, but the road to fine is long and bumpy and scary.

I would take on all of it for her if I could. I would fix it. Fix. It.
But I can't. I can't make it better or change it. But I can sacrifice the one thing about myself I love the most so that someone I love doesn't have to be bald by herself.
She is so brave and amazing and I am so scared and small.

It is not about me. It is not even about the hair really. I know that this sacrifice is infinitesimally small compared to her experience of her illness and recovery.
This is merely a gesture, dramatic as it may be.
My hair will grow back - and in my experience it will grow back quickly. This time next year will probably look very much as it does right this second. And while she will absolutely recover, emotionally this will take more time for her. And I don't even know how to help her with that. I don't remember how the healing of my own emotional trauma began two years ago, but I do know that I am still not healed. Better. But not healed.

I practiced today with scarves. I've looked online for instructions about tying them.

I hope when the time comes to make this sacrifice I will handle it as gracefully and beautifully as she has handled the last few months. I hope this gesture - dramatic but small - will offer some kind of comfort to her.

What's New??

Um.... nothing.

My life continues in its little figure eight.
Nothing really to report these days... work and home and home and work...
Home could be cleaner, work could be less hectic, but all in all things are just stable.
Weird.

I am almost finished with the Destroyed Cowl, though I'm in that black hole of knitting where I knit and knit and knit and it doesn't seem to get much bigger. That's frustrating because I really want to get to the dropping stitches part. That's my favorite bit of the Clapotis, so I imagine I'll like it as much with this one.

Bean and I are doing well at home... she spent Valentine's day in Oklahoma with her dad. She usually has a good time with them, but it's so nice for both of us when she comes home. She is so independent, it's nice to know that she wants to hang out with me even when she doesn't have to!

I've been reading a little bit... The Children's Book was the last Literary Feast book and I liked it a lot. I'm also reading Committed. It's weird for me after ten years in radio to have a job where I can't read or knit regularly. I do get a lot of audio book listening done... but there is relatively no literary value to the book I'm listening to right now.

AND work is good... we continue to have completely inappropriate conversations at work. Tuesday, for example, we discussed phone sex, Ben Wa balls and "who would you do for ten million dollars?" (My answer was, "All y'all, just show me the money and line the fuck up." Because I'm classy like that). And I am not the most inappropriate person in the group. Seriously.

So I'm off to take a bath and read a little.

Valentine's Day

I am alone this year... and you'd think that would be a bad thing. Depressing and lonely...
Last year I thought I had someone who loved me, and that someone bought me roses and a big stuffed gorilla... and then couldn't take me out ON Valentine's day because he was taking his actual girlfriend (who he claimed was just a friend) to see a comedian. Oh, and he needed Bean to babysit.
Oh yes. My child babysat. While he took his real girlfriend out. On Valentine's day.
That was the beginning of the end of that relationship.
I know.
That should have been the end of the end. But I think I just needed to see how far he would let it go. The answer to that was pretty fucking far, but that is a whole nother story and mostly I'm trying to just letitgo. Something along the lines of "once bitten, twice shy, third time use a taser."

So you'll maybe understand why this year has been so much better.

Friday night I had what turned out to be the best date I've been on in YEARS. He was attentive and funny and engaging and we talked and laughed until 2am... at which point he went home to his husband and I went home to the cats. Bean has been trying to tell me that we needed a gay boyfriend to complete our lives. And I do live this guy. He was one of my favorite teachers when I was getting my Master's and now he's becoming a good friend. Love that.

Saturday I went to Twist, and bought the yummiest yarn to start my Destroyed Cowl. Its Mochi Plus - worsted version of the oh so lovely Mini Mochi.

Of course I also had to buy the matching Mini Mochi to make socks to match... I'm thinking it might be possible to make a "destroyed sock," but I'm still in the planning stages of that one. I'll let you know.
I had heard from others who made this cowl that it becomes tedious - as 45 inched of stockinette can. I'm almost half way through it and so far I'm still having a great time. Maybe it's the color changes, or maybe it's because I am just feeling peaceful, but I'm still loving this and I can't wait for the magic of the organized destruction at the end.

Then I had dinner with Deb and Katie - and we laughed and talked and ate the BEST chocolate cake I've had in a long time... It was so big and so good that I had to take the rest home. I also bought myself a lovely little Valentine's present. No flowers or boxes of chocolates - those will be half price tomorrow anyway. I bought the little mini laptop that I have been wanting, and I love it as much as I thought I would. It's perfect and light and has a little Bluetooth USB thingy that allows it to connect to the internets through my Blackberry.
LoveLoveLove.

Today I went to the used book store, grocery shopping, cleaned and watched In Bruges, Sin Nombre and Live Free or Die Hard...
And worked on my cowl.
And ate my leftover cake.
For lunch I had crusty bread with butter and honey and apples and Havarti.

In a little while I'm going to take a long, hot bath and read a book.
It really is all about the love.

In the Dark and Snow

I don't think it's over-dramatizing things to sat that my drive to work this monrning was terrifying. That's looking back now, after 5 hours have passed and there is light outside.

I needed to be in my office by 7:00, so I woke up at 5:30. You know me, unless I'm still up at 5:30 I don't want to be anywhere near awake at 5:30.

It was snowing and dark and the roads were covered with snow. There wasn't solid ice, but the slushiness of the asphalt made it slick, and I had a big green sled when I was a child that had better traction than my big green truck. The biggest issue was the falling snow. It wasn't heavy, really, but in the dark snow is a whole other beast. The way it was blowing - slanting to the right without any light but my headlights made me feel dizzy and a little disoriented at times, and for most of the drive the center lines were covered so I couln't even find my bearings at times. I was really afraid I was going to just drive right off the road into a field.

I slowed down and turned my radio off and kept breathing.

I was afraid to pull over - what if someone slid and hit me? I was afraid to pull off the highway - what if fear and panic wouldn't let me get back on?

I kept thinking, "I don't know how much longer I can do this." And I meant I didn't know how much longer this morning I could continue to force myself to keep driving. And I meant I don't know how much longer I can continue to make this drive... I know that I either need to move closer to work or work closer to home.

And I think I also meant that I am tired and the sadness that had lifted in early fall is starting to close in again and it makes me so physically tired. This morning in my car in the dark and the snow I wanted more than anything to go back to those dark days of last summer when I couldn't get out of bed. And feeling nostalgic about that was scarier than the weather.

I guess I just take it slow and careful like I did this morning. Keep breathing and stay between the lines as much as possible. Find the quiet and the calm... and avoid the trucks that thunder past, spraying me with mud and ice.

Except That I'm Too Tired to Breathe

So the good news is that I didn't have to use any of my precious few "PTO" hours for my sick day last week.
The bad news is that I have been working marathon hours. And not entirely on purpose. I even dream about clients. Seriously. All night. You'd think I could get some time off while I'm in my jammies at least!!

I don't even have a coherent narrative of what I did today... I know my day started with hastily gulped coffee for strength on my way to an appointment with one client and ended with an lesson to another client on how to use Amazon.com to buy used Sweet Valley High books (a lesson which I am uniquely qualified to teach). Somewhere in the middle I had to coax another client onto the bus by pretending to play "Red Rover" with him. And there was Valentine Bingo and dodge ball (heh heh, oh yeah). And there were several hours of paperwork and phone calls.

Tomorrow morning I have to get up and do it all over again.

And I'm too tired to breathe.

I'm not complaining, really. Four jobless months let me know that I am lucky to have this job. And I love it... but I do need to get a handle on my schedule. Even if I hadn't needed to make up 8 hours I would have been working these hours just because of how appointments were scheduled. I don't want to burn out. And I need to be home in the evenings before 8.

I also need to organize my kitchen and shopping list so that I can embrace all things Crock-pot.

Bean has been a real trooper. Last night I was back in time for her concert, so I haven't ENTIRELY abandoned her to the wolves. (Or, you know, cats).

I need a snack and I need a pillow.