It's time for moving on, my kittens.

I have started a new blog as a symbol of sorts that I've finally started moving on with my life. There are so many things I've gone through in my life in the duration of this blog's lifespan, and a lot of them I'd prefer to not have to think about as much as others... Mainly my relationship with my biological mother, her sister, and everything in my life that has anything to do with either one of them.



And so, if there are any of you left out there, I've created a new blog. A phoenix from the ashes, so to speak. You can find me here now. To those of you who still check in to see if I'm writing, and any of you who have read my blog in the past, thank you.



Thank you for being there with your supportive comments, for letting me entertain you occasionally, and for your readership. I have truly appreciated it.

Whew, one big holiday down, one to go!

And thanksgiving this year began much like thanksgiving last year did. With me dropping something.

Thank god it wasn't the apple pie, like it was last year! No, this year, it was a heavy glass candle holder. And I broke the fall with my foot. Sweet Baby Jesus, did that hurt! I still have a curve-shaped bruise from that sucker.

So I suppose I should actually update on what's going on in life lately, as it's pretty much been, date-date-date-food porn lately...

On the dating front: Jason is now in a relationship with another girl. But it's good, they're good for one another. We are still friends, and this is what's important. Travis and I stopped talking, I'm not heartbroken by this. Still haven't heard from the hot waiter. I've got a few guys I've been chatting with that want to take me on dates. So in other words, all is busy and well. :)

On the work front: Things have been going pretty well. Been getting lots of training in other areas of the store. And except for stupid dramz, which we all know I fucking HATE WITH THE FURY OF A THOUSAND BURNING URETHRA, it's good.

On the family front: My family is excellent as always. A few hits on the head with the crazy stick here and there, but otherwise good. :)

On the me front: Bought myself some Beavis and Butthead pajamas. I am more than pleased with this. It's probably one of the most epic purchases I've made since my pink glitter stilettos. I'm also going to a Christmas-themed drag show this Saturday and debating wearing them to the show. Because really, if glitter-coated pumps aren't appropriate at a drag show, then where, I ask you?

On the Erf front: Proudly, we haven't fought in a few months. We are getting along really well, and I think we really are becoming friends again. It feels good, I hated having to guard everything I said. And this can't be anything but good for Erflet.

On the Erflet front: He's lost his first tooth! He's getting so big, and I'm in total disbelief that he's almost six. Fuck, where does the time go? He's doing great in school, and reveals more and more tendency towards my personality every day. This is both awesome and horrible, as I'm a huge smartass. It's gonna suck until he learns how to control this magical power he has inherited.

So all in all, things are going great. Little bumps and hiccups in the road, but nothing serious. :) I'm so glad, it's such a 180 from what my life was like a year ago. Further proof supporting that sometimes what's bad in the short term can be good in the long term.

I'm creating a new tag...

Dating is decidedly becoming less and less of the bullshit variety with every date I've gone on lately.

I went on a second date with Travis, and I have to rant and rave about his mad skills... In the kitchen.

Seriously, trying to figure out something to do in this godforsaken town on a Sunday night besides the tired old 'dinner and a movie' schtick is damn difficult. So he invited me over to his place for dinner and said he would cook for me.

I will never say no to food, kittens. Then, he one-upped himself. He told me what he was planning on making.

Bacon (!!!) and goat cheese stuffed chicken with homemade mushroom risotto. Bacon, cheese and risotto? Dear sweet baby Jesus, I was drooling like mad. It was on like Donkey Kong, bitches. So we made plans for Sunday evening. I told him I would make him dessert, and finally decided on Oreo Butterscotch cheesecake.

This is already shaping up to be an amazing evening, no? Then I offered to bring the movie I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell as Travis hadn't yet seen it... With vernacular gems such as, "If you ever speak ill of the pancakewich again, I will force feed you one while I fuck you in the ass using the wrapper as a condom, and then donkey punch you when the infused syrup nugget explodes!" and "I'd rather fellate a hot curling iron than drive 250 miles because Tucker breast-fed until he was nine." What's not to love?!

I show up at 6 with cheesecake in tow. He wrapped his arm around me, put his hand on the small of my back (which is seriously a huge thing for me, I love it) and kissed me hello. Boy, it was warm in his house...

Then I got to watch him cook. He's pretty damn adept in the kitchen. Everything smelled absolutely amazing, and most everything was done or well on it's way to done by the time I arrived. I offered to help, was there anything he needed me to do? Oh, grill the asparagus?

I meant is there anything I KNOW how to do? No? Alright then. I'll stand here and watch. :)

Dinner consisted of bacon and goat cheese stuffed chicken, mushroom risotto and fresh grilled asparagus with lemon butter sauce. It. Was. Fucking. Amazing. He is such an excellent cook. We brought our plates into the living room and ate dinner. After we finished eating, we cuddled on the couch and just relaxed. (Yeah, yeah, get the, 'awwww' out of your system)

After Tucker Max was done, I sliced and diced the cheesecake, drizzled the slices liberally with butterscotch, and Travis made fun of my springform pan. It was fancy, or so he said. He seemed to be thoroughly impressed with my baking skills. He accused me of buying the cheesecake and trying to pass it off as my own. Um, no... Totally all me. I rock in the pastry department.

Then we watched Talladega Nights and cuddled some more. All in all, a very fabulous, relaxing evening.

My son is also apparently well on his way to becoming a nudist. Seriously, we're in the door less than ten minutes and his monkey ass is stripped down to his underwear. What is it with children parading around nearly nude?

Breathe... Just breathe.

Breathe really is a funny looking word, isn't it? It seems like there shouldn't be an 'e' on the end of it.

I really have the urge to write something. I'm not sure exactly what that is yet, but keep hanging with me and I'm sure I'll spark something witty and hilarious. And if not, you're welcome. This will be a few minutes of your life you'll never get back.

Yesterday was an interesting day... Hung out with Erf and Erflet, had our family time. As we were walking around Target, I got some texts from Jason. The long and short of the story is that I ended up urging him to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. Yeah, that stung a little. Mostly the lost potential. But I am trying to keep reminding myself that things work out the way they're supposed to, and if Jason and I are meant to have a relationship things will work their way toward that eventually. And if he's meant to be with his ex, then I did the right thing.

Still hurts. Oh well. Feelings are bullshit anyways. As long as he's happy, and we can still be friends. Because really, he's far too awesome to let go of as a friend. I need someone to finish watching Firefly with. :) I've already made good progression toward talking my girl brain down from her crazyness. I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be back to normal for the most part. And of course I'll behave myself, because I don't pee in another girl's litterbox.

Both literally and figuratively.

Today is Halloween and I'm pretty damn pleased to say that I am crafting a pretty fun costume this year. I found a homemade blue dress at Savers for $7, made iridescent sequined shoes, and I'm going as an Ice Queen. I'm pretty excited, because ice means covering myself in sparkly stuff. And I love me some sparkly stuff! :)

It's all about the Yamslam.

I'm sitting here with a huge grin on my face.

OkCupid, you have redeemed yourself. Seriously. I'm happy to know that not all the guys on there are creepers. Matter of fact, I met one who has thus far been pretty damn awesome. (Referencing a previous post, he's the one who is slightly older, witty and smart)

Messaging was slow at first, but excellent conversation nonetheless. Then we began exchanging texts, and the conversations got exponentially more fantastic. It takes a lot to stimulate me on both an intellectual and humorous level, and this guy hits both of those in just the right way. We start talking on the phone. Like teenagers. It has been refreshing, fun and exciting. Topics range all over the map, and he gets serious bonus points for being a Nathan Fillion fan.

The best part of all of this? It hasn't felt awkward at all. The only phrase I can come up with to encompass the way it's felt is that everything has just flowed naturally. When you can talk to a stranger for 2 1/2 hours four nights in a row, you click.

The conversation of course progressed to the discussion of meeting in person. He stalked me and found my blog (Hi, Jason!), and was even sweet enough to give me his personal info so I could quell any worries by Googling him. He was worried that I would censor myself when writing about our date... Oh kittens, you know me well enough to know that isn't the case.

Fortunately the thought of censoring myself never needed to flit it's squicky fingers against my mind, because there is absolutely nothing I would not be willing to say to him about our date. We ended up sort of combining both of my other first dates into our date today, and blew them both right the fuck out of the water with our combined awesomeness. We met for coffee and breakfast, and that was relaxed and fun. Lots of silences staring into each other's eyes and smiling. Yeah, go get your barf buckets kittens; I'm waxing poetic and feeling the uterus taking firm control. Shut UP.

I'll rein the bitch in, but for tonight I'm enjoying it. Just go with it.

We walked around Canal Park and browsed the local shops, particularly the antique shops (which, hi? Sparkly old fashioned jewelry?)... Jason found the gasps of happiness I frequently made when seeing sparkly things very entertaining. I'm a girl, it's sparkly. And sparkly is one of my favorite colors. We did see the bottom half of a mannequin hanging from the ceiling by chains in one shop at the Dewitt-Seitz Marketplace (sort of a mini mall with local businesses), and he took a photo of it. Awesome.

We held hands. We browsed art galleries. We were followed everywhere by photos and paintings of scary and homicidal-looking clowns. Like Pennywise, eat-your-motherfucking-brain-scary clowns. It was damn funny. Lots of paused glances where we would look into each other's eyes and both totally chicken out about kissing each other.

We went to lunch and had some of the most delicious pizza I've ever had... Margherita base pizza with mozzarella, goat cheese, prosciutto and arugula. See also, eating arugula without pizza is not the best idea I've ever had. That shit burns. I felt like I had the vagina of a woman of ill repute replacing my mouth. The restaurant plays some of my favorite music, and pretty much every song that came on was a song I love. Baby It's Cold Outside, La Vie En Rose, Sway... I so wanted to get up and dance. La Vie En Rose makes you want to have someone's arms wrapped around you, moving to the rhythm of the music...

Luckily neither one of us minded the garlic breath from the pizza. :)

Yes, to answer your question, we are going to get together again. Yes, my insides feel like I have the thoughts of a giggly little 15 year old girl replacing my own. Yes, I'm squealing internally at the thought of spending more time with him. Yes, I'm aware that I am a huge pink beaver. No, I'm not ashamed of it.

This date? It was decidedly NOT bullshit.

Dating and other random bullshit.

So remember how I said my parents would never set me up on Match.com?

Well, now I'm not so sure. Probably not on match.com, because they apparently don't want me to find someone to love... I was having my weekly Castle date with them on Monday, and we were talking about my blog and the entry where Amy threatened to set me up a profile. We began discussing my re-entry into the dating world -

Or, let's face it, it should be entry into the dating world. Erf and I met and began dating when I was 16, I've never really 'dated' anyone before.

- and I told my parents that I don't plan on getting married again anytime soon, and therefore I am not looking for someone to be in a real relationship with. I want, like any other sane (or insane) woman who finds herself single after being with one person for so long, to date. I want to be asked out on dates, I want someone who will buy me dinner, I want the confidence boost of knowing that I'm wanted by someone. If I ever do settle down again, I don't want the nagging fear and doubt following me wherever I go...

Am I with this person because I don't think anyone else could possibly want me? Is there anyone else who finds me attractive?

Not that I particularly find either of those statements to be in the resounding negative, but I've always wondered.

(Here comes the self-centered retrospective where I sound pathetic... FYI.)

Back in high school (which, in the words of a friend, high school fucking sucked anyway), I was hardly ever hit on. I had two serious boyfriends and one not very serious boyfriend. Maybe I radiated that oh-so-sexy, 'serial-monogamist' vibe. I have no idea. But whether the guy-like glitch in my brain just didn't pick up on it or it just wasn't there, I never saw longing glances. Never saw myself get checked out. Never noticed flirtation. There was a guy I was and still am good friends with that indicated interest, but he was pretty obvious about it. I couldn't have missed it if I tried.

So all of this planted that seed of doubt. Why didn't guys seem to check me out? Why have I never once been asked out since Erf? Not that I would have said yes while we were together, of course, but the sentiment would have counted. I would have been flattered. My head would have tilted from the inflation. Alas, nada.

Perhaps that guy-like glitch causes me to miss anything less subtle than a sledgehammer to the cerebral cortex. Or maybe I'm just over paranoid. I think I'm pretty, (and I'm not looking for reassurance here) and I see no reason why I shouldn't have been at least asked out once. I know I can be quite intimidating, but I've got a great rack and nice eyes. What the hell, guys?

So anywho, I want to know I'm wanted. That a guy found me and my charisma attractive enough to ask out. That my brash exuberance isn't a deterrent. Jesus, I sound like a fucking nutjob. I want to slap my own face and tell myself , 'Stop being such a fucking douche canoe!'

So my parents tell me that I should get married again... But this time, I should marry for money. Because dammit, someone needs to take care of them in their old age.

I responded that they should be nice to me, since I'll be the one picking their nursing home. And if they're nice, I'll put them in one with nice big rats they can chase down to eat.

Also, I'd like to give my awesome, fabulous parents a shout out. They gave me the coolest birthday gifts I never would have thought to ask for...

A bottle of Silver Patron and Jagermeister, and a coupon for $100 toward a new mattress that I've been needing since I moved in.

As they eloquently phrased it, 'Something to make you pass out, and something to pass out on.'

I love my parents. They are wicked awesome.

Erflet and I went hiking on a local trail, and my back and leg muscles are still a little stiff. I haven't done any real hiking since the fall, and I missed it so much. There were a few gorgeous scenic overlooks that we stopped at, all of them overlooking the bay and harbor of Lake Superior, the Aerial Lift Bridge and Ely's Peak. I can't wait to take him hiking again, I'm hoping that this Sunday it's gorgeous out. Or maybe next Wednesday, if I my new tech is comfortable enough to close alone.

I'm thinking of starting the Superior Hiking Trail at a different trail head, or perhaps wandering around Gooseberry Park up near Silver Bay.

Either way, its something fun, healthy, and a great bonding time for me and my son. I love that little guy so much. He's the love of my life... :)

Growing up a little...

Change. That's what growing up is all about, isn't it? You change. For better, for worse, to adapt...

The bitch about change is that you rarely choose to do it. Life and situations will force it upon you before you realize it's happened.

My childhood made me grow up and become (emotionally, anyway) older, faster than I should have had to become. I keep finding myself in situations that make me grow up.

Yeah, yeah, that's life and quit my whiny bitching and blah blah blah.

My point (and I do have one) is that this is what I found myself on the outcoming end of this summer. Growing up. Being a changed person. Before I realized it was happening, it happened. And it was a big one. I realized that I was a different person. And I struggled with it. I didn't want to be a different person. Particularly because the person I became didn't love her husband as a husband anymore. I hated myself for this change.

I hated myself because I was hurting Erf. Things got really difficult between us. There was no intimacy because I lost all my libido. There were talks that basically consisted of me sitting there while Erf talked for (literally) hours. Seriously. Four hours is a long time to barely be able to get a word in edgewise.

And I thought about it. This new person was my constant companion. And I began to see things through her eyes. I began to see that everything was a constant struggle. And recently I've realized that it was because we were acting like kids playing house. It's a hard truth, but that's what it was. We had a child together, and we all deserved better.

He deserved someone who could love him completely. I can no longer do that, and I can't explain just why. I tried so hard to make myself believe otherwise. Perhaps I took the coward's way out, because I didn't want to try therapy. My reasons are because A) we couldn't afford it and B) I don't see how anyone can make me fall back in love with someone when, frankly, I didn't want to anymore. I realized that we were very different people. I love him as a friend, and I want him to be happy, but I wanted to be happy too.

That feeling of wanting to be happy? Felt like the most selfish thing I could feel.

Things were so strained. And they still are. There are so many things I want to say, that I wish I could say. Things that only my closest family and friends have heard. But in the wise words of Aunt Becky, "Sometimes, those words remained unwritten because they cut too close to home; because sometimes words, feelings, pain, reactions cannot be explained away by logic. The kind of criticism it would open up would pour salt into an already-festering wound. Others remained unwritten because I didn’t want to cause drama or pain."

To cause him more pain would be horrible. I can't cause him any more pain than necessary.

But I wonder how much of his pain I need to take. His hatred toward me, his lashing out - because of me. Where do you find that balance? When you hurt someone as deeply as I know I hurt him, you need to expect to be the proverbial punching bag for a while. But when do you get to stop it?

My wondering, I think, stems from the fact that I'm done simply reacting to whatever is thrown at me. The cheesy alliteration I'd insert here would be some dramatic comparison to being an actor on stage, waiting for my cues. But I have realized that I have totally been out of it, not paying attention to what goes on around me. I've been keeping myself out of it. And I'm trying not to anymore. I'm trying to be proactive instead of waiting until things can't go any longer without being dealt with.

And for the first time, I'm being as independent as I can handle. I'm asking for help when I need it from people I can trust, because I'm not a dumb enough former blonde to think I can do it all by myself. Particularly when I've got Erflet part time. But I'm doing things that are making me feel proud of myself for the first time in a very long time. The last time I remember feeling this pride was when I realized that I was a good mother... Because I worried so much that I wouldn't be.

Now I have my first apartment, I'm fixing things, I'm assembling furniture... I'm the owner of a coffee maker for the first time in my life! These little things are bringing me so much joy, because I can be self-sufficient.

I can handle this. I've got it. I really can do this, and I believe in myself. :)

Yes, kittens! It's a POST!

I know, I've been a terrible, terrible blogger. I haven't updated with regularity, and every post since I got the interwebz was strewn with hostility and a complete and utter lack of humor.

And humor was something you were used to getting from me, kittens. It was something *I* was used to getting from me. But for a while there, I lost it.

I quit my job on Thursday. It felt hella good. It felt like I was getting oral from Gerard Butler while he was offering me diamonds with one hand and chocolate with another. It was delicious, and my tummy was all full of the butterflies. That's not to say that I didn't appreciate the opportunity to learn and grow, but let's face it - when a job nearly makes your husband leave you, it's to the point where it's JUST. NOT. WORTH. IT.

I interviewed for the job on Wednesday morning, and by 3:30 Wednesday afternoon they were calling me to offer me the job... I am going to be a lab technician (doesn't that sound all fucking grown up and shit?) at an optometry place called Eyemart. I'm going to get a white lab coat to wear. One that doesn't make me hug myself all the time! I'm going to be cutting the lenses for glasses and assembling the glasses.

Most importantly, I'm going to have pretty much set hours and I'm going to have a steady paycheck. Because it sucks to have your landlady asking you when you'll be able to pay her SOMETHING towards rent. And having to tell her you didn't know because you didn't know when your next paycheck will be? It was a huge flux from when Erf and I were both in steady, full time jobs and paying our bills with money to spare. I hated it, and it was depressing. And while I know there will still be struggles ahead, I'm looking forward to the time when Erf graduates from school and is able to get a big-boy job, I'll be working full time, and we'll be able to afford a fucking date night now and then.

When I informed my boss of my intentions to terminate my employment, I thanked him for the opportunity and said that he and I both knew that it wasn't working for me. And I didn't (and still don't) feel it's fair to keep working somewhere where it's just not working. He was a good boss. But he looked at me and said, "It's hard for it to work out when you can't give it 100%." And I realized that this was the right choice. 100% means spending more time away from my family than I am willing to, it means sometimes going 3 or 4 days without seeing my son, it means being absent from my marriage... I gave it 100% once. My husband threatened to leave me, my son was having behavioral problems.

Nothing is worth that. Never again.

I like working a set schedule. I like having someone to answer to. I like knowing how much money I'm going to make. If that makes me less of a person in their eyes, than so be it. But I'm happy again for the first time in a long time. I can have tickle fights with my family without being annoyed. I have happily watched my son's behavior problems dissipate.

Yesterday was my birthday, today is Mother's Day. A weekend of celebrating getting myself back. To celebrate being able to have my family begin to reconnect.

I missed me.

Sometimes, we forget.

We forget the little things.

We forget that every action we make is permanent.

We forget that no matter how much we apologize, nothing can ever take back something that hurt someone else.

We forget to tell people when they've hurt us.

We forget to enjoy the sweet baby breaths.

We forget that the laundry/dishes/TV/computer will wait for 10 minutes without irreparable harm while we sit beside our children's bedsides and stroke their hair.

We forget that making the decision to cater first to our families will most likely be the one with the best outcome for our future.

We forget to be faithful to ourselves, even if it's once in a while.

We forget sometimes to balance being faithful to ourselves with being a well-rounded, good person.

We forget to make ourselves happy, and we lose ourselves in the daily grind of trying to eke a living from this crazy, unstable society.

We forget to tell our significant others how much we love and appreciate them.

We forget that it's okay to make dinner from a cardboard box and to serve it on paper plates every once in a while.

We forget that it's important to sit down as a family and share a good meal.

We forget our family.

We forget that while it's great to speak up for yourself, sometimes what you say isn't worth the pain it might cause the person on the other end.

We forget to appreciate the opportunity to shut the fuck up.

We forget to apologize when we underestimate the opportunity to shut the fuck up.

We forget that when Da Momma ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy.

We forget that sometimes it's okay to lose a fight or two to your children. They need to learn that at one time or another, everyone loses - even Mommy and Daddy.

We forget that it's okay to show our children that we're not perfect.

We forget that it's not always okay to do something just because someone else has done it.

We forget that it's okay to compromise, and that it doesn't always need to be our way or the highway.

We forget to speak up for something or someone when we know in our hearts that it's right.

We forget to speak up when we know in our hearts that something is wrong.

We forget that sometimes, it's our fault and no one else's.

We forget that karma has a way of coming out in the wash.

We forget to pay attention to that little warning bell in the pit of our stomach.

We forget to look at every side of a decision before making it.

We forget that it's not okay to feel this unhappy.

We forget that it's okay to want and expect more of the good things that we deserve.

We forget to give ourselves credit.

We forget that feeling this unhappy, sad, restless and frustrated should be motivation to get up and do something about it.

We forget that we are the ones in control of our own destiny.

We forget that nothing is going to just come to us, we have to go to it.

We forget that things that seem ideal and perfect in the beginning usually reveal themselves to be the complete opposite by the time all is said and done.

We forget that we should be accepted because of who we are, not in spite of it.

Sometimes, kittens, I forget. How about you?