ride upon your stallion

Have you ever heard a song that stole your heart, your mind and your very soul?  I think all of us have songs that fulfill something in our lives.  Some music may make us happy or remind us of another time or even give us hope for the future.  My experience with people during the last few years has shown me how passionate one can be about music and/or lyrics.  Styles and genre is debated all the time.  I’ve learned so much from so many about music.  I don’t ever want to stop learning.

Today I heard a song that, years ago, moved me to such an extreme it changed my life and my relationship with myself.  It may not have that effect on anyone else in the world but this is something I can own and I’m marvelling at how much it still gets to me.  It’s remarkable how much it did affect me back then and how changed I am now.  It just clicked!  I feel I’ve worked harder than I thought.

It’s a song about war and a soldier who is in battle, exhausted, weak and alone.

I first heard this Tom Cochrane song back in 1995.  My sister gave me a tape she made me for my birthday and it was the last song on the 120 minute tape so it took a while to get to it.  On this day, I plunked that tape in my trusty Walkman for my daily walk in 28C heat.  I loved to walk in the heat then.

It was an amazing time for me…just bought a house with my boyfriend who had balked about committment for 4 years, my son was the light of my life and could do no wrong, I had a job I loved, some actual girlfriends, I was in great shape for the first time in ages, my parents were healthy and I had a decent relationship with most of my siblings.  I was loved.

On this walk I was finally almost at the end of the tape when the song came on.  As I listened. I could feel the heat from the sun on my face and the sweat running down my body.  Halfway though the song my legs felt weak and I sank onto the grass nearby.  I played that song over and over, crying like my heart was broken in little pieces.

Well, it was.

Shut your eyes my darling there’s nothing you can say
the man in the moon won’t fall on you
he doesn’t live there anyway
you don’t have to be a soldier to fight in your private war
let the blood you might see rain down on me
you don’t have to fight no more

I saw pictures in my head.  I saw a very little girl with bright, curly hair and old eyes.  I saw a man on a white horse reaching down for the fragile little thing and pulling her up to sit in front of him, wrapping his cape and strong arms around her.  He dried her tears and hid her fears for a time, just to show her it can be done.  He knew that all she wanted was for someone else to take the pain from her but she couldn’t let that happen because she couldn’t wish it upon anyone.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the king’s men

That little girl spoke to the strong man and told him and his horse about the fear that has filled her nights in a home where she should be safe from harm and of the fear of people she loved.

He could hear her screaming.

Have you ever cried until there were no tears left? I did that day as I listened to that song again and again.  I could see that little tiny girl grow up to go to school, filled with incredible fear and loathing.  I could see what she saw; a scarred and ugly girl in school where it was kind of hard to make friends because if you looked at her funny she would cry.  She was afraid of everything.

By fourth grade there was a new abuser to take the place of the one before.  He had taken it upon himself to torture that girl and did, until high school.  Unspeakable days and nights.  The bath was her friend; so cleansing and it was the only room with a lock on the door.

ride upon your stallion
and I’ll ride upon your mare
we’ll ride so far, ride so hard
far away from here
and when we look back upon it
it all will become so clear
and the gates will open up for us
and we wont have no more fear
there’s nothing u can say
there’s nothing u can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the kings men

I know there are a lot of little girls out there just like this one.  She’s special to me though because she lives inside me and won’t go away.  Its been rather awkward sometimes, because the more I push her away the more she’s in my face.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change the facts
not all the king’s men
look away look away

you might be tired and troubled but not today
when they come down upon you
I won’t let them get anything on you
and we’ll dream away all those fears and troubles may
look away

we both were motherless children
they sent us separate ways
the family you’d seen beat down on you
mine it was okay
I’ve come to take you back now may
save you from this fate
they won’t have any more chances
to treat you this way

I’ve been in therapy for a long time because of that kid. My love/hate for her has eaten up a lot of my life.  She has made me strong though and, no matter what, I needed her.  If only she had known about me during her time. If only she had known how strong she would be.

I was brave enough a few years ago to go to the police and press charges against my abuser because I could see him grooming another girl and this girl was one I loved too.  The Crown couldn’t take it further because of the time that had elapsed but I had done it; I went on video, told that little girl’s story and dragged up details I thought were gone.  I sat through and answered every embarrassing and difficult question perfect strangers had for me, describing things in achingly painful detail.  I managed to stop him anyway.  I think he lives in fear of me now.

I found out recently my abuser lives less than a block from where I live.

Stronger.

A survivor.  I’m no longer a victim.

there’s nothing you can say
there’s nothing you can send
there’s nothing that can change all that
not all the king’s men

Now I’m listening to “All the King’s Men” by Tom Cochrane for the first time in many years.  I have been on a journey for a very long time, which most of my readers know, and I can see that horse as I listen and look into my heart. There is someone reaching down for that little tiny girl but it’s not a man at all. Not anymore.

It’s the 51-year-old …

me.

u don’t have to be a soldier
to fight in your private war
let the blood u might see rain down on me
u don’t have to fight no more

Holding you tight.  And Our heart is whole again.

How’d That Happen

I know, I know.  It’s been a long time since I parked myself in front of my clanking, deformed laptop.  Well, really, I guess, it can’t technically be  called a laptop when there’s a monitor hooked up to it.  Oh and everything is green on the screen most of the time; a reminder that Spring is here I suppose.  I have a pretty good excuse.  my TV, internet and phone was cut off.  They still are but I went to the competitor and had just the internet installed.  Both Carly and I feel better and more connected.

So where did I leave off last post?  I finished the dating series and that was a lot of fun to write.  It helped me get over some of the horror terror ridiculousness of the experience.  As I left you back in November, I did indeed meet someone.  I’m still with him in fact.  He is a lovely man.  I have no idea how long it will last but I fully intend to enjoy being in a mostly healthy relationship for the first time in my life.  It’s early but hey, I have a very nice fella.

I’ve not been in a great space the last few months. Several factors; including, pre-menopause, menopause (all in one week! No, no just jokes.), my never-ending stress with finances, a full-fledged teenaged daughter who rolls her eyes at me so much she fell down once. Or twice. No, I didn’t push her.

I think this post will be about what the heck is happening around me.  I’ve been noticing behaviours among the human race lately that leaves me quite confused.

The Bus

I take the bus to work pretty regular now.  I work days at least half the month and parking costs more than a week’s worth of groceries.  I actually started liking the bus.  If the bus hits a car it isn’t my fault.  What I don’t like is the fact that I have developed some pretty painful, well, pains, in my left knee and I have tennis elbow in my left arm.  None of this pain comes from riding the bus though.  One of them maybe, in fact, a sex related injury.  I don’t know for sure though. I don’t have a cane ($) so I guess it isn’t obvious that the lurching, obese, sweating woman with the grey starting to peek out from her last home colouring job could really use a seat.  Although, the other day a young guy about 17 got up immediately to give me his seat.  Well that was nice but then I just felt old.

A real gem I meet on the way home.  She is really beautiful, about 20 with skin the colour of milk chocolate and big dark eyes.  For some reason this girl is desperate to get on the bus FIRST.  The first time she elbowed me out of her way so she could get on ahead of everyone, I simply figured she had to pee or she had a period accident.  Well the next day, she tried it again.  I stood my ground even though I almost went sprawling in the street.  I held my place and climbed on before her.  She was then at the back of the line and was trying like mad to sit between 2 large persons on a 3 seater.  She did it on one cheek, almost sending a seatmate into the aisle.  I think I would have to pass gas constantly if I was sitting with her and just not let her up.  I’m deaf to your cries of mercy.

Hey.

My fella is the gas king.  He says he farts when he’s happy.  I think he must be really happy.

I’m having fun imagining him on the bus.

Do you understand how fit one must be to ride the bus? I use muscles I can’t remember having while standing on the bus. After the first couple of weeks days I learned not to hold onto the pole with my left arm as it hurts like hell.  I had to plant my feet and anticipate the driver’s every move and be ready not to go flying into someone.  Which I did a couple of times.  Or my backpack did. I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead from the strain; my leg would cramp at night.  This is not pole dancing, people!

Me

I was in quite a funk for a few weeks which is weird as I was also happy because of the fella and all.  I don’t think I’ve had such conflicting feelings in my life.  I would talk to Dr. G. and we would discuss meds and what was going on but I just couldn’t shake it.  I was not so far gone that I couldn’t fake a better outlook than I felt. I noticed, though, the people I work with have been avoiding me.  I was never one to make a lot of friends but this went a bit beyond that.  One night I made a conscious decision to go into work the next day and smile.  Smile at everyone.  I did.  In no time at all I was interacting with my co-workers again.  I felt better and eventually I wasn’t faking it so much.  Someone invited me for coffee, I sit at table and people come and sit with me and include me in conversations.

I really felt that I was the key factor in coming back this time.  I have to focus every day to accomplish some success.  I am still under brutal stress along with my bi-polar symptoms so this is not always an easy thing to do.  I’m pretty tired.  I’m now looking for a second job, hoping it will relieve some of the stress.

I seem to be making the most stupid mistakes.  Corrie figures it is the menopause.  I feel so vague and my spelling and typing are atrocious.  I always took such pride in those things.  My memory has leaks in it.  It started as a little drip, drip, drip but now it kinda like pin holes in a water balloon.  Lots of pin holes.

Now I hafta pee.

My Car

We will have a funeral for my beloved Mustang soon.  There is no way I can afford to fix it or buy another car.  Losing my Role and Identity of “the-mom-who-you-call-to-take-you-and-all-your-friends-wherever-and-never-say-thank-you-to-her” will be an earth-shaking event for some.  I will miss the freedom and independence a car gives me.  I could shop when I needed to and do other errands without it taking all day.

Oh Wah.

My girl turned 15, is doing amazing at school.  I just cannot believe how well she is doing considering how hard its been for her the last couple of years with me.  Sometimes that “who’s the parent and who’s the child” happens.  She deserves so much more than I can give her now.  Financially and emotionally, I am definitely challenged.  I love her so much and want to give her more.  Not just stuff, but of me.  So fragmented.  I am lucky to have her.  Even when she brings a stray kitty home.  It lasted a week and even she was saying it had to go.  The cute little thing was driving me, well, nuts.

My boy turned 27 and is going to be a dad.  I’m going to be a gramma.  We are so thrilled about this new little being.  Turns out it’s a girl and should be born around my birthday in August.  Jenni felt her move for the first time this afternoon.  Marie will be one of her names.  I’m so honoured about that.  So much to look forward to!

So this is a good start on the road back to writing.  As always, feel free to leave a comment. I’ll be back soon.

Mambo Dating #5

I apologize for the delay in this post.  I was wrestling with old and new demons and have won once again.  Well, I’m getting there.  I need some new ammunition I think.

Well, the saga of my online dating experiences went on.  I think I may have run out of bad guys though so I’ll change it up a bit.  Some good and many bad men have become a part of my history, whether I wanted them to or not.  So like the Mambo #5 song I had various men make an appearance in my life, most very briefly.  I learned from all of them.

One of the things I like about having access to men’s profiles on my selected dating site is the game I’ve had to play to try to read into what they are really talking about.  This isn’t easy in most cases.  The majority of the men I talked about in my last 4 installments had profiles that made them seem like anybody’s dream guy or was so neutral I only found out how bad they were when it was almost too late.

That means, they lie.  Not all do but the many I encountered did.

I wish to give you a few examples and you try to guess the dreamboat I encountered.  All spelling and grammar is included.  Just click on the names and go back to the original post so you can recall their utter charm. I deleted specific mention of places that may identify them.

Example number one:

I am a well balanced man who lives life to the fullest. i enjoy dancing, travel, music, reading, live theatre and much more. my goal/aspirations is to find a woman who is stable who has dealt with past issues/relationships and ready to move forward toward a meaningful relationship. i take pride in myself as a healthy individual without being self absorbed. i am flexable, kind, opened minded, keep up with current affairs and trends. i have no time for negative energy

First Date

i would like to go to a fine outside cafe for lunch and chat to get to know each other. if things clicked, arrangements would be made to meet again to do anything that we’d both feel comfortable doing, spontaneity is cool.

Multiple choice:  a) Pretty Pornographer     b) Bobby or    c) Maxwell

#2:

…The women for me needs a sense of humor. I’m a easy going, jovial guy that likes the simple things in life. You know KISS. That’s me, not flashy just plain me. I like people, so it’s very easy for me to make friends. That’s what I’m looking for in a mate. I’m looking for that women that I can connect with.(Maybe need fish finder?)  I’ve never been married, so I don’t have any children. I own a house in — , that I like to keep clean. I like all kinds of sports, however I don’t play too many any more. Golf, Baseball, and working out once in awhile. I like the beach, especially on a real hot calm summer day. Mmmmmmm – frisbee too…

a)  Bobby  b) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker or c) Dreamy Bald Guy

Okay, one more  #3:

I like being active, I really try to pay it forward all the time. I like down to earth people not those who try to impress the heck out of you with all of their accomplishments. I like a healthier type of lifestyle but I am far from obsessed. I do go to the gym lots but right now it is my stress relief and my social network of like minded people. I want to be a good friend first (chemistry) then all the other good stuff will follow i am sure. My answer to that would be ………..fill in your own blank. I like music,kisses,hugs,lots of smiles,dogs and cats, like slimmer people athletic types just people better sized for me. I really like people who can spell at least reasonably well and who have some command of grammar. Typos happen I get that.

First Date

You lead I’ll follow if it sounds good.

a) Bobby  b) Dreamy Bald Guy  or c) Maxwell

Answers:

1)Bobby   2) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker 3) Dreamy Bald Guy

Those are just a few I had to figure out.

I will end this series with this lovely quote from another dreamy bald guy.  He very kindly gave me his permission to use it.

We have this idea that love is supposed to last forever…… But love isn’t like that… It’s a free-flowing energy that comes and goes when it pleases. Sometimes it stays for life; other times it stays for a second, a day, a month, or a year. So don’t fear love when it comes simply because it makes you vulnerable; But don’t be surprised when it leaves either, Just be glad you had the opportunity to experience it.

We’ve all had that feeling, and its come and gone again, that’s why most of us are here, to try and capture that feeling again, and it is wonderful isn’t it? So if the fates are with us, we will find that person and experience it again, and perhaps, just perhaps it will last forever this time…….here’s hoping.

Oh yeah, I met someone.  He’s pretty dreamy. 🙂

How do I feel right now?

I’ve been racking my brains about what to write with no inspiration at all.  Most of my starts were lame this week; usually this doesn’t happen to me.  Then, I thought of my favourite print a woman I used to know owned of a bed with rumpled white, white sheets under a window that looked out upon a summer morning.  I couldn’t find it online but this one felt almost the same.

From both photos, I get the sense that something wonderful happened in that bed.  It didn’t have to be sex at all (although that would be nice) but a night filled with whispers in the dark, secret touches, breaths colliding in unison, and two minds exploring the dreams of the other.

Then a morning escape for a day with a future.

Makes one sigh.  I sure did.

Trust Within

I felt it was time for an update for my readers about what the hell is going on.

I wish I knew.

I know I was in the depths of despair not long ago and rallied somewhat.  Then I couldn’t seem to write a word.  Now I can.

I last posted a beautiful photograph I found on Stumbleupon.  Before that and ever since I have been searching for beauty and, hopefully, finding strength in it.  In order to do that I had to find beauty/strength from within.

I never really knew how that worked.  How can one find, among this jumbled, cock-eyed mess that is my head, find beauty?  It turned out to be kind of easy.

Because I’m no longer working I have time.  So I’ve taken it.  I’ve had naps which I know are not allowed.  This deep restful sleep has made me see things in my head I never knew was there.  The bad part is, I would wake up rested (good), drive my daughter to school and/or volleyball practice then come home again only to feel the force of my head wanting to hit my pillow (bad), with my mask over my nose.  I promise you, my eyes were so heavy there was no way I could refuse this absurd seduction.

So I would sleep.

When I grew stronger and I had to go out, I would make a point of noticing things.  Well, people mostly.  What they wore, how they carried themselves and how I could see them.  I learned a lot.  Mostly that whatever I was wearing made me look like a person with a mental illness. So I started to notice what I was wearing and how I was carrying myself.

I wanted to fit into this world that was going on without me.

This changed a few things.

My strength was palpable within a week.  Maybe not as noticeable to most folk but I felt every. little. step. forward.  I bought food that made sense so Carly could have lunches for school.  I drove without as many people honking at me. I smelled every wonderful smell and also the horrible smell of slaughter when the wind was wrong; i.e. coming my way.  I watched TV for the first time in over a year.  I made connections with people and discovered kindness I never knew existed and the majority coming from strangers.  Mostly, I was able to accept those very things that were offered to ME.

I realized it was okay to wake up and stay awake.  I could see colours I never saw before.  I ventured out of my comfort zone more than once, got lost more than once and found my way every time.

I learned new things I thought I already knew. I realized and admitted I didn’t know and now I do.  I was able to accept the praise of people I love and strangers too and that’s amazing.

I saw my GP last week and got disturbing news about some lab results.  My hormone levels went through the roof, at least triple the normal level.  I had already figured I was in menopause for obvious reasons but this was beyond that.  There was a hint of a possible ovarian cyst or tumor.  But that’s not what I see for me.  Thanks to Sherree , a fellow blogger, I found a whole new avenue on Google to explore.  My fears of terminal illness has been put to a tentative rest.  Theories abound and I must not waste my time on this earth worrying about it and using it as another excuse to hide from this world.  I am able to wait for the follow-up tests without panic, at least most of the time.

I know I’m stronger than before.  I have some proof if you need it.  I kinda did.  My readers may remember a scant 2 months ago I parted ways from a boyfriend who I was madly in love with.  We were together for just over a year.

We communicated last night for the first time since our breakup.  I’d only allow us to chat without the benefit of video or sound.  He seemed to have a lot to say.  Mostly he wants to “take me away from all the stress”, rent a hotel room and spend a weekend together.

So yeah, readers, I said no.  For an hour and a half I said no.

Dr. G asked me how hard was it to say no.  It was so hard, unbelievably hard.  How did I do it?  I just kept repeating in my head what it was he really wants and the hell I’ve already gone through.  I know I have feelings for the guy and there was no way I could survive “just a weekend” with him.  I also knew that if he offered more I knew I would never survive that either.  My kids hate him. I realized then how cruel he really was.

Dr. G was so proud of me.  I’ve been patting myself on the back all day and this evening too.  This was a great opportunity to demean myself but I finally realized:

I’m worth more than that.

So I’m doing better.  I start a new phase in my life (again) and I got here with a lot of heartache, torture and self loathing.  Mind you, having a good day with the difference of knowing how to hold on to that extraordinary feeling that there are still good days.

Thanks for reading.  RIP Steve Jobs.

me n her

We did it.  The girl and I went out.  We had some shopping to do and I had no idea how I was going to do it. I came upon some money by accident.  Too many things happened at once (really, at once is a ridiculously redundant term as everything just keeps happening!); her retainer cracked, then she lost it, then she found it, and it was still cracked ($125).  She tried out for volleyball and did it!  Now we need volleyball shorts and knee guards.

No gas, getting low on supplies…ARGH!  Some things never change. What’s a girl to do?

I found a file at work (I’ve been a little unfocused these last few weeks), and in it was my expenses and mileage sheet.  For 2 months.  $132.00.

That’s Canadian $.

Put that with my ex’s meager “child support” payment and I had about $200.00.  Canadian.  Wheee!

So, our appointment for the orthodontist was today at 3:00.  I had it all planned out.  I would go to work then attend my own doctor’s appointment, go home and have a short nap.  I woke feeling quite refreshed when I woke up and filled with plans for the day.  Gonna be a good Momma and provide for my child.

I realized I lost my bank card.  No worries, I had to cash my expense cheque anyway.  Plenty of time, not really realizing exactly what time it was.

It was lovely at the bank, as the teller remembered me from the last 4 times I needed a new card.  Cashed my cheque and I felt positively rich!

I had told Carly I would meet her at 2:45.  I finally checked my phone for the time.  3:15.  Her appointment was at 3:00.

I lost half an hour or more somewhere in my day.

She called me just as I pulled into the driveway of the school.  I parked and she came and found me.  I was mortified by what happened.  I pulled into a parking lot and called the orthodontist about rescheduling.  I was going to start explaining about the onset of menopause to the young woman at the other end of the line but as soon as I started I received at WHAP on my arm from my sweet offspring who has gone without her top retainer for a week.  Now, with a no-nonsense, non spinny, professional mother attitude, booked a new time. Five minutes later I sheepishly called back to book another because I forgot I work for a living.  By the end of the last conversation I had with the appointment-booker-person she was speaking to me in a tone of voice reserved for the types of people who, um, have a hard time understanding things.  You know; she was slowly enunciating each word in her sentences.

Okay that was done, let’s go spend some money on my kid.  I’ve learned to love shopping with Carly.  She is so thorough and I can wander away and she always finds me. (Who’s the kid?  Who’s the grownup?  I dunno but I have the money, honey.)

First place was a big box sports store, highly overrated and overpriced.  Knee guards, $35.  Shorts were $45.  We bought the knee guards. thinking if we find cheaper ones we can simply return these ones.  After this there was Wal-Mart, who had nothing so it was to the mall we went to next.

Carly was so hungry and wanted a teen burger.  I had a muffin for supper.  Supper still cost us about $10.  My fortune was dwindling.  We wandered the mall.

My hips are old now and don’t like to walk for too long then they usually take up singing lessons with my back.  Throw some hot flashes in there and you have a groovy new dance that should never be seen in public.

Yet there I was.

Yeah, I’m a man-magnet.

After a while, with no luck at the mall and me trying hard not to notice my exploding bladder (well, almost) we headed in the general direction of the bathrooms.  As I hobbled towards the blessed porcelain of utmost relief and happiness, I left my daughter with a loonie and massaging chairs.

I made a beeline for those same chairs after my business was complete, with my own loonie in hand.  Took me a few minutes to understand what Carly was saying about the chair I was sitting in and about to load the coin into.  I think I was a little excited.  Finally, I grasped the words “That one doesn’t work, Mom” said with much eye rolling.  I went to the next one and plugged it.

Oh. My. Goodness.  I want to marry this chair.  I want this chair.  Oh, Oh, Oh.  I enjoyed it so much I barely noticed Carly escaping around the corner, intent on her Blackberry, pretending she is alone.

I think I was drooling.

When I opened my eyes there was a man standing there staring hard at me.  I gave him a thumbs up.  He grinned and held out his own loonie.  Oh. Sadly, he meant it for himself.  Bye bye chair.

I felt much better (I actually typed “mush” by accident. now that’s funny!) so we explored a bit more of the mall.  Nothing in the way of shorts though; it’s hard to find the right fit for my tiny girl.

By the time we got back into the car to start our search again, I realized I was almost, really close to being, out of gas.  $20 more dollars for that. The $10 from the day before only lasted, well, a day.

We tried another place where all they sell is athletic gear.  They do not sell women’s shorts.  At all.

Carly’s friend texted her from the store where they found shorts galore.  I would like to add that I am so happy other parents are going through this.  Carly would not hear of her friend’s dad buying Carly some shorts and me paying him in the morning.  It was worth a try.

The store was on the other side of town and I THOUGHT I knew where it was.  After a few kilometers I realized I didn’t.  I pulled onto a side street where Carly and I worked our BB’s and downloaded apps and all that stuff to figure out where the store was.  My phone’s map guide thingy kept taking me back to Winnipeg Beach which is not even close to where we actually were.  I guess it has fond memories of it too.

Sigh.

Carly was the one who let out the screech of triumph and started giving me directions.  All I could hear was “North” and I actually did know where that was. The rest of her instructions were just a jumble.

“How do you know this way is North?” asks the little brat.  I explained that I just knew and to please trust me.  I heard mutterings of “grumble appointments, grumble, grumble, getting lost, grumble” and succeeded in ignoring this vortex of teen-aged negativity sitting beside me.

Yay.  We did it; we found the shorts. $35.  They fit her tiny frame and they were going with her to volleyball fame.

Home was sweet to get to except for the stench of whatever was going on in the hallways of our building.  I never smelled anything like it in my life!  Carly and I had to cover our noses and mouth and find our way to our apartment with watering eyes and stomachs that wanted to retch.  Unfortunately, the unholy smell had seeped under the door and into our apartment.  We stood over the plug-in air freshener until we got our bearings and stuffed up the crevice under the door and sprayed air freshener everywhere.

Now I sit, drinking the last 2 glasses of the wine that the lovely woman my son loves bought for me.  I will worry about the retainer fee tomorrow and whatever else has to be paid for later.

Right now, I feel good.

50 Lessons in 50 Years

There are always things to learn.  I want to know more about more things. I also want to do better at the things I do.  I want to just be better.  I don’t think I’m progressing fast enough though.

I realized a long time ago sometimes I have to stop, look back on what’s been going on and realize how far I’ve come. How much things have changed.  A little credit, if you will.  Two weeks ago, August 22, I turned 50.

And I’ve come a long way.  Baby.

breakfast-at-tiffanys-audrey-hepburn-1961

Thanks to the inspiration that came from Karen of Dreamin the Life blog , who, by the way, does not even know me.  I also stole wisdom from many others because they helped me to know what my truth is.  Hopefully I’ll word everything properly so it makes sense.

(Note: Many of these lessons have been acquired from other sources along my journey, and are not original thoughts.)

1. The first pancake always turns out badly.

2. I don’t have to get along with everyone, or make everyone like me.

3. Love makes me stupid.

4. I always have at least 2 choices, even if I don’t like the choices.

5. Sometimes even women need to learn to MTFU.

6. Most people operate out of selfish motivations.

7. It’s rarely about me.

8. Diet Pepsi is evil.

9. It’s okay to break the rules, as long as you are good enough not to get caught, and you aren’t hurting anyone.

10. “Be kinder than necessary ’cause everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.”

11. There’s three sides to every story; his, hers, and the truth.

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12. Time doesn’t heal anything; it’s what you do with that time.

13. Complaining and blaming other people doesn’t help anything, and makes for miserable company.

14. Everything in my life is my responsibility.

15. I train people how to treat me.

16. There’s always hope.

17. I can always be grateful for something.

18. I’ve never made a mistake because I learned a lot of lessons.

19. My brain is complicated but not unmanagable.

20. Showing emotion is not a sign of weakness.  Knowing when it’s appropriate is a skill.

21. Google can answer anything.

22. Being silly is one of my favorite qualities in a person.

23. Honesty is always the easiest route.  It shouldn’t have to hurt though.

24. You should never stop learning, or trying to be a better person.

25. Worrying is useless, unless it motivates you to take action.

26. When people show you who they are, believe them.

27. There is only fear, and love.  And one of them is way more fun.

28. Love seems to be way over-rated

29. Verbalize what my relationship means to me – to my lover, my kids and also to me.  Listen.

30. Support my children’s dreams

31. Hold your children as much as you/they want while they are young.  They grow fast.

32. I’m responsible for the two wonderful children I have and acknowledge my role in raising them.

33.  It’s real easy to kick myself when I’m down.

34.  I’m a lot stronger than I ever thought possible.

35.  I am more vulnerable than I could imagine.

36.  I have many talents that haven’t been developed yet.

37. I love to write so much I get lost in it.

38. Beautiful things take my breath away.

39. Beautiful words will last a lifetime with me.

40. I love it when the man I love hugs me from behind and whispers in my ear.

41. I’m terrified of becoming my mother even though I admire her.

42. I’m more forgiving than I should be.

43. I don’t like to be told what to do.

44. I cook better than I realized.

45. I’m impressed when people ask me for my advice.

46. Discussion of ex-gf’s and ex-bf’s should be avoided at all times.

47. It’s cheating as soon as a man is doing something with another woman that he wouldn’t want me to see, hear, read…

48. Banks are people too!

49. Dieting does not work for me.

50 Life isn’t fair.

Good thing I’m just 50.  Whew, that took some work and soul-searching. Thank you to every person I love, who has taught me something, or encouraged me along the way.

Feel free to add to the list in the comments below.

4 Days of “The End”

I’m going to try really hard not to whine or be too sappy.  Some sappiness is necessary because some of this post is about my Mum.  You know what that means.  Hankies at the ready…not for you but me for sure. Whining is also gonna happen.  I promise to keep it to a minimum.

Everything started on Thursday night with a ridiculous fight with my fella.  We had just spent the week before together and half way through that week, I knew it wasn’t going to work any more.  And that realization hurt more than anything else that happened after.  Less than a week after I went home we had the fight that was so long in coming.  I ended up hanging up on our video call with him still spewing garbage at me.  Wonder how long it took him to realize I wasn’t there?

I’m not going to say much about our relationship only because I hardly mentioned him in my other posts.  He is a sweet man with many faults, as do I but ours were not the kind of faults that work well together.  We were very different in many ways.  We didn’t argue much except for the last few weeks and that wasnt even arguing, it was more me shutting my mouth and taking it. I’m pretty easy-going about lots of things but only up to a point.

I always need time to think through things that are happening and whether these problems are because of me and/or my bipolar disorder.  I’ve learned to examine things (like this relationship) and try to discover the things that are real, exaggerated or nonexistent.  I do this on a daily basis with just about everything.  No wonder I’m so tired.  I thought about this a lot with Dennis and I.  And hey, I gained 30 pounds since I met him.  Eh?

Friday night was more of the same garbage flinging and after only a few harsh sentences were hurled at my head I told him it was over.  He was quite agreeable.  I wanted off that call before I heard more about what’s wrong with me.  I didn’t want to tell him off.  There was just no point.  So I hung up.  Just leave it at that.  Done after a year.

I learned so much good stuff from all the good stuff and the bad stuff too.  It made me realize what I wanted more than what I didn’t want.

For good measure I deleted him and his family from my Facebook so I wouldn’t have to deal with more pain.  It is still so raw for me.  I loved him and his family so much and tried to help out and be a friend to everyone as much as I could.  This relationship was not a mistake but just a really positive learning experience.

My Facebook friends have been drastically depleted since I didn’t have a whole lot to begin with.

I only started this post with him because it was the first day of the series of endings.

Saturday, my laptop finally died.  I had a monitor for it because the built-in one bit the dust a while ago when Carly was using it.  Surprise, surprise.  It was working really well since April with the monitor but now it is no more.  My Carly is heartbroken; not for me but because she has to share hers now, which was mine in the first place.  I mourned the articles and letters, the pictures and the files I carefully made to suit my idiosyncrasies

Oh then I received a phone call from my second job, where I have been on hiatus which was supposed to last only the month of August.  I was excited to hear from them because I was eager to get back to work and pay rent.  Lo and behold and alas and of course; they aren’t sure when I will be called back to work.  It could be as long as six months.

Great. Now what do I do?  Never mind the income I so desperately need but working the two jobs would essentially speed up the healing process in getting over my, er, laptop’s demise.

Crap.

I say that a lot.

Sunday my daughter came home after a week with her dad. I was filled with joy and merriment.  So was she, really.  No end of that in sight here.

Monday, (hanky UP) I sold my mother’s land she left me in her will.

I’ve talked about that land a lot on these pages.  Mom told me it was for a woman in the family who would need it just in case she needed her “own” money, either by renting it out, living on it or selling it.  There is not really much land there (2.44 acres) but it was always special to me.  It took a year to sell.  I had just gone there with Dennis a couple of weeks ago for a day trip and emailed the real estate agent with my new contact information this past Saturday. Today she emailed me back with an offer to purchase.

My Mum, she always knew when I’m needing something badly.  Then and now.  She’s been gone since 2007 and she’s still everywhere.  My life keeps changing and never seems to settle down and she pops up on a regular basis.  There won’t be a lot of money from this at all but it should be enough to get a lawyer so I can get my child support and my share of the house from that man.  Thank you Mom.

My Mom had to know my life was not going to be easy because she went to a lawyer and picked my name to be the one to get this incredible gift of land. I know she was hoping I would be able to keep it, live on it, die on it and leave it for my own kids.  So was I.  This will never be possible now.

I wanted to live there but I had no idea how that would even work. The land has no well, no hydro, no septic field.  There are no buildings on it at all, just wildflowers and the odd canola bloom here and there.

So a lucky couple found a great deal.  They will never know the history of the land.  Did you know my Gramma was a bookie?  In the 1930’s she was a very young widow with three children and there was no work for a woman anywhere at that time.  Except for Mr. Sleezri (now I’m totally making up that name but not the story).  He had great ideas and his finger in many pies.  My gramma was very pretty when there weren’t kids attached to her so he put her to work collecting bets.  She ended up with her own bookie business not long after and continued it until her death at age 92.

I remember my gramma had 2 fridges in the kitchen.  The regular sized one had no food in it.  It just had slips of paper neatly set out in rows on the shelves.  Sometimes there was money in it too.  The other was a bar fridge worked into a lower cupboard in the kitchen and held the milk, eggs and such.  Her suite was filled with things.  Brush and comb sets to TVs, furniture.  Lots of gifty items too.   Yeah, so if you couldn’t pay a bet to my gramma, you were allowed to barter.  I don’t think she broke any legs but she had a lot of stuff.

That’s how she got the land; from some poor gambling addict farmer who divided up his farm land and gave her a piece.  He paid rent to her too, for decades until my gramma died and my Mum got it.

If you could have seen the other pics to choose from. Wow. This looks more like me.

I come from a long line of survivors and strong women who were ahead of their time.  They would do anything to care for their families. Loved ones meant just that – loved ones.  I realize these circumstances are to make me stronger.  Judging from the past experiences in my life, I sincerely believe I should be Super Woman by now.

So these important losses are really the start of new beginnings.  Again I start over because, again, I can.

Except for the man part.  Blech.

Something Comfortable

As my birthday fast approaches (and with it a terrible number I never thought I would see) I’ve realized a few things.  For one thing, I’m a bit of a drama queen.  “Oh no” you scoff.  I can hear you.  I am for sure.  I don’t like it but there it is and there is no 12-step program out there for it either.

Being a drama queen is not as easy as you might think.  Think of all the work involved.  There are many ups and downs in my life that have nothing to do with my brain/mental health/moods.  Granted some do.  I don’t go out of my way to create drama; it just seems to follow me around like my daughter’s explosion of horrible stinking gas delicate fluff as she walks by me in the kitchen.

See? Drama right there.  It’s an art.

I know lots of people have lots of stories about me and drama.  I won’t go into them here although some may try to tell you stories in the comments.  Check with me first.

At this stage/age, I want something different; something more than just drama.

I want to be comfortable.

What does that mean exactly?  Well, funny you should ask that because I’m just about to tell you.

I want to look at myself.  Not just glance in a mirror and swear at my hair but really be able to look at myself and say, “Now that’s just fine”.  When I look at myself I do not want to be looking for the imperfections, (believe me there are more everyday, when will I ever run out?!) and just be happy to see me there.  It’s not just on the outside I feel I’m lacking but I find so many things wrong on the inside too. There was a time I couldn’t sleep nights thinking of more things that were wrong with me.  Dr. G. gave me back my sleep with his amazing combination of meds.  Not only the gift of my sleep, of course; he gave me back my life.  So I do all my fretting in the daytime.

Okay, now that was heavy and rather dramatic but necessary for you to see how desperately I need to be comfortable.

I don’t want to worry about money.  Actually, I don’t mind worrying about money just not as much as I have been these past couple of years.  I hate owing everyone for everything.  This just causes drama and you might have heard I swore off that stuff.

To be comfortable I would have to have good smells around me.  I love good smells.  Freshly mown grass, cookies baking, as long as they’re not baking in my house as that would cause more drama, see.  I would eat them all.  It would not be the daughter crying and carrying on because they’re gone. It would be me because I gained 5 more pounds and I can’t look in the mirror again. I love the smell of healthy sweat.  I always smell my arm after being outside in the sun.  My skin smells almost nutty and smells like the sun.

When I was pregnant with Carly, my sense of smell was so acute that man could not come to bed until he thoroughly showered.  Which he rarely did at the best of times. When he did, though, I always knew if he missed a spot.  Needless to say, he slept on the couch a lot. I had bad smells here last night when the wind turned and the slaughterhouse aromas wafted through my windows.  Nothing like the smell of shit born of fear from cattle being herded to their death.

Oooookay,  a little much, so sorry.

Comfortable would mean having friends I actually see; not just my far-away-friends or my Facebook friends or even my blog or Twitter friends. A group of women who want to get together and yak, have a little wine and try to save the world.  They could be there when I need them and I will always be there for them.  Always.

I have a comfortable relationship with my family, even if it has shrunk the last few years.  I am close to one sister and her family and my kids, of course.  I love them all so much I practically ache.  They mean the world to me and, surprisingly, this intensity is sooo comfortable.  And necessary.

I would like a comfortable relationship with a man who’s not afraid to have a relationship and won’t feel it necessary to mess up ours.  I want Clarence.  He’s my sister’s husband.  Not really Clarence but a man like him.  Someone who knows who he is and comfortable with his life and himself.  He works together with his wife and family to have lives that are fulfilling and their children are more than just socially acceptable.  He sees that his family is nourished, not just with food, but with love, respect and support.  He works hard and doesn’t complain.

I am no longer seeing the fella, Dennis, after a year of giving it a try.  We got close to it but something in both of us just didn’t fit together for the long-term.  Settling isn’t comfortable for me.  I’ve done that too many times already.  Besides, he didn’t seem to think I was so shit hot anyway.  I was ready to move on too.

Ah, now how to get to this point of comfortable?  Smells are easy as long as people don’t mind me telling them how great they smell.  These would be strangers and no one called the cops yet.

I am wiser about money and know I will be more comfortable handling it in the next few months.  I work hard and know that’s the ticket to getting ahead.

I am trying to stay in contact with my women friends in the city.  We all have busy lives.  I see a course or hobby in my future and then I can meet new people who will share my interests.  I’m just not sure what to pursue.  I will do something though but must first search for time.  Once I’m back to work at my second job time will be a premium.  Well, I will find a way.  I put it in writing after all.

Finding a man?  It can wait.  Enough damage done with the last couple of guys.  I really hate the thought of all those firsts where I used to look forward to them.  I don’t want to make small talk or wonder about kissing and heaven forbid getting naked in front of someone again.  I was just getting comfortable with Dennis. 

And no, Clarence does not have any available brothers.

So that’s the plan, what there is of it.  Feel free to voice ideas, thoughts and travel plans in the comments.  I would love to hear from you.

A Little Bounce Goes a Long Way

We had boxes.  We had bags. Even a little furniture. They were on time.  We were as ready as we were gonna be.  It was hot and humid and my deodorant was missing.

The moving men were really just boys but really big, really strong boys.  I saw one pick up my box spring and hoist it on his shoulder like he was carrying a ghetto blaster.  Then he went whistling out the door to toss it to his buddy who then placed it on the truck.  My fella and I just looked at each other and shook our heads.  We watched as one of them picked up three boxes of my books at once and carried them like they weighed nothing.

Amazing.  Youth is amazing.

So the gigantic men/boys climbed into their truck while we climbed into our car/truck and headed for our new digs.  Carly and I were very excited; I think I was more so as I couldn’t stop an occasion squeal from sneaking out of my throat.

We arrived and climbed the stairs to the caretaker’s apartment.  Interesting woman and I would need a whole post just to tell you about her.  This post shall give you a glimpse of what she was like the day I moved into my new life.

Greta was so pleased to see us and invited us in for tea.  umm, we came for keys, Greta.  “Oh no,” she said “you moving in tomorrow.”  Carly’s face = white.  I felt like I was going to faint.  Greta is from Croatia and hasn’t been in Canada all that long.  She got out the lease; I asked for a calendar and hauled out my shiny new phone.  I showed her the date on the lease, the date on the calendar and, finally, the date showing on my phone.

“Oh, Marie! Move in today! Oh Marie I not realize this”  She found a pen and Carly giggled at me while I jumped up and down and signed the lease and the other papers landlords seem to need. Downstairs we went to our new place where Greta knocked and knocked on the door, muttering that she hoped she doesn’t wake them up.

Huh?  Eh?

After several minutes of this she finally left us to go back upstairs to get a key. 

Huh?

Finally, the door opened to our new home.  Carly ran from room to room checking everything out.  It was clean and ours.  It smelt funny though.  And it was hot.  Humid.  The movers arrived and started the business of moving.

I asked Greta for our keys.  She didn’t have one.  I patiently said I would wait until she got one from her place.  She said she had no more keys.  No keys for the apartment.

Eh?

She was stuck on what she was supposed to do about that. Luckily I had my shiny new phone, where Carly found the email the former tenant sent me about the sublet.  Well, first she found the email from him about erectile dysfunction (I truly believe the poor man was a victim of a scam, he has 4 children and would have been  horrified to know I received this).  Of course Carly wanted to know what erectile dysfunction was.  Wanting her to find the other email fast, I just said it was for guys who couldn’t get it up.  She had no idea what I was talking about. Thank goodness.  I told her I would explain it to her when she was 18.  My mom used to say that to me too.  A lot.  I usually knew by then.

Finally, the correct email made its appearance and I phoned the former tenant.  He said he would be right over with the keys.  Carly’s face was visibly more relaxed and set to directing the movers like a pro.  Until I realized she was having them bring all her stuff to her room but everything else to the living room or my room.  In other words, if it ain’t her’s who the heck cares?

Eh?

The former tenant arrived, all smiles and happy to see us. He had keys. I told him Greta wanted to see him so off he went and returned with Greta (and the keys!) a few minutes later. They had to do the move-out report form.

While they did that, I tried to fish out the canned goods from my bedroom and my underwear from the kitchen.  Then I got the royal tour from the former tenant.  Greta went back upstairs, saying she will be back to do a move in report with me.  I told her I had to leave for work by 3:00.

Since I had to work that night I struggled to get some order to the kitchen.  I found the kitchen garbage can, lined it with a bag and pulled open the cupboard door under the sink only to have it come right off in my hand.  Meantime, Carly was starving so I suggested grilled cheese. 

GD stove didn’t work.

A horrendous screeching and wailing came from down the hall.  It was the bathroom fan.  It was so loud one couldn’t hear what another person was saying.  It was a truly frightening sound and kinda snuck up on you while you were in there. Carly took her bedside lamp in so she can have a shower without screaming in fright whenever the fan decided to go bonkers.

I made a list for Greta.  She arrived the next morning while I was frantically getting ready for work.  She said the things on my list would be fixed in 2 days.

Our apartment is so nice and all the rooms are huge.  The only thing about it is the smell.  One storage closet smelled of cabbage and feet so bad.  I had Carly put fresh bounce sheets up in there and it worked like a charm.

And it’s so damned hot. Hopefully payday I will be able to buy a couple of fans.  We’re in a basement apartment so there’s not much air movement.

Moving day did go well. I was imagining all kinds of things that could have gone wrong and only a few of them actually did and those were easily fixed.  What I didn’t anticipate, though, was going to work that night and finding out I would have no more work at my second job for the month of August.  So now its a struggle again financially but I feel I am taking it in stride.  Carly has to get used to me saying “no” once again and she’s used to that already. 

To wake up in my own home without someone trying make my life as miserable as possible is so absolutely wonderful.  I smile every time I wake up in the morning.

I just need time to unpack and absorb it all.  🙂