Monday Morning
At this precise moment, we are watching home videos of Jordy's pre-school rendition of the Three Little Pigs. Which actually consists mostly of Jordan honking on a recorder, jumping up and down and readjusting her snout every other second. The cuteness quotient however is off the scale.
Until later.
Something On a Sunday
Dad invited KC and I over to dinner last night, the usual Italian fare, which was fine with me as it saved me from having to spend unnecessary time in the kitchen, neither preparing or cleaning. Even figured I'd bring our own Romano cheese, as Dad never seems to have any around and of course, I had guessed correctly. As a thank you very much for dinner, I decided to leave the bottle there as an oops.
After dinner, Becky and Jodi opted for a bicycle ride while Dad and KC went for a short little walk. Normally I would have tagged along, but having just purchased (I told you I shouldn't be let out of the house with money.) the new Tori ~ Welcome To Sunny Florida DVD (Sorry Mike ... Did you really think this instant gratification girl could wait for a burned copy?) I wasn't about to miss out on the chance to watch it on the big screen with surround sound.
And it was marvelous. As well as very reminiscent of the concert I saw out in Syracuse back in March of 2003. The woman is a genius.
I do have to share one little bit of funny with you before I take myself off this morning to do chores and other necessary evils about the house. A brief moment dating itself back to yesterday while I was at HOME DEPOT inspecting color slides for the color of KC's new room.
We had just turned a corner, cart and all, loaded with yet another bag of peating moss and verbena, when we almost crashed head first into this really good looking guy. Making our apologies, we maneuvered around each other but as we did, I couldn't help but notice (the incredible mass of muscle in his upper body, the thick brown hair, short and spiked, the way he moved with confidence and agility ...) the fact that his pants seemed to have a little bit more than a blow out. I kid you not, he looked like a bizarre accident.
And when I say blow out, I mean that the entire ass of his jeans were hanging around his knees, leaving his entire hind end - clad in white blue speckled boxers - on display for all the world to see. (Hallelujah to the lord of bad fashion!)
KC however was quite puzzled, and as a parent, I wondered if I shouldn't do something more productive like shade her eyes, even as I tried to get a better look. KC however required explanation, almost taking it upon herself to go ask him with how loudly she was whispering to me.
Which leads me to the fact that eight year olds, even one as precocious as mine, can be deceived with even the tiniest bit of convincing.
Who knew that self air conditioning pants were all the rage with roof builders?
Money Like Water
I spent a small fortune, or to be better said, the last of my tax money I had tucked away for the purpose of putting a down payment on a new car. But as it turns out, new car be damned. KC needed a new bed much more than I needed that dream Volkswagen Pasatt ... Sigh.
It is however a beautiful bed.
Now all I have left to do is clean KC's room, pack off some items to charity and convince a few willing helpers they want to be invited over for a painting party. I have a feeling this is going to be much easier said than done.
Volunteers welcome!
Here In My Head
How sad am I?
On second thought, don't answer that ...
Tori On the Wire
Mike brought me in the new Tori B-sides to listen to today. A mistake to be sure, I want to ignore all the phone calls ringing into my office. Inspired, I'm scribbling bad poetry on my color coded notecards again ... I'm working one on orange right now. Perhaps I'll share later? For now I leave you with lyrics.
Ruby through the Looking-Glass
feel a little hand turning inside me
don't you think she feels us fighting
strike me at the root
I won't let you
put her through
what you put me through
when i said ---- I wanted it all,
doesn't every woman want it all ...
running through the house screaming
girl unstrung you could always play that one
Baptized of fire and
every beat in the bar
Hymns for her
feel her kick me from the inside
when I said ---- I wanted it all,
doesn't every woman want it all ...
as a man ---- do you find,
doesn't every boy smoke to cry ...
you could almost drown her waterfall
you could almost drown my waterfall
through the Looking-Glass, Ruby sees
things in you
things in me
she won't wanna be
just a little light turning the key
at the root, what I missed ...
she will carry
when I said ---- I wanted it all,
doesn't every woman want it all ...
as a man ---- do you find,
doesn't every boy smoke to cry ...
feel a little hand
turning
turning
Ruby
~ Tori Amos
Fancy Footwork
Somehow I forgot to pencil in on the calendar that KC has no school today. In addition to that, I've just been informed that the sitter sent a note home (a note I never laid eyes on) that she would be taking today through Monday off for Memorial Day.
Houston ... We have a problem.
I've no other choice but to call Dad and turn on the whine, so he can bail me out of yet another little snaffu. I am loathe to dial the phone, but there is absolutely no other choice.
Just call me daughter non grata.
Room With a View
Thanks to those who took the time to check on the status of my health ... I am happy to report that I am alive and kicking. Although I did promise my Mom that should the symptons arise again, I will be sure to schedule (shudder) a visit with the doctor.
Anyhoo, absolutely nothing has happened. Although work has been quite busy this week considering the Memorial Day holiday coming up. (3 day weekend.)
I did however meet one of my favorite customers today. He dropped in to say hello and thanks for a special order I rushed through for him. All I could think of as I stood there with a stupid smile plastered on my face was hubba, hubba, hubba. And though I considered proposing marriage right then and there, I opted to keep that idea to myself for the time being. (Mental note to self ... Flirt more often with Greg.)
Invisible Ouch
I've got a pain. A sharp shooting pain in my right side. It started out as a twinge last night, small enough that it could be ignored. This morning it was a little worst, worst than a twinge but not quite bad enough to prompt a day at home. Now it's bad. It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think.
So I'm going to bed hoping to find it won't hurt to sleep.
Until tomorrow ...
Moving In a Forward Motion
No more sleeping the weekend away. No more calling up friends all hours of the night. No more pity parties with Kleenex, Bridget Jones and all her cronies. No more blaring loud angry chick music and singing along with every heartfelt lyric. Not going to do it, nope. I am officially over it.
And since I am officially over it, there's no time like the present to climb right back on the horse and take a new ride.
I'm single, I'm available and I'm back on the dating scene. (And coming to an area near you ...)
Shopping Therapy
Still a bit of a sloth this morning, although I did manage to wake up a bit earlier than yesterday. I'm sitting here wrapped in KC's Mickey Mouse beach towel, hair still wet from the shower, thinking about what things I'll be doing today.
I suppose soon I shall have to call my sister (Amy) and see if she'd like to make a run to a couple of hardware stores with me to look for a new computer desk for KC since Dad gave us - KC- one of their spare computers. Also still need to find her a suitable bed frame to replace the one that was broken. Not much luck there as everything costs more than a mint, and the craftsmanship in my opinion in not worth the extra bucks.
As for last nights shopping trip, Bren and I hit a few select stores and managed not to spend every dime in our pocketbooks. I bought new dining plates at BB&B, but only had enough cash on hand last night for four ...The remainder of the set I've figured will have to be built one paycheck at a time.
But I like these plates. Glistening white squares, very simple and elegant to boot. Although I don't think Brenda was as keen on them as I. But lately I've come to realize that sometimes understated sophistication is far better than in your face I'm too expensive for you to even be looking at me artifice. So I got them and I'm very happy with the purchase. I guess there's some things I want to change around here and for some reason the plates seemed qood place to start.
I also bought a new shelf for KC which I will attempt to hang level today. It will be a nice surprise for her to come home to, to see I've bought her the display shelf she was begging me for on Friday. I'm so proud of my little one, she's the first in our line of women to conquer her two left feet ...
Anyhoo, I'm girl on the move.
Sleep as an Art Form
Normally wasting a Saturday in such a lazy fashion would set my teeth on edge. But today it just felt right to hide out under the covers and seek sanctuary from the real world in dreams now too fuzzy to remember.
There's another thunder banger overhead and it's starting to sound pretty damn intense so the details of my shopping trip with Bren will have to wait until the morning.
(SIGH)
Too bad there's not a man here to cuddle with ... It's always nicer to ride out a storm in the safety of someones arms.
Girl on the Go
Had a fun night about town. Decided early on in the day that I was going to have a little family fun and take KC, along with my niece, nephew and added bonus of sister and stepmother to the movies to see Shrek 2.
Newsflash people. It's a sequel worth seeing.
Yet another thunderstorm brewing overhead ... I wonder if I'm too olf to play in the rain.
Ah Darn it All
Much too late to even think about retyping it now.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
The Taste of Rain
No reason to worry about the lightning cutting across the sky in brilliant flashes of white, or the sound of thunder booming and building again in a slow moving crescendo, like the steady roll of a timpani drum.
When the rain came down in torrents, I'd dash outside in excitement, my arms open wide to embrace the sky with joy. And I'd dance. Finding every puddle that could be found, my feet sinking deep into the grass, down into the mud.
I remember the taste of rain, the way it felt as it clung to the tips of my eyelashes, holding on for a moment and then like tears waiting to be shed, letting go to fall softly against my cheeks. Unlike tears, the rain was always sweet against my tongue.
Sit, Speak, Shake
Taking a moment to refill her dish with cold refreshing water, I stood there debating on whether or not I wanted to try her for a walk, as KC pounded away at the piano in the sunroom.
As far as I was concerned, it was a win-win situation. The dog would benefit from the exercise and human interaction, and KC and I would feel a little safer when walking the nature trail near the house. Despite the fact that Sadie is far from being Cujo, I am quite convinced that a woman with a dog looks far more formidable than one who walks without. I did however come to some conclusions.
Though snapping on the leash was quite easy, walking with an untrained, undisciplined dog was not. After 5 minutes, I was quite convinced that Sadie was in desperate need of some basic doggy training. Ie: How to heel ...
Sticking her nose into every shrub, tree and bush, the dog was intent on dragging me behind her as I urged KC to keep up. Perhaps, I thought to myself, I was asking too much on day one. Maybe what the dog really needed was some love and attention before trying to turn her into woman's best friend.
So we turned around, and headed out to the back yard. Sitting in the grass, we watched as Sadie rolled around on her stomach, tail wagging with glee as we patted and praised her. Something about the way the dog looked at me, just about broke my heart. Her puppy dog eyes shone bright with joy, as if she was saying, "Yes! Someone thinks I'm special!" And I was tempted to bring her home ... Except for two reasons, (1) Emma (the resident black cat) would be none too happy and (2) Dogs are much harder to hide from the landlord than cats. (So much for good intentions.)
Chaining her back up for the night, I refilled the water dish again, scooped some food out into her bowl and promised to come back and see her in the morning.
"Small steps Sadie," I said to the dog. "We'll try again tomorrow and see what happens."
A Heartache Tonight
If you could get here tonight
Why is it the moment you have a spare moment, your mind wants to think about all the things that make you sad and weepy inside.
I opened a book earlier and tried to read, but I could barely turn a page. Instead I sat there staring off into space, wondering what Sean was doing and whether or not he'd made it safely back home from dropping off the kids.
Not your concern anymore Stacey, I reminded myself. What Sean does or doesn't do, doesn't involve you anymore. Soon you won't even think about him, or remember the feel of his arms around you. You won't remember the wonderful things he used to say, like how cute you looked in the morning with your hair every which way to Sunday or how smart he thought you were. You're left only with the words he said last, words and actions that left you no choice but to walk away and say goodbye.
Sunday Morning Confessional
It's freezing here this morning, even more so since I left the kitchen window open last night. The back deck is wet with rain and even the poor birds visiting my feeder appear to be cold this morning, shivering in the breeze. Perhaps this will not be the day after all to get the garden closer to being done.
Dad and Bec left early this morning on their way to Baltimore for Audrey's graduation. I had promised I would go, but as usual Aud's lack of communication changed my mind.
There are times when I wonder how she seems to survive so well without the support of her sisters. I talk to Amy at least two to three times a week, catch Jodi on an instant message every other week or so, but when it comes to Audrey, lack any form of communication with her until she stops by home on one of her fly by night visits.
So I can't imagine how it will be this fall when she leaves for graduate school is San Francisco. It's hard to keep in touch with someone who seems to avoid any form of contact altogether.
In other news, my mother sent me a blast from the past picture in the mail of myself as a child. If I had any clue about how to post a photo on here I would. But for now a simple description will have to suffice. Naked, save for yellow terry cloth shorts, a green superhero cape and a non-matching Indian head dress with a vast array of different colored feathers, I am riding a kick-and-go (an older version of today's modern scooter) with a look of absolute enjoyment on my face. This is the note my mother sent me ...
Stace ~
Found this Friday in Jerry & Audrey's attic - must have been karma - it was in the first drawer I opened. Notice the wide shout of delight, the flamboyant dress. This is the spirit that lives within you. Let her fly!!!
Love,
YM
Sometimes my Mother knows exactly what to say, exactly when I need to hear it. Thanks Mom ...
Act 2, Scene 1
But there we sat like gently bred ladies taking tea and discussed everything from the weather to astrology. She told me she had always wanted to be a dancer herself and was glad KC seemed to be enjoying taking her lessons.
"She must get that from me," she said. "When I was young, I used to tell my mother I wanted to be a dancer. But I married young," she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed, "And well, that didn't get me too far."
I nodded my head in agreement, tempted to remind her I was well aware of the damage young, ignorant love could do. "Yeah. I seem to remember your son choosing the door when KC turned 4 months old, to go shack up with his slut," I wanted to say, but bit my tongue, smiling my I can't wait until this thing is over smile.
Dimming, the house lights turned off and on to hasten the crowd to their seats as I glanced nervously around the room, scanning for any sign of KC's Dad. "Not tonight," I mouthed into the darkness, a silent prayer on my lips that he wouldn't be late, wouldn't miss a night so important to our daughter. But as the show began, he still had yet to take his seat.
If I had any nails to bite, I'm sure they would have been bitten off. It was hard to relax and enjoy the show without knowing whether or not he was there, knowing that KC's happiness could be shattered in that single second when she looked out into the crowd and saw the empty spot where a familiar face should be. I willed him to get there.
And get here he finally did, though too late for me to be very happy with his arrival. But it wasn't my feelings that mattered, all that mattered was making KC happy.
Perhaps I will finish this story tomorrow, as for now my eyes are closing of their own will and soon I will be very fast asleep ...
Center Stage
Unfortunately, KC has no choice but to go with me this morning, as I didn't even bother to ask my father how he was feeling about quality grandparent time with his granddaughter after last nights dance recital went on for over three hours in a very hot auditorium. (Yes Mom ... I took lots of pictures. And yes, you will eventually get copies. I'm thinking one hour photo tomorrow.)
Besides the stifling heat and the threat of a thunderstorm which necessitated the instructions that should the power go off, we were all to remain calmly in our seats until we could be escorted out, the recital was - as far as recitals can go - wonderfully thought out. Surprising since I haven't been all that impressed with the disorganization of the dance studio itself all season.
The assortment of colorful costumes, the talent of the children and the enthusiasm they exhibited, were enough to convince me that the drudgery of running KC here and there two times a week for lessons are worth continuing. A realization the selfish me who hates having to run around half of creation after a long day at work would rather have not come to.
But there it is. When you're a parent, you do things for the benefit of your children, rather than the benefit of yourself. (Even though you were rooting for soccer or some sort of musical aptitude to follow in your footsteps.)
Still, I'm quite proud of KC. She did great and didn't falter to nervousness or fall off the stage. Both which had me beaming from my seat.
But I must be off. Another long day ahead of us and another recital for her acro class tonight.
Do Not Disturb
Sweet dreams until tomorrow. This is NWTLO signing off.
Is That A Mouse In Your Pocket?
I remember that there were four of us all nestled in the back room of my grandfather's camp, zipped up tight in our sleeping bags attempting to sleep, though the noise from behind the door spoke of the good times our parents were still having.
As for me, I remember being more concerned about the mice. I'd seen their droppings earlier in the day and wasn't exactly thrilled with the premise of sharing my living space with them, imagining instead the horrible disgustingness of mouse fur and whiskers against my bare skin and the bloodcurdling scream I would yell when and if the little demons managed to chew their way into my bag.
Cousin Danny was in the far corner, his bag away from the door, while my older sister Amy was on the other side of Brian who was lying between us both. While Danny kept to himself, Amy and Brian were busy whispering in what I was sure was some diabolical plot against me, as the two often joined forced to make my life miserable. (Like the time Amy stuffed freshly mowed grass down my throat just because it was there and she was trying to impress Brian ... Brian however got the surprise of his life when I tackled him to the ground and gave him a bit of the same treatment until one of the adults finally pried me off him, howling and kicking like a little mad woman.)
Shucking the warmth of his sleeping bag, Brian made a big production of stretching as he lurched to his feet.
"You girls ever see a real penis before?" he asked, standing there in his tidy whities, his hands confident at his sides.
Amy and I both shook our heads no from our collective sleeping bags.
"Make you a deal," Brian said. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine."
Cousin Danny moved from his corner of the room, his newly deepening voice breaking into the conversation. "If anyone shows anyone anything, they won't have anything to show ever again," he said, in a burst of protectiveness, before returning to his world of isolated silence.
Brian sat back down dejected, deciding not to take the chance of irritating a boy much older and stronger than himself. But I could tell he wasn't completely sold on giving up the idea.
The rustling of his sleeping bag should have been a warming for me to close my eyes, instead my eyes tried to focus harder through the dark, moonlit room. Raising his covers just enough, he grinned as he gave me a flash of everything that was going on down there. In any case, I couldn't suppress the "eeew" that came flying out of my mouth. A mistake on my part as cousin Danny was on him in a flash.
"What did I tell you about showing my cousins things they don't need to see," he yelled, flipping Brian and his bag across the room.
"I was just having a little fun," Brian laughed, although it was one of those please don't beat the tar out of me nervous kind of laughs.
But Danny wasn't having it.
"You can sleep over on this side of the room for the rest of the night," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor very far away from us.
Brian reluctantly dragged the remainder of his things to his little island of exile, as Amy sniggered beneath her blankets.
As for me, I was glad for one thing. It had taken my mind off the mice.
Dancing in Circles
Silly, silly me. Holding on to the chance that he would call or email, to toe test the water and see how I was. I guess I'm not as good as some when it comes to dealing with an ending. It's more like me to dwell and hang on, then let go and forget.
I can't imagine though how he couldn't miss me, even if it were only a little. After five months, you would think - ok so I would think - that I would have stirred up some sort of feelings in the man. And yet, I'm slowly coming to the realization that losing me hardly caused him to blink an eye. And now I find, in addition to my heart, it's my ego thats gone down the drain.
So I've been throwing myself into projects around the house. Two nights in a row now, KC and I have worked the garden, yanking out various weeds, turning the soil and setting in a new line of cast iron fencing that, though imposing, will hardly keep the bunnies at bay.
I also finished the book I bought over the weekend at Barnes and Noble, my typical haunting ground of I must spend money to make myself feel better. It was a rather depressing read, the main character being a female who just lost her husband to cancer and through subsequent chapters learns how to moderate her grief. I'm not sure I feel much better after reading it, although it does make my complaints seem paltry at best.
Now that the house is quiet, KC to bed and the tele thankfully turned off, I think I will seek out the other book I bought and immerse myself in somebody else's life until I fall asleep exhausted.
Positive Feedback
I'm begging, aren't I?
Disconnected
I miss waiting underneath the blankets, unwinding slow from a long day, as the phone chirps to life by my side, waiting three short rings before I answer, so as not to seem too eager.
I remind myself that soon I will get used to this too. The phone not ringing. The quiet returning to my evening hours.
And I have to wonder, what it is I miss more, the sound of the phone or the sound of his voice?
Now Testing ...
The freedom to blog at anytime, anywhere. Even while eating strawberry banana yogurt during my lunch hour.
I'm thinking this could be dangerous.
The start of a whole new era ... A blogging goddess era, unencumbered by the usual constraints of 8 to 5. How will I ever get any work done now?
(Ooooh ... Kid in a candy store, it works! Now what happened to the comment feature? Ah crike!)
Happy Mom's Day
Happy Mother's Day!
Top 5 Reasons It's Good To Be Single (Again)
5. You don't have to pretend that every word he says is interesting, when he says the same things over and over again.
4. You don't have to waste your entire weekend waiting to see if he'll call, only to be disappointed by his lack of manners.
3. You can laugh with your friends at just how pathetic you were while you were oh so crazy in love - or like ... whichever the case may be.
2. You can stay out all night, have a good time, sleep in on a Sunday morning, wake up with a hangover and still be in a good mood. (Who cares if you kissed every man in the bar last night.)
1. You're not bothered by a little bit of hair on your legs. So their not silky and smooth, shaving on a daily basis is for the birds.
Top 2 Reasons Why It Sucks To Be Single (Again)
2. Starting over at square one, finding someone new, putting in the time to get to know them and be comfortable with them.
1. Even in the most necessary break ups, knowing that it may take more than a few days for your heart to feel anything more than bruised and battered.
Coming To An End
For the past five months, I've been trying to convince myself that being with someone, was much better than being alone. And for the past five months, I've been pretty close to being absolutely miserable.
From the start there was a wall that couldn't be broached. Sean's personal issues were like monsters let out of a closet, and always a matter of conversation. I understood, if only from my own experience, how hard it was to move on ahead with your life when everything you thought you knew had come crashing down around you. I tried to be supportive, without always dispensing advice, believing that living through the pain was the only way to learn that you could make it on your own.
I tried to remember how I reacted to the pain, and remembered a hollow shell girl who couldn't sleep at night, let alone breathe. The girl who retired from the world for over a year, until finally one day there was light again, and laughter. He just needs time, I kept telling myself, he hasn't even made it a full year yet, give him some room. Although he would probably say different - though in my world he has ceased having a right to say anthing - he was not one who could handle stress well. During these times he tended to cave in, pushing me away to the outer recesses of his life until he could handle having me around again. Through the months it became a pattern, one really good weekend followed by two that were really bad.
But still I hung on. Not wanting to be a failure at yet another relationship and not wanting to be alone without hope of ever finding love. Still, if I were being honest, I knew months ago that this relationship didn't stand a chance. No relationship can survive only having one person in it and quite frankly, he wasn't there, at least never with me.
He was good at making promises, making plans he never intended to go through with. Maybe he thought this would make me happy, or maybe it was just intended to get me to shut up for a while. I tried to be understanding, giving him the benefit of the doubt that life could really be that stressful and he needed time out to himself. And then I remembered who I was, a single full time working Mom, head of household and dance class transportation, who could always be counted on in a pinch by anyone in need. The kind of person who could always make time for those important to her. And hell, if I could do it and knew it could be done then it only came down to one thing. I wasn't important enough for him to make time.
So why keep me around I thought? What was I to him in his life that he wanted me around, when in truth he didn't want me around at all. Because I was convenient, like a puppet on a string waiting for him to put me in motion? So he could have sex when and if he wanted it? Because I refused to give myself any credit and kept coming back for more? I don't know, and I didn't really get an answer this morning when I was talking to him on the phone, as he was trying to give me his usual "I'm busy" brush off.
Fuck your being busy was all I thought as he listed his to do list for the day, suddenly realizing that I didn't have to beg for his attention, I didn't even want it. Inside I wanted to tell him what an asshole he was, that he was a selfish prig and to borrow a word from Bridget Jone's Diary, an emotional fuckwit. If there is one thing all men out there should learn, it's that you don't mess with the heart of a single mother!
He tried telling me he was going to call me later, and then tried telling me he hadn't read the email I had sent him last night, even though I knew he had read it, as I had requested a return receipt for the message. I couldn't fathom the reason for the lie, just as I knew his propensity for not knowing how to work a phone would be the reason for his not calling later.
I saw myself in my minds eye, wasting a whole Saturday sitting by my phone waiting for his call and my groveling for his affection was done. In that single second, I realized that I had had enough of the games, of the bullshit, of the outright lying and the questionable purple trojan wrapper I had discovered the week previous on his bedroom floor. My faith and trust in this man was already shot, there was no denying the inevitable anymore.
I tried to pull my thoughts together, requesting a moment of his time as he was eager to end the call. I think of you as a friend he said, I don't feel the same way about you as you feel about me. I couldn't say I was shocked to hear this, since I had already suspected as much. (Although his defintion of friend is sorely lacking, as I wouldn't even treat my worst enemy the way he has treated me.)
So I told him enough.
I had had enough, and wasn't signing up for the next ship out to sea to chance the tides. Instead - blog notwithstanding - I went out like a lady, telling him I would miss him, but could see no other choice than to say goodbye.
But as I hung up the phone, it was the damndest thing, I was more happy than sad.
Time & Consideration
If memory serves me right, I believe this quote comes from one of my favorite movies, The Truth About Cats and Dogs. Except today, it's disappointment rather than rejection, or maybe even a little bit of both, that will be showing its face today.
Have you ever known right at the beginning of your day that it's not going to go the way you want it to? You keep your fingers crossed, and say a prayer that it will all work itself out in the end, even as you're already sure you'll find yourself sitting home alone on a Friday night.
And you'll feel miserable, and you'll feel like no excuse will ever do when you're the one who keeps getting shoved around everybody else's schedule and no one gives a damn about yours. And you'll wonder what it's all worth, leaving your self and your heart open and vulnerable for the one man who can make you happy one second and miserable the next. And even though you want to have faith in him, you realize the track record isn't good, you've been cancelled so many times, you've stopped asking him questions, because you're tired of hearing the word no.
Still you're hoping he won't let you down tonight. That little flame of hope that lingers, waiting to spark. Anything to stop the tears you've already started to cry, when things begin to feel distant and cold. So you send him a message, hoping it will get through to him, that you're standing on the edge waiting for him to pull you back, rather than allowing you to go over alone.
When the Lights Go Out
As if I have any control ...
What I did succeed in doing however was stressing myself out, which made me a prime candidate last night for nightmareville. I woke up this morning, a bit cloudy but remembering the premise of the dream, which happened to involve people cutting through my bedroom walls and tearing their brains out.
I'm going to guess that symbolically speaking I was trying to tell myself that there's not much use in overthinking a thing. Of course, that won't stop me from worrying ... I am what I am. And I'm the fixer of the family, always have been, always will be, the little girl who tries to keep the peace.
Ach ... I should be getting ready for work. I'd rather stay here and write all day but duty calls.
Until sooner or later ... Though one should always hope for sooner rather than later. This is Stacey, signing off.
To Do List
One must think positive to be positive. And so tonight, I have decided that the first "to do" is just to get the downstairs looking presentable, which means breaking out the dusting cloth, the vacuum cleaner and putting some of the standing clutter out to pasture. Or at least hide it really well somewhere where she won't look.
All things are possible with a little elbow grease and an impending visit to motivate you into action.
For now I'm off to work. Oh happy Monday ...
Iiiieeee
Mom's on her way.
And the house is a mess with only 2 days to clean. And I'm out of advil, suffering alone with a killer migraine watching extremely bad tv at the lowest volume possible. And KC's been complaining all day and now ... Now I've got to perk up, get with the progam and get my house up to Mom standards.
Sane? I think not.
The Get to Going
The walls feel small tonight. As if they're closing in, despite my vain attempts to fight for space. It's not often that being home seems wrong, and yet tonight, a million miles away doesn't seem quite far enough. Perhaps there are just other places I wish myself to be.
And going to sleep seems like such a waste of time, with all these thoughts racing around my head demanding action. I am like the parachuter quite unready but willing to jump all the same. Perhaps all we ever really need is just a starting shove ...
Colin and Hugh
If real life could only resemble the movies ... (I am ever the sucker for British flicks.)