First kisses are GOOD....

'nuff said.

First date with Bill...GOOD...

A good date. Talked for nearly five hours: ate dinner, saw Christmas lights, showed each other our favorite kids books at a Barnes and Noble (or was it Borders?) and slurped coffee and hot cocoa at Steak-n-Shake. He emailed me this morning and said he is looking forward to a second date soon. Me too.

And...my friend David. I was thinking 33 is too young. I'm thinking now, maybe not. Maybe I'm holding Brad's moral flaws against all the younger guys out there. I really like spending time with David - we can talk for hours. He's seems pretty mature to me.

And...well, I didn't think I was a butt girl. But I've been, ah, noticing male rumps lately, clad in khaki's, jeans, whatever. It seems, ah, that they're all good. Maybe it's just a thirties thing.

Dating is FUN!

I'm having a great time! This past weekend I went out with Dan on Saturday night, we went to Dave & Buster's (my first time there.) Had a good meal, fun teasing conversation, and played some games (I was the trivia queen for at least three rounds) and there was some touching going on...a hand on the shoulder here, legs pressed together there...who knows, he might even go for a kiss next date! He's 6'4", so not sure how easy that will be...I don't think I've ever kissed someone that tall.

I'm getting ready to meet Bill, a good match from the sounds of it. We're both musicians, playing the same kind of music, both attend non-denominational churches. And he's a HUNK. He's even taller, 6'5". Is God trying to tell me to wear heels? Yikes.

I've been talking to a couple guys, as well. One of them, David, is going to attend service at my church this coming Sunday. I really enjoy talking with him, he's a very funny guy. But a little young, I think. Still, good to have a friend.

And who knows with Gary. I'd love to fit him in! Holding hands was extremely nice on our date, and the thought of kissing him has crossed my mind a couple (hundred) times....

None of these "dates" are anywhere NEAR serious, though... so that doesn't make me a player, does it? I don't want to be a player, I just don't want to say "ok, you're the one" before I know a guy really well. And I want to take time to get to know a guy really well. So why should I sit at home when I'm not with a guy before I get to know him really well, huh?

I'm not a player! I'm not! (Hear that John? Heh, is the 30th a "date" for us? HMMM? You know, you were the only boyfriend I had that I never kissed...ok, not really, we'll say you were the only guy I was really into that I never kissed. Unless you count Shaun Cassidy. It's not too late, Shaun!)

What I woke up to this morning:

We had quite the ice storm rumble through our region last night and this morning...power was out for about 19 hours and so was our phone...good enough excuse to pile on the blankets and take a nap!

It's official today!

I am now a divorced woman.

God help us all.

Hussy?

I had a lunch date today. That's two dates with two different men in one week. Does that make me a hussy? I've never dated more than one person at a time, so this is a brand new experience for me. I don't think it will be like the old time movies/books where two different men ask the lady to marry them, and she has to decide: I think that if you're that serious, you should be dating only ONE. But at the beginning, when you're just getting to know each other, is there anything wrong with more than one casual date at a time?

Onto breaking news: I'm going to the lawyer with Brad tomorrow to sign the papers in front of their notary public! Then, all my lawyer does is take the papers to the judge, the judge signs off, and it's official: I'll be divorced. And needing to pay a lot for health insurance, so somebody give me a job! :)

I'll end up missing my computer art studio class to do this tomorrow, but it's worth it. Let's get this OVER WITH.

And my daughter has decided we need to stretch together in the morning, right when we wake up. Since I tried doing the splits, and got pretty close, it has become her mission to get me flat on the floor. Me, I'd rather just snuggle with her for five minutes in my bed, but heh, quality time is quality time, whatever you're doing. Go, rah. Sis and a boom and a bah.

B.H.H.S.

I had a date last night. A date gone very well. Although it was a first date, it was more than a coffee and "so, what do you do?" kind of date, because we had logged in some serious phone hours previous. Besides the obvious looking VERY forward to date numero dos, my other thoughts on the date:

BIG. HUGE. HONKIN'. SIGH.

I'm lazy: this is stolen from an email to a friend...

My jury reporting date for the United States District Court has been cancelled! They will notify me if I will be needed to serve for any of the remainder of my jury reporting term. They thank me for my willingness (???) to serve on the United States District Court Jury. They ask me to press "1" to hear these instructions again.

Which means...I don't have to have any absences from school, and pay more in childcare than I'd get paid by the U.S.D.C.

Still...serving on an OJ'ish type jury...coulda been a moneymaker. :)

Wish me luck!

Well, I have a, not exactly a job interview, but one of those staffing services interview thing-a-majobs, where they time my ten key and see if I can type backwards and other such essentials. Loads o' fun. They seemed confidant they could work around my school time, and my kids time. I've already turned down a job that would have had me working 4-8pm Mon. - Thurs. I'd never see my kids that way. I'm confidant God will work this out for me, as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other. He's taken such good care of me and the kids, how could I not trust in Him?
Besides, since the job is simply to pay for health insurance for me...I'd rather be insurance-less than be married another minute. And again, God will take care of me, insurance or not. But I'm aiming for the insurance. :)

Hmm....not much to say.

So.... there.

One "WANT" down...

Barlow Girl was in concert at my church last night, so Katie and I went and jammed with HOLLY and two of her kids. So, one of my "I want to"'s got fullfilled; Holly and I got to see Barlow Girl in concert together. Rock on.

Silver and Gold

I've come back into contact with two friends of my youth; what a blessing from God. First there was John, a good friend from highschool, and just in the past couple of days I've found Ken, a friend from Cincinnati Bible College. I think Ken was one of the people I was most comfortable with.

Ken and I invented the "Blue Daruschnia", which he just reminded me of. I believe it is blueberry schnapps and orange juice. Which we were too young to be consuming. But we were rebelling against the too tight parental-like controls of our college. I made myself throw it up; I didn't like the feeling of being tipsy.

If I remember correctly, he does a mean Robert Plant.

Ken, I'm glad I found you!

The Single Mingle

Well, I guess I have my first official "date?" tomorrow afternoon. Just coffee. Just chatting. But it's a date, I think. I think.
And did I scream that I got A's for my midterm grades?
I LOVE graphic design. Sunday, I will go to a thing at school to determine my future. No big deal. :)

Happy Birthday to me....

and maaaaannnnny more....

My annual fall trip

I have to go every year. My bones cry out for a view of the River Road in full autumnal bloom. My legs itch to climb the hill towards the stone and wood guts of an old cabin. I did it, and it was beautiful. As it is every year. I LOVE this season.

The Kev Awards

On the way to school this morning, I heard Gloria Gayner's "I Will Survive." Which made me think of Kevin Kline's moving dance performance in "In & Out." Which made me think of the fact that Kevin Kline is one of my favorite actors, which then led me to think of other favorite actors of mine: Kevin Spacey and Kevin Pollack. Which made me go "huh."

stupid blogger wouldn't let me post 2 pics in one post!

Olie likes the Honda, too!

The wheels on my Honda go round and round...

...and round and round! The dying, transmission blown, can't go over 25 at times (sometimes can't even get up that high) ol' minivan is no more. At least, no more being driven. By me. Cause I got me a new (to me) Honda crv! It's so cute! And God worked, I mean, HE WORKED, in this transaction.

I saw what I thought to be a good car on Autotrader.com. 100,000 miles, Edmunds said for what they were asking it was a good deal. So, I asked a friend from church, Jim, to go out with me to look/get it. Jim is a really nice guy, but if he wants to he can be army scary, which is what I wanted to get the best price. As it would be, he was able to go in the middle of his work day that particular day (called him on the spot.)

When we got out there, guess what, oops, it's not 100,000 miles but 136, 000 miles! BIG difference. And, no, that "check engine" light doesn't mean anything, it just needs an oil change. RI-IIIIGHT. So, anyway, just to make sure, Jim calls up his best friend Steve who is a Honda mechanic and Steve says to run, run far away from that car. Jim says "Heh, aren't you selling a car?"

And there we are. Except one big thing: Steve's car was on sale for TWICE the money I had. See, Brad is taking his time, not paying my lawyer, saying he's not gotten the papers, etc, so my separation isn't legal yet. Which means I DON'T HAVE PROOF OF INCOME, so I can't get a loan on my own yet. So, I ONLY had the money from my student loan and couldn't get any more.

So, ends up, Steve had a co-worker of a relative ask to buy the Honda by making payments, and he said no. He bought it from the dealership (a trade-in for a newer Honda) and put all new everything in it for a friend's daughter going off to college, and then the friend's daughter changed her mind. So here he was, stuck.

And God moved. Because Steve agreed to take my money, and wait till January when I get my second half of my student loan for the rest of it.

Thank you God! Thank you Jim! Thank you Steve and Laura! I now have reliable transportation, more reliable than I could have afforded. God moves in the COOLEST ways!

Fall, Fall, Glorious Fall!

I can feel it in the air, in my hair, a whisper of a breeze puts the ache in my knees...

Ok, no poet am I, but my favorite season of all is approaching, is nearly here....AUTUMN!!!!!!!!
It's not just the leaves. People love the leaves, the "colors." Me too. But it's the wistfulness, the melancholic ACHE of fall that I love.

I always think back to a fall day when I was in seventh or eighth grade. I had just gotten some new clothes, and that beautiful fall feeling was in me, and in the air, and I went outside in my new jeans, my new burgundy corduroy blazer with a pink oxford underneath, and my matching new burgundy shoes. I found the wind, faced into it, and sang (I think, maybe it's just this song I think of when I remember the memory) "Never stopping with her head against the wind" from Flashdance's 'Maniac.'

Stop laughing. It was a meaningful moment for me.

And now, my first autumn in quite a while without Brad. I was, am, feeling great without Brad. And I wasn't/am not LOOKING for someone. I've got enough going on without that. But something about the cool air, the nip, the bite, the early darkfall....it makes me long for that shoulder, that strong arm. Fall is about highschool football games wrapped up in a blanket with someone warm, a blanket that you keep picking up because you keep leaping and cheering for a team - any team. Fall is about slow kisses on the living room floor, backs against a loveseat, a blazing fire warming your feet (with help from the kisses.) For those of you married, do you remember kisses that didn't lead to sex? No, not kisses that didn't lead to WANTING sex, those are some poor kisses, my friend. No, I mean the kisses that stretched for hours and left you aching, but whole, and wanting more but not going there. Those were GOOOOOOD kisses. Somehow, the abundance and availability of marital sex turned kisses into something more akin to fast food, rather than the tortuous gourmet delicacy they once were.

This fall, I'm missing the kissing.

Holly is about to call me in a fit. I love you Hols, for worrying about me. I just said I was MISSING it, Mom, ok?!!?

So.
1. I'm missing the kissing.
2. Helping Katie with karate at her class, I found I was a lot more flexible than I thought - and more so than many of the orange belt ladies in there! Touch my toes? HA! I can palm the floor, baby!
3. I can still do cartwheels!

As FFH sings, "It's a good day." It REALLY is.

Taking care of business

I used our weedeater today. I had thought it didn't work; that thought might have been put there by the ex, not sure, doesn't matter, cause it does work and I used it today. When the string broke, I called a friend and asked if I could run by his house and show it to him so he could SHOW ME how to get the lid thing off so I could change the string, which he did. I then proceeded to get the rest of that clingy stringy yellow greeny thingy which grows over the curb. The string broke a few times, and I fixed it everytime. My hands ache right now, but it's a GOOD ACHE, as I'm doing MORE than my husband wouldn't do! I"m taking care of this yard, while taking care of the kids, while going to school. I can do it. I'm enjoying it. Yeah, you might be thinking "just wait till you've had to use that weedeater a few more times, you won't be enjoying it." Maybe not. But I'll enjoy not enjoying it. Cause I'm doing it. Besides, I like mowing the lawn. Something about making the lines, it is satisfying. Probably the same reason why I like folding laundry (especially towels, I LOVE folding towels!) It brings about order. A sense of peace. Balance. Organization, ah, what it can do for the mind.

Ok, so I'm weird. You all knew that already.

Reading, writing, and RENDERING?

I did a big ol' rendering tonight for my homework. It's not really rendering cause you render till you die, but that's the official name. You take a photocopy of what you are rendering, trace over it, then put the tracing paper under your marker paper and with greyscale markers you RENDER BABY, RENDER! I was scared to death of the first rendering, which was a simple tin can shape with light shining on it. Then we moved on to a helmet, already traced for us, then we took an ad out of a magazine and rendered it, then this assignment: Bring in five different items to render. I thought she would pick three or something, but that we would do them separately. Nope. We grouped them together, shot a picture, printed it out, traced it and rendered. And here is my finished rendering. I'm happy with everything but the omelet pan, I just couldn't get the depth. The items are an omelet pan, an apple sitting on a mini paper cutter with it's blade raised and resting on the apple, a double square punch, and a bottle of perfume (Alexander Julian "Womenswear.") I like. I never thought I could do this. School rocks.

Spilling my brains

I can't stay asleep. Maybe it's I choose not to stay asleep. Whatever, whichever, I wake up, needing to go to the bathroom, but then afterwards istay up for a half or or so. I have started turning off the computer before I go to bed, because I would come out and play solitare, even though I was falling asleep while doing it. So, then after starting the turning off of the computer, I began to turn on my bedside lamp and read, even though I was falling asleep during reading. For two nights, I refused to read, made myself just lay back down. For two nights, I have had big huge honkin' dream loops.

Have you ever had dream loops? Where, basically, you keep following the same path, be it through a house or building, or through a town, or both, and slightly different things can happen along the path, but you keep taking the path, hoping that at the end THIS TIME, you will wake up. OH YES, you know you're sleeping, but that doesn't mean that the water is any less cold or the rocks under your feet any less sharp.

Tonight, I started on a loop in highschool, a frequent bad dream, where I find out I didn't graduate, or even if I did, I need better grades, and have to go back. I was a boy, angry and rebellious, and not much more is remembered except trying tokeep the principal from seeing me and cutting through a place with a long, lovely curvy wurvy ramp that I kept jumping over the railing through to the next place in the curve rather than walking it. Then all of a sudden I was the babysitter for my daughter's friend Zoe, and we'd walk the length of her house until getting to the end, when I would exit, only to end up at the beginning again. Then, thelast loop, I was SURE I was awake and it was real. I even cursed "Oh shit, this is real!" For some reason, Zoe had been put to bed and I was petting a dog or a monkey, not sure which, in just my bra and panties, and then I realized it was real and I couldn't believe I would take off my clothes at someone's home, and I ran distraught through their home, looking for my shirt and shorts, and finally found them, and slipped out of the house and started running along a road, hoping that no one would drive up and rape me. I ran up to and tried to pass a young teenage couple, and got tangled in the hood the man was wearing, it ended up being both my cape and his hood, and I let him have it and continued to run. Then the dream turned into a path as a small child, where I would run along a bridge of squares, toward the corner and JUMP into the lake, and would swim with powerful arms toward the other side of the shore. Sometimes I could never get to the other side, sometimes there would be sharks in the water. One time, I decided to dive for the bottom and it was lovely, pristine sand, no water life or debris, and I wrote with my finger "Ali....loves.....brad....or john?" John is going to read this and freak out even more and change his cell number. John, you said "It's only hair." I'm saying "It's only a dream." ok, on we go....

Then I stand up and walk under water toward the shore, where I see the undersides of a dock, and then I see King Kong angrily splashing around and I hit the bottom, scared he'll see me, and I think he does as he starts to come to my side, so I roll under the dock, and he gets angry and starts jumping and throwing things and I lay perfectly still except I can not keep my big toe on my right side from jittering. Then this short man who kind of looks like Georeg Castanza comes over and points me out to Kong, and I'mhissing at him to stop, when I realize he has placed six hooks on my pants, and is aiming to yank me out from under the dock. I frantically start taking them off, and then take off running for the other side of shore. There I find characters from movies/tv shows that I can't remember right now, and I send one of them to go fight Kong. Jin from "Lost" is there on stilts, and he's married to some lady from my church, but he isn't happy. Then I start the new loop, walking through this big building, where the same lady glares at me as i have to walk over her shoes and purse and three ashtrays piled on three"breakfast in bed" little tables, until on one of the loops as she glares at me, I come back and give her what for, telling her that if she doesn'tlike me doing that then move her damned shoes and purse and cigs off the floor path and out of the way. Another small smoking woman who also glares is a few feet away, and I turn on her angrily and say "You hear that?" and she moves her stuff out of the way, too. And I continue along the path, through strange rooms with giant ferns, through a bar where Chuck is playing pool with some friends and I think "I thought he was supposed to be working" and think he should tell Holly if he doesn't have to work, maybe she would want to spend some time with him or go grocery shopping, then I continue and walk behind either Brad Pitt (who I have never cared for) or Sawyer, it's one of them, and they turn to Chuck and tell him they have an interview set up for him, then he gives me a page of lyrics and says that he'd like me to change the lyrics he has to sing for the new Rocky movie to something a little less "wordy", and I say "Like, 'Sarah....Sarah....'" (to the tune of the sarah song, but with rocky-like pronunciation) and Chuck, not really amused but kindly pretending to be, says yeah. Then I go into the same room where I keep seeing the same people, and this time I stop and say "Wait, we all want to wake up, right? Let's try quitting. We'll just quit. Say, 'we quit.'" Then I grab the hand next to me and open my mouth to say I quit and I wake up.

And feel the need to spill it. The little details have already gone hazy, gone away. How many times I went through the loop I don't know. I hate the loop dreams.

I feel guilty, for enjoying my "singleness." No, not dating, not gonna, but being free of the lies and constant constant questioning of just WHAT IS THE TRUTH?

And now I really need to go back to sleep. After one game of solitare. :) or :(

I'm liking the new me

I LOVE SCHOOL! It rocks, I really love going back, and I seem to be actually doing pretty well. I am improving my art skills, which I didn't think I had any.

I went to a PTA meeting tonight. I've always been a card carrying member, but this is the first time I've gone to a meeting, and I contributed, and offered some services, and it felt good. Getting involved.

I went outside my comfort zone in volunteering to welcome visitors and lead them to where they need to go in my church. I am the quiet shy one when it comes to new people. Brad always introduced himself and I, I just nodded. Now I'm going to be walking with new folks for five minutes or so, taking them and their kids to the classrooms, etc. WAYYYY outside my comfort zone. It feels good.

I am sooooo looking forward to playing volleyball tomorrow night! So so so so so you can't know how so I am looking forward to it. And the next day, I signed up for a 12 hour crop, without a cropping buddy! I"m going there ALONE. I mean, THAT is not me, either. To go to an event alone. I still have never gone to see a movie alone. That just, well, feels wrong. This is a first for me. I guess another first.

I've got disk 3 and 4 of LOST: Season 2 in my hot little hands, and disk 5 and 6 are being mailed to me as we speak. I'm not taking a chance on not being caught up by the start of season 3.

I'm dealing. I'm feeling good. I'm in a size 10 jeans!

Confidence a go-go!

School again. Hard to believe that at 36, I'm back in college. With eighteen year olds. Busty, perky-boobed eighteen year olds. I finished my homework yesterday afternoon, and felt good. The prof had said to practice writing the roman alphabet style at least once, I did it three times, and could see improvement from one sheet to the next. My lines even got straighter; maybe I can draw a straight line to save my life!!!

My thighs are getting a good workout as well, with all the uphill power walking at the college. I like it, I feel good. And the fact that the last three pair of pants I've put on at home didn't fit any more (they were way too loose) makes for a wonderful feeling, too! Except it doesn't feel good to my pocket; I've dropped two sizes since the beginning of summer, so I'mma gonna needa new pants. Who knew that I would be burdened by shopping?!

I haven't done this in so long.....

but in just a few days, I'm going back to school. Despite devilish obstacles every turn I made, I've made it through the process and will be getting my books and starting class on Monday. Scared to death, but that's ok.

And they're OFF!

To school, that is. I can't believe it's not even fully halfway through August, and my kids have started school. Katie is a second grader, and Olie begins Kindergarten. As of this writing at 9ish in the morn, he isn't off yet; he attends kindergarten in the afternoon, but still. Man, where did the summer go? And next week, if all the roadblocks that have been thrown in front of me get taken care of, I'll be starting school as well. If I don't, I'll be crying, then looking for the next road.

I'm not used to being the sole decision maker; man, it's hard. There's so many things I have to decide, it's overwhelming, but mainly because I make it so. That perfectionist "can't make a mistake" thing rearing it's ugly head. My van is dying, so I need to make the decision: put $1200 - $2400 that I don't have into it to fix the transmission when it's got 143,000 miles on it, or sell it for $500 and get a cheap, small car? Decided on the car.

School or work? Like I said, roadblock after roadblock keep getting thrown in my face for school, but without the skills, I'll be stuck working for low wages and never getting anywhere. I want, I deserve, to have a job I'm HAPPY at and enjoy doing and feel like I'm contributing to the community, not just answering a phone.

Trip to Michigan or not? The date is perfect, Sept. 14-17 should be beautiful fall colors there, the kids are out of school so they can stay here with their dad, I really want to see my friends Robert, Tara and John, but it's $250 round trip (driving would be almost as much with the cost of gas.) I really want to get away, have a weekend of serenity (my kids being with their dad for the weekend is not serenity, that's boredom in my ol' house. I need the outdoors, good friends, cool breezes, crisp crackle of leaves and smoky scent of a fire warming up the night. I need to get away from ME. But, I also need to be financially responsible. $250 is a lot right now.

As Superchic[k] says "I've got some growing up to do."

I'm B-AAAAAA-CK!

Hopefully this time for good. First there was the power outage, then I had to get my computer scanned to see if there was anything illegal on it from the ex. Now, I have my world back. Boy, I sure did miss email and google.

Is it just me...?

Or has "kids' entertainment" gone too far?

If you have young, impressionable minds in your home, then please don't see:
"Faerie Tale Theatre"The Tale of the Frog Prince (1982) with Robin Williams. (IMDB didn't have a pic, sorry.)
**Three or four "damn"s.
**The frog calls the princess "bitchy."
**The frog asks to sleep with the princess, then gets flustered and makes many gestures,
saying "not THAT kind of sleep with you" which can make kids like mine turn around and
say "what does he mean, mommy?"
**The frog is checking out the princess as she gets undressed for bed, makes a comment about
her legs or something, and she calls him a "horny toad."
**And, last but not least, the site of a nearly (only a small red handkerchief covering the
genitals) naked Robin Williams. A scary site indeed for any adult movie, let alone a child's
faerie tale.

I mean, come on. I don't consider myself overly protective, but would any of YOU let your five and seven year old watch this???

Songs that take me back...

At a garage sale a month or so ago, before Brad moved out, he found a Violent Femmes cd and bought it. Blister in the Sun. Man, does that take me back to high school, to Speech Team. And that takes me back to Eric, who, with his pink (or was it orange) hair and outlandish clothes, told me once that I was "on the right track, but you still need to be more different." Wait, Eric. How are you any different than the popular crowd, whom you despise, when you are dressing and styling yourself just to be as different from "them" as you can be?

In "Walden II" the guy in charge of the Utopia is trying to make a point about free will to a couple of observers. He says to one, who is holding a cup, "I can make you keep holding that cup." Immediately, the man puts the cup down with a smug look on his face. And the leader says "Ah, but I just now MADE you put it down. Would you have put it down except to prove me wrong?" And the man is stuck, not knowing what to do, without giving control to the Untopian leader.

Which brings me to another person and another song. The person is John K. He was on speech team , also. And from the earliest I can remember, John was never influenced by what the popular crowd was doing, or what the unpopular crowd was not doing in order to be as different from the popular crowd as possible. He didn't give a damn about who they were or wanted him to be when it came to who he knew himself to be. In fact, he gave so little a damn that he wouldn't have wasted the breath to say he didn't give a damn. (Although....I am keeping the "Miami Vice" school picture in case I can blackmail him one day. Teal t-shirt, sparkling white blazer, oh yeah...) He was/is the truest person I know. And one of the songs that remind me of him is "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes. I'm not sure why; I kinda think it might have been playing when we "danced" (that awkward sway thing) at a jr. high dance.

Kirsten, "The Way You Do the Things You Do" makes me think of you, prancing in the dorm hallway singing that song. If I can say this without sounding like a lesbian, you're one of the most adorable people I know!

How about you three or four out there? :) Comment, comment, comment! What songs bring you back?

Ah, the wonder of Electricity!

Thank you Amren UE! After 6 days, 13 hours, and 35 minutes, we now have our power back!

This was my first, HURDLE, if you will, all by myself without Brad. And I felt I failed. I didn't take care of myself and almost passed out last Friday, I had a meltdown right after that, and I couldn't handle getting all the stinky spoiled food out of my deep freeze and freezer/refridgerator by myself (I had to ask a friend for help.) Yeah, I know, it's not failing, but it feels like it.

My friend John warned me it was a roller coaster. I wish he meant the kiddie ones. Cause this is far worse than any roller coaster I've ever ridden. I'm not sure it's safe for passengers.

It sucks. But life with Brad and ALWAYS questioning whether what he was saying was a lie or not..., well, that sucked more. This hurts, it hurts so bad I wish I could cut out my heart, but at least there's no ANXIETY. No nervous wondering, wondering. And I'm sleeping better. So, there you go.

But it still sucks.

My God gives me strength...

through mysterious ways. 

Telling the kids

We told them we are separating tonight. For a while, at least, due to my medical problems (looking like a form of epilepsy that can be controlled with medicine) I NEED his group insurance, else it would become a "pre-existing condition." The kids were slain, and though I still love him and wish so much that it didn't have to come to this, for a few moments I hated him. Watching the tears stream down my childrens' faces and knowing that we, his family, were not important enough for him to fight his addiction, and to fight his lying, and seeing the result.... I hated him then.

My daughter asked if we still loved each other. While I was saying, yes I did still love Daddy, I heard nothing from his side. I offered to let him take some of the pictures crowding our fireplace mantle, he declined. Why did I let my image of myself become so wrapped up in him. At near the height of my weight (figure that one out...) I believed I not only was beautiful, but sexy, as well. All because my husband desired me, I believed that. I believed I was funny and worthy and a good person, all because my husband believed that. I didn't care if the whole world hated me and thought me ugly, as long as Brad loved me and wanted me, I was SPECIAL.

And then to find the mounting evidence of cheating. Of lying. Of his corrupted sense of morality. I crashed.

And now? Now I weigh less than I did going off to college, and men give me second glances, and try to flirt, and I couldn't care less because the ONE I wanted to love me doesn't. Or at least doesn't enough. Which amounts to the same thing.

See what I mean about unmeshing?

In the paper, there was a short article about the record 132 million taken in by "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest". The article was titled "Shiver me timbers!" And I IMMEDIATELY thought of the Buffy episode where Anya (an ex vengeance demon who lacks human tact) tells Dawn (Buffy's fake but now real sister who was used by monks to hide the very energy of life) that Xander (One of the original scooby gang, wacky, sexy in a goofy way, and my fave, oh, and Anya's boyfriend) who is going as a pirate for halloween, is going to teach her a new game later called "Shiver Me Timbers." Dawn, being young and innocent, questions what that is and someone whisks her away to less sexual conversations. Later in the episode, Dawn gets her first kiss (ironically from a vampire, who is so into her that he wants to turn her) and she mumbles, "shiver me timbers." I SOOOOOOO wanted to save this little article, to show to Brad. He would get it. It's one of our things. How do you unmesh "Shiver me timbers?"

Goodbye nighties

I was in the store with Katie and Olie, and saw a great nightie. You know the kind, moms can wear them without fear of warping their kids, but daddies give them a wholehearted "Heh, how YOU doin?" It was black with an explosion of incredibly rich, colorful flowers, spaghetti strap, just a couple inches above the knee. And I thought "Brad would love me in this," and then remembered.

How do you unmesh lives? I read a description once, of different ways of starting dreadlocks. NO matter how they were started, there was only one way of getting rid of them: cut them off, leaving one with an inch or so of hair.

I feel like that. It's not simply a matter of who gets what, when, or where. It's losing the person that loves to watch "Buffy: The Musical" yet again with you. Losing the one person who would go crazy for the cheap Aldi's con queso I'm eating right now cause it's so similiar to the con queso at the wonderful, but in a bad part of town, Mexican restaurant we go to when we're feeling dangerous. Losing the guy that can quote "The Fugitive" anytime, anywhere. Probably in two other languages, as well. Losing the man who lets me put my feet inbetween his calves when I'm cold.

It sucks. Big time.

Happy Independence Day!

Katie's and my "Tootsie Tradition."

I'm gonna be ok

Still don't know the cause of the myoclonus, but it's liveable. And I can make it without my husband. Right? RIGHT?

Short and sooooo not sweet

I'm filing for divorce. After almost twelve years of his lies and sex addiction, I've come to a large brick wall with only one door in it: OUT. I know now that there is nothing I can do to make him get help for his addiction. And there is certainly nothing I can do to make him tell the truth to me, his accountability partners, or his therapist. I mean, if you're lying to your therapist, do you really WANT to get better?

For those of you who want to jump in and say "But there's got to be SOMETHING we (and you really mean ME don't you?) can do!" - we've tried it. Intensive one-on-one eight hours a day for three days counseling. SA groups. Accountability groups. Therapy. Therapy number two. Partial hospitilazation for six hours a day, five days a week, for near six weeks. No truth for me, no sex for you. Sleep on the couch. In the basement. Separated. Three different times.

For those of you mentioned above, get this: HE, and only he, can make the decision to really get help and fight for his family. And time and time again, he has not.

You want to say I have no biblical reason for divorce: I do. A she and a he. Besides all the TEEN PORN, there was flesh with flesh with a she and a he.

I need support, not guilt. I'm over my co-dependency, now get over yours! I can do nothing, you can do nothing, your husband can do nothing, the ministers can do nothing; NOBODY BUT BRAD CAN DECIDE WHAT IS WORTH FIGHTING FOR. And, now it's too late.

I'm not saying God can't work a miracle and send me an angel with a sparkling post it note saying "You are now authorized to trust your ex-husband." But otherwise, it's over period. Because he's a GOOOOOOD liar. He makes up details, little things like "He knew where Homer was and even worked at the pizza place there!" He's completely believable, until I start praying "God, show me what I need to know" and then God makes him stupid, and he leaves evidence out in plain site. In a way, it's funny, the look on his face clearly saying "How could I have left that out????" and I know: God made you stupid. It was time for me to know. My God took care of me. Anyway, the only way to begin to trust someone with those kinds of lying powers is to begin to enmesh my life with his, and the only way I'll do that is through marriage, and the only way I'd marry him again is to know he's trustworthy, and the only way to trust him is to begin to enmesh...well, you get the idea. It's over.

I will miss my best friend. But I don't even know if who I think is my best friend is real.

I need support, not condemnation. I've been thinking about this and talking it over with a counselor for over a year. Waiting. For the lie I knew, I KNEW would come. Again. So don't say "think about this." I have. Don't say "God forgives you, shouldn't you..." God let's us suffer our consequences, ESPECIALLY when there is no REPENTANCE. It's not about forgiveness. It's about trust. I will miss who I thought was my best friend. People, I'm losing my best friend, my lover, my husband. Please don't have me lose you too.

-Ali

Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo! Who's your daddy?!

BRAD HAS A JOB!! He's going to be working with Ceridian, a company he's worked with through many of his other jobs in payroll and hr. Just now he'll be on the other end. There might be some travel, but it seems it would be more local. He can work 4 ten hour days and get three day weekends every week if he wants, and insurance starts the day he starts, which is July 10. So he's still got some more time at home to get some little jobs done, like painting our bedroom, doing some long needed weeding, and whatever else I can think up for him! And...he'll be getting paid 10% more than his last job. What will be tough is his job being located so close to the Greek deli we love.... :)

My MRIs came back showing mild degenerative disk disease, just a fancy name for growing old a little too young. :) Since I had part of a disk cut out when I was a senior in high school, I've always known that I'd eventually have to have a vertebre fusion. Looks like that time may be here. But, looking all over the internet and googleland, I found no instances of DDD and chorea being hooked up. So, I'm thinking that's not what's causing the twitching, which really needs to be taken care of so I can drive my kids around again, what with Brad getting a job and all! But I see the doc on Wednesday, so we'll see.

Separately, my children seem perfect. They obey me almost always, have sweet manners, lilting voices, gentle hugs and kisses. But put them together and BOOM! I think I've done pretty well as a parent, but I just can't figure this one out, how to get them to GET ALONG. I mean, they do, they play together, but one little disagreement sends them off. And boy, do they love to push each other's buttons! I don't know what to do besides tie them up and pour tuna juice all over them. (Mad About You reference.) I didn't go through this because my sister was born when I was about ten. So I was more mom to her, especially in her early grade school years when I really was mom, the only one there during her waking hours, all weekend every weekend, while my own mother sowed some oats she had been saving up. So the relationship between my sister and I was very different than this FIGHTING FIGHTING FIGHTING. What to do, people, what to do?

Tomorrow could be the day...

Well, I go in for my double MRI tomorrow, on my spine at my neck juncture and my lower back, to see if that is the cause of my twitching. The electrocution (where they zap your nerves at different points and at different FREQUENCIES) and the "pokin' at ya, pokin' at ya" (where they put the long needle into your muscles and have you then move those muscles so they can record through the needle what it looks like) showed that my muscles are moving when they shouldn't be. "Whew" I thought, "I'm not crazy, it was really happening." Does anyone else feel like that? That if you have more than one medical issue at a time that you're scared to go to the doctor for both issues cause you're just sure he'll think you are a hypochrondriac? So you end up not going and it gets worse? Ok, just me? Maybe I am a bit nuts, then. What's the medical definition of someone who always thinks they are a hypochondriac?

So, anyway, my muscles are in constant motion, sometimes moving enough that my joint moves along with them. Which could be the cause of the insomnia, the utter exhaustion. Which would mean that I didn't need this depression med I was put on cause another doc thought the insomnia and lack of energy (and being anxious, which can happen when you can't control your muscles and your hubby is out of work) equaled depression, but the drug he gave me can cause big time dizziness, which I also have. So, tomorrow's MRI sessions could reveal the one source of four issues! Whoo-hoo! The fact that my leftover disk has been slowly deterioating since my back surgery when I was 18 might mean this is all cause of two things bumping each other that shouldn't. So, I get a fake disk put in and I'm good to go! YES!

So, some prayers would be appreciated. This has been going on since October, and I'm ready to get some real sleep and to rest, really rest, without looking like a marionette whose strings are in the hands of evil five year olds.

Not pox, can you believe it?

So says my kids' pediatrician, who I love dearly. And speaking of doctors....

May I say, if you live in the St. Louis area, you couldn't find a better primary doc than Dr. Mark Pelikan? I love this man. I originally went looking for a new primary doc because I couldn't stand the staff of the one I was using; they would never update our insurance, even when I stood over them, and then they'd try to make us pay extra for their mistake! Twice! So, anyway, I set up an appointment with some other guy who was in the same building as my ob/gyn and my kids' pediatrician. When I got there, I was informed that he was serving over in Iraq, and Dr. Pelikan was taking his cases. Well, Dr. Pelikan ended up being so great that when the Iraq guy got back and Dr. Pelikan went back to his own practice, I followed right behind.

You know how doctors get annoyed when you pull a Columbo "one last thing"? How they stop with their hands on the doorknob to discuss it with you? NOT DR. PELIKAN. He sits down, makes eye contact, and LISTENS to you. And when you go in six months later for something completely different, he remembers (or actually reads your file ahead of time, equally unheard of in that business) what you were in for before and asks how you're doing. And, best of all...get this! When he ordered some blood work to be done, as the first step in trying to figure out why I was having chorea, he called me AFTER HOURS to discuss the tests results and to determine our next step. AFTER HOURS. When I mentioned that was a little odd for a modern doc to do, he explained that when he had phone calls to make, he waited till the office was closed so he could dedicate as much time as needed to speaking to the patient, without having to hurry because there was someone waiting in room 2! Is this man great or what?

And, best of all, when I came in quite a few months since my last visit, just to get a simple test done, he passed me in the hall, stopped, turned around and said "I almost didn't recognize you, you look great!" (referring to my weight loss since my last visit.) I coulda kissed him. But that would not be above reproach, so I didn't, just said thanks.

So, anyway, Dr. Pelikan is a rare breed; a doctor who CARES about his patients. You could do no better than to have him as your primary doctor.

Why did the chicken cross 70?

To give my daughter the pox at Teddy Bear Camp!!!

We were looking forward to going on the zip line into the lake after lunch, when I noticed the pus filling spots on her neck. I asked Dave, a friend who was with his son at T.B. camp, if he thought it looked like poison ivy. Who knows, we decided, and I put the thought away. Until we changed into our bathing suits. Then I saw the spots all over her back, tummy, and even under the panty line. I knew my daughter hadn't been running naked in the foliage, so it must be....AH, NO. I took her to the nurse, who said Katie had to be quarantined from the rest of the campers, and that we'd have to arrange another ride home other than the church van we took to get to camp. I left Katie crying in the nurses room while I went to call Brad and get our stuff. The nurse gave Katie her jungle hat. I gave her a Payday candy bar. And we took a nap on the dayglo orange couch in the staff tv/game room.

So....tomorrow I take Katie to the doc to make it official, and then we'llhave to call all the friends who were coming to Katie and Olie's combined birthday party this coming Saturday. At least she feels fine, and I've yet to find a pock on her face. When I got the pox, they hit my face like a storm; in my throat and mouth, ten on my bottom lip alone. When I got back to school (this was in my sophomore or junior year, I can't remember which) I got called pizza face, was told I looked like I got into an axe fight and I didn't have an axe, and my favorite: "Heh Ali, can I play connect the dots on YOUR FACE?"

So, my dear darling daughter, be glad you're getting them now. It could be far worse.

This chocolate or that chocolate....

At the last minute, a research group paid me $50 for Katie and I to taste and rate two different chocolate milks. Cool. And much to my surprise and delight, my friend Dorothy was taste testing the milks also! Tomorrow Katie and I are going to a "Junie B. Jones" thing at the local Barnes and Noble, and next weekend: TEDDY BEAR CAMP!

Last year, Teddy Bear Camp, (which is an introduction for kindergarten and first grade students to camp, with their parent, for one night and two days,) was blisteringly hot, as in 105 degrees hot! The pool water was, for some reason, a murky green (the lake water was clearer!) but you didn't care, it was so hot you just jumped in. Hopefully this year it won't be so hot.

Next year Daddy gets to take Olie to Teddy Bear Camp. They're growing up, despite my strict instructions to the contrary.

Is it too much to ask?

What I Want:

I want to see Boston in the fall.
I want to have my hair in hundreds of tiny little braids, just once.
I want to go on a girly-girl trip with my daughter to a spa.
I want to give Joss Whedon a bear hug.
I want to take a self-defense course.
I want to own every single season of "Little House on the Prairie" on DVD.
I want to go on a tornado chasing vacation.
I want to own all of Robert Sabuda's works.
I want to see the ocean from the cliffs of wherever...cliffs and ocean make a great pair.
I want to see Barlow Girl in concert with Holly.
I want to be cherished.
I want to shake Jick's hand and say "It was fun, dude."
I want my children to know and honor Jesus in their lives.
I want to see the movie version of Dean Koontz's "Intensity."
I want to see "Lo Mein" made into a movie, starring, of course, Bruce Willis.
I want to meet Madeleine L'Engle just to say "Thank you."
I want to study harmony for one hour under the Indigo Girls.
I want to take a mid-summer nap in a real hammock slung between two shady trees.
I want to learn to knit. (I tried the "How to...Dummies" book...sheesh, I'm a dumber dummy!)
I want to.... keep some wants private.

Can I pass out now?

I'm bone tired. Brad had surgery this past Wednesday, and just came home about two hours ago. Sleeping at the hospital, then driving home near midnight because I forgot Katie had an awards ceremony on Thursday, so the babysitter who was GOING to spend the night with the kids didn't, and we had to wake them up so I could take her home. I did get a good seven hours sleep Wednesday night, though, which I wouldn't have gotten sleeping on the hard hospital chairs. Wednesday, it was up, no time for shower, good thing the hospital is so freezing that I didn't sweat yesterday, wake up Olie, no really, you gotta get up, put something nice on, get Katie to school, go and help set up for the ceremony, get a seat and WAIT, take pictures of Katie, take pictures of Joseph because his mom couldn't be there and I know she scrapbooks, pictures of Carol for her mom, close-ups of Beth because Amy's digital died and she only had a non-zoomer, walk Katie back to class and speed away in the van to pick up the babysitter, drop her and Olie off and change clothes to accommodate the freezing hospital, zoom off there, get half a protein bar in me, grab a ruby red grapefruit juice in the cafeteria, hide it since Brad can only have ice, spend all day in the chair, some walking Brad around the loop, gotta go take the babysitter home, take the kids to see Brad, thank goodness for McDonalds on the way, WAIT MOMMY, MY BEAR'S SHIRT IS GONE! going back down the corridor till we found the bear's karate shirt, visit Brad, take the kids out of the room so he can try to go pee pee for the nurses, ten minutes later he still can't so I take the kids home, stopping at the grocery store for strawberries, bananas, and treats to celebrate Katie's summer birthday with her class (spend more more more time than my nerves could handle looking at labels to make sure there is no chocolate, lactose, and have not been in a ten mile radius of equipment used to process peanut), stuff them in bed, Katie has a breakdown which takes almost an hour to handle, I grab some Colby cheese, go through emails, check my friend John's blog which is still not updated, email him about strawberry pie, and hit the bed running, after downing my sleeping pill. Up this morning at sevenish, run a bath, promptly fall back asleep in bath until near eight thirty, have to wash Katie's hair, get myself dressed and tell Katie more than once that I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WEAR, IT'S THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL! and somehow get her to school one full minute before the bell rings at 8:45. Off again to grab the babysitter, off to the hospital, grab my ruby red grapefruit juice, walk with Brad, sit down and promptly fall asleep in the hard chair, holly calls me, my phone plays "Take on Me" by A-Ha, can't get it in time, don't know how to get my messages, good thing I know Hol's number by heart, walk three loops with Brad, watch him try to eat jello and drink isopure, heh he's going home, carry two bags around my neck, one bag in right hand, stack of books and juice in left hand, and he barks out "PILLOW", nodding to his pillow that it seems he thinks I should carry (WHERE? WITH WHAT EXTRA BODY PART?) and that he can't place on his lap for the wheelchair ride home, almost strangle him, make it out to the hot van, thank you to the two teenagers in the elevator who let me go first, crank the air, go and sit and wait for Brad, take him home, trying to go easy on the bumps, get him in bed, start cleaning up the house, take babysitter home, drop off prescription, get home, clean, there's Dorothy at the door with chicken Parmesan and spaghetti, hot from the oven, and hot buttered french bread, thank God for Dorothy, rip into the dinner since I last ate sometime last night, kids love the bread, and blog for a few minutes before going to pick up prescriptions.
And so, can I pass out now? Just for a few millennia.

CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

Life's been a changin' for me. After almost seven years of staying at home, I'm signed up to be a college student in the fall. I always thought that music was the pathway I'd choose for a career, but am finding myself in love with photography and design (I still sing, though. Loudly. Boisterously.) And today, for the first time in more years than I can remember, I wore white pants.

That's right, friends, white pants. I've lost a fair amount of weight in the past year, and I actually, finally, felt comfortable wearing "color me bigger" WHITE. In fact, this morning at church, I was in the ladies room washing my hands, and as I turned to grab a towel, I glanced in the mirror and thought [WARNING: PLEASE DO NOT BE OFFENDED AT MY HONESTY, MY FRIENDS, BUT THAT IS WHAT THIS BLOG IS FOR AND THIS IS WHAT REALLY WENT THROUGH MY MIND- SLIGHTLY INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE TO FOLLOW:] "Damn, my butt looks GOOD." Call me a potty mouth. Call me egotistical. Just call me Ms. White Pants.

For so many years, I've been scared of change. But if I can wear white pants, I can do anything. With God's help I will. A young graduating lady sang this morning "Brave":
"Cause it's been fear that ties me down to everything
But it's been love, Your love, that cuts the strings
So long status quo
I think I just let go
You make me want to be brave
The way it always was
Is no longer good enough
You make me want to be brave
Brave, brave"

Those words reverberated in my head. "fear that ties me down to everything." And it has been. Scared to go back to college, even though I was a Dean's list student back when I was in college last. Scared to follow my passion and try something new. Scared to EVERYTHING.

But I can. I can FAIL, and yet not fall. I can succeed, and still change my mind. He's gonna be there, and He's promised his plans are for me to prosper, not bring me to harm. God makes me want to be brave. (So, ok, maybe the white pants weren't God's idea, but I'm tellin' ya, I haven't liked the look of my butt in a pair of pants in a long, long while.)

I do want to be brave. And Chris's message this morning, starting off talking about the choices and decisions God leaves up to us to make - that struck me, too. Because that's where I've been so scared. WHAT IF I MAKE THE WRONG DECISION? I want to be brave. And a good part of that is trusting God that IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT, even if I *do* make a wrong decision. That it's a part of learning, a part of developing wisdom, to mess up. To choose unwisely. And to think a little differently, a little more wiser, next time.

I'm looking at some tough decisions that I may be facing in the future. And I'm trusting that He'll give me the tools to be brave. In fact, I believe He already has given those tools. And I count you, my friends, among them. Thank you for listening, for making me laugh, keeping me in line, and letting me begin to reclaim ME. The loud, boisterous, singing fool with a camera in her hands. And her bottom in white pants.

Botanical Beauties!

Had a wonderful time at the Missouri Botanical Gardens yesterday. My camera, however, did not record much of the wonderful time, because after being plugged in for over a week, it only had 26 minutes of charged time. How long do lithium batteries last, anyone? We've had this camera for around five years, and lately, it just does not charge very well at ALL.
Anyway, I did get a couple pictures I liked:

MOTHER'S DAY: the Sequel

I am blessed. Beyond measure.

Yesterday morning, I was dozing, lazily, in bed while the kids were watching PBS and Brad was off to an interview. "Just a few more minutes, then I'll get up and get them ready for school." Yeah, we've all thought that, and TWENTY minutes later, I'm woken up by:
"Good morning Mommy! We made you breakfast!"

Perched on my bed are my two sweet darlings, pajamma clad, with an "All Star Sports" breakfast tray (Olie bought it at a garage sale with his own money) sandwiched between them. On the tray is a bowl of romaine lettuce, with "Goldfish" brand pretzels sprinkled in (that came from Olie's snack at church the day before), a piece of bread folded over an enormous chunk of swiss cheese, Thousand Island salad dressing, and a full glass of Kool-Aid.

My children had worked together, had COOPERATED, on a project of love for me. Now, THAT'S a perfect Mom's day present.

As I type this, my two darlings are preparing a breakfast for their father. They're trying to decide which dressing he'll like. And they've combined the rest of the hot cocoa I made them this morning into a cup for him. With a few marshmallows.

Father's Day came early this year in the Kibler household. Here's to those that make it special, to those that make us Mothers and Fathers. There should be a "Darling Daughter's Day" and "Stupendous Son's Day". Here here!

A 150ft. drop for Mother's Day!

It was quite a Mother's Day for me this year! My son planted and even started to grow a mini-rose plant for me, and my daughter, in Sunday School, insisted on making all her "handprint flowers" green, against the teacher's advice to make them more colorful, because she knows green is my favorite color. And at dinner, she saved the last bite of her pickle for me. My kids love me. In spite of me. Another reason to thank God each morning.
So... Six Flags had a special "bring a friend free" Mother's Day thing going today, but for some reason, all our kids' friends' families thought spending Mother's Day in drizzly 50 degree weather outside for six hours wouldn't be fun, so no one took us up on our offer. Too bad, poo poo on you. Cause we had a BLAST! We bundled up in layers, took our gloves and mittens (I even wore my earmuffs. So I looked like a dork. My ears were toasty) and literally walked right onto every ride we wanted. I think Katie and I waited for maybe four or five minutes to ride THE BOSS, that was the only ride with a wait.
While we were on the Boss, we saw the new Superman Tower of Power (a straight drop of 230 feet, I believe) operating, and Katie begged to go on it. My girl is crazy. So we found Dad and Olie (Olie doesn't like the fast and high rides) and went to see Katie and Daddy fall to their near deaths. BUT, it wasn't really open. They had only been doing test rides for the official opening this Friday. Katie was crushed, but then she and Dad rode the screaming eagle and we did the bumper cars (Olie and I slammed them so many times, Brad is walking bent over.) And then we went out for a Mom's dinner at Ozzie's. Olie was hoping Ozzie Smith would really be there, but I think he only came when his son Nikko was on American Idol. Still, Olie was impressed with the stories and pictures of Oz's backflips.
It was a GREAT Mother's Day. The best thing: both my kids still wanting to hold my hand walking through the park. Sigh. Big, big SIGH.
Here's a pic of Olie and Bugs Bunny riding the Tazmanian Twister.

School's OUT? for the summer?

Is this supposed to be a sign? Seems the FAFSA we filled out was for the 06-07 year, and classes offered in the summer are for the 05-06 year, so there will be no financial aid if I take classes this summer. The aid is quite a lot, more than enough to pay for the tuition and books, so I can't really justify spending money on classes when Brad is still unemployed. Besides, because the summer schedule is so light on classes (they combine all the 1's and 2's, and leave most stand alones out of the schedule till fall) to get my 6 hours in that I need to qualify for aid, I would need to take a GREAT class on macro photography, that I desperately want to take, but that requires a macro lens, which my current camera can't support, so I would need to upgrade to the Rebel SLR that I've been dreaming of, which is $760, and the lens is another $400. Now, aid can count for supplies, but....that's a lot of dough when Brad is out of a job. So, maybe this is God's way of saying hold off till fall. Or, just maybe, stuff happens.

In other news, "Up on the Roof" is playing in our house, as in Brad has SHINGLES. I thought shingles were in line with scurvy, but apparently not. You see, the virus that causes chickenpox never goes away, it settles into your spinal cord and WAITS. And sometimes, when your immune system is down, due to old age or STRESS (as in "I need a job" stress) the virus wakes up and causes shingles. They are very very painful sets of blisters that occur on only one side of your body. Brad's erupted on his face and lymph nodes. In the middle of the night last Thursday, he drove himself to the ER where they diagnosed him. Ever seen that episode of "Friends" where Ross has something weird on his bottom, and the doctors all crowd around to see it? Yep, that's what happened. The ER doc called in the nurses and residents to show them what Shingles looked like, and they "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over Brad's poor red, embarrassed face. He's still in much pain, but being a trooper and trying to get on; he even mowed the grass yesterday while the kids and I were at church (he didn't want to take a chance and possibly give chickenpox to someone at church, which you can do when you have shingles.) My guy.

ZZZZZ...ZZZZZZ...ZZZZZ

I slept! YES! For those of you who don't know (I wasn't trying to keep anything from anybody, I just got tired of having to tell the story..you just get tired of hearing your voice again and again...) and those of you who do know (which are the people I see every week and therefore they could see the growing dark circles under my eyes) I've been having problems sleeping since October '05. At first the doctor prescribed Rozerem, which did NOTHING. Then he gave me Ambien CR, which is supposed to be one of the best sleeping pills out there. At first, it worked, letting me sleep 4 hours straight, and then after being up for a 1/2 hour or so, I could go back to sleep for 2-3 hours. But sometime in February, it stopped working. I would sleep for an hour, two hours tops, then wake up for an hour, then sleep for another hour, wake for an hour, etc. Don't rag on me, cause Holly and my doc already did, but I even tried taking two, once three of them, and it still didn't work. Ambien would put me right to sleep (I could sense it coming on, when my clothes in my closet doubled, I knew I'd soon be alseep) but once awake, I would do things that I didn't always remember. After Holly called to see if I was alright one day, because I had sent her a strange email at 2:30 in the morning, full of goobly gock and that I had signed "Lid" I decided to stop taking the medicine.

Then my doc tried Lunesta. No workie. Still waking after an hour or so. So, Tuesday I talked to him on the phone (which will be another blog, I've got the best doc!) and he decided to up the "class" of controlled sleep aids, whatever that means. He gave me Restoril. And REST I did! I slept for four hours, woke, did the bathroom thang, and went RIGHT BACK TO SLEEP until morning. Last night, same thing! I'm already a new person! I have some energy back! I don't look so racoonish now! Whoo-hoo!

So, for those of you who were offering prayers for me, I thank you. We still need to eventually get me sleeping without any aid, but just the fact that I'm sleeping fills me with euphoria.

And, don your shiny red shoes, grab the scarecrow's arm (carefully, he's just made of straw you know) and sing with me: "I'mmmmmmm off to see the neurologist, the wonderful Dr. Turpin." My bloodwork came back fine, more than fine actually, so now it's up to Dr. Turpin to find out why I'm having the uncontrollable twitches. Again, for those who don't know, for the past few months, when I'm sitting or laying, basically at rest and not moving, my muscles/limbs will jerk every few minutes, out of my control. Once, we had friends over for dinner, and my leg kicked out and hit the table so hard one of the guests yelped in surprise. Yes, really, he yelped. It's gotten worse in the last couple weeks, even occuring a few times while driving, so I went again to the doc. He doesn't believe it has anything to do with the sleep problem. It's not painful, just annoying and embarrasing (if you saw me get up in the middle of church a couple weeks ago, that's why, I admit it's shallow but I was embarrassed at my shoulder jerking up and down..) I go the first week of June.

And, that's what's new with me. Brownies is over for the school year, we're probably gonna have Katie miss school tomorrow so we can all go to Six Flags, yeah yeah, one day won't kill her, and Brad had his third interview with Edward Jones last week....fingers crossed everyone!

Pants on Fire

"Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies"
"Lie to me, I promise I'll believe."
"Girl don't lie, just to save my feelings Girl don't cry, and tell me nothing's wrong Girl don't try to make up phony reasons I'd rather leave than never believe"

I hate being lied to. Hate hate hate hate hate. Being lied to. The best act of friendship ever to me was when my friend Kirsten told me that she had noticed that I wasn't treating my husband with enough respect. And she was right, and I changed. She cared more about me than her comfort level.

When I was 11, my mother gave me 300 stuffed Avon books and told me to deliver them to the homes in the park where we lived. I was miffed; I wasn't being paid, it was summer, this was HER JOB. So, I went to the park pool (even though you had to be 12 to swim alone) and swam for a long time. Then I started delivering the books. Sometime after dark, my dad found me and drove me the rest of the way. Sodden with guilt I remained for two whole years, until I could not take one more minute of keeping the truth from my mother, and I confessed what I had done that day. And do you know what? She grounded me for two weeks! Two years later!

Want to ruin our friendship? Lie to me. I can't stand it. There's someone in my life that has spent the last 13 years lying to me. This person has had major problems, but I've stuck by them. Helped them get help. Where do you draw the line? I have tried being so co-dependent about it; I've said "Now if you lie to me off the cuff, then you can email me, or write me a letter, call me, leave a post-it but just tell me and I won't hold you accountable." But they continued to lie. And always got caught. I've learned: Just ask God to show you what you need to know, and He will. And He has. This person, after getting caught once again, said "I think you've been praying too much."

Recently, this person went for serious help with their lying problem. They went into a half day program, for five weeks, where they were diagnosed with generalized anxiety, obsessive/compulsive, and even some narcissism. They worked on perfectionism, and was constantly "exposed" to situations that made them anxious, in order to learn that it's ok to be anxious, it's ok to not be perfect, it's ok to get in trouble, but it's NOT OK TO LIE.

So, this friend seems to be slipping back into some pre-program ways. And, truthfully (what other way), I'm waiting for the lie. I've been told by some people that "Jesus forgave you, you should forgive them." Forgiveness and TRUST are not the same thing. I've forgiven this person, I don't keep hate and bitterness (well, most days) around to chew on, but I do not trust them. How long will it be till I can begin to trust? Will it ever? Some of my friends think I'm pessimistic, that I should be "hopeful." That hurts. When my friend has gone lie-free even half the amount of time that they spent lying to me, then we'll talk hopeful.

Don't lie to me. I'd rather be hurt, I'd rather be mad (and get over it, I get over being mad pretty quickly), I'd rather be bodyslammed into cement than lied to.

A Day in the Life...

This is my second try at blogging. The first was under the direction of a good friend from college; it seemed a bit out of my control, so I stopped using it. But I like the idea of a place where I can "dump" my thoughts, where I can talk when I need to, whether or not someone is listening. And have a history of such talks.

And heh, if you don't like the name? Comment and give me a better one. Who knows, I might use your suggestion, and then you get a prize. I'm not saying it'll be a great prize, but it'll be something. Maybe those popping bubble packaging things. Those are always fun for a few minutes.