Sunk down in a house, in a town : Day Thirteen

Day 13 – This week

I am generally a very outwardly optimistic person. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt (at least once, if not more) the majority of the time. This week has been a test of my character.

My coworker and very good friend, T, has been out three full days, and only worked a few hours the last couple of days. Normally this isn't a big deal, especially if it's a planned absence, but unplanned has left my department scrambling trying to fill in the void left by her absence. Unfortunately, I end up being the one scrambling, and I end up being the one filling the void.

It's annoying, and frustrating, and as of today, the best description of the emotion I was feeling was resentment. I HATE being resentful. I especially hate feeling that way about a friend who has had little to no control over the cards that have been handed to her over this last week.

I have also been having some very strong feelings regarding my breakup with B. There are things I feel like I need to say and haven't been given the chance. I have also been able to come to the conclusion that I am better off without him, but that doesn't make the hurt any less. He alluded this last weekend that he found fault in the fact that I'm too independent. That I didn't REALLY need him (which truth be told, I don't.) I don't want to walk through life needing a man (or any person) to depend on. I've worked really hard over the last eight years to support myself not only financially, but emotionally as well. I think it's a huge flaw in his character that he found fault in me being able to do that.

I feel as though I'm not doing enough with my diet, or exercise to make much of a difference. Of course most of this is due to the fact that I'm extremely unsettled with other aspects of my life, and when I start thinking about it, it always reverts back to my weight. I'm trying to remedy that.

Aiden is spending the weekend (and next) with his father and his family. I'm looking forward to the alone time, however, it is the first length of time that I'll have been alone since the break up. Luckily I have really awesome friends and have filled most of the hours with plans.

I need to take a deep breath, and go to bed early. Tomorrow is Friday, the best day of the week!

Nothing could be worse than numb : Day Twelve

I want to apologize for not writing yesterday. Its a struggle to actually write anything today, but since the topic is so simple, I think I will be able to make it through. I'm exhausted, physically, emotionally, mentally. It's only Wednesday, too. Hopefully I will indulge more on that in the coming weeks.

Day 12 – What’s in your bag

Lucky for all of you, I actually cleaned out by bag a couple of days ago! I normally have a few toys, wrappers, and tons of loose change, but it's pretty organized right now.

Wallet : this has my one and only credit card with a $500 dollar limit. They credit company keeps trying to up my limit every couple of months, and every couple of months I call them and have them move it back down. My debit card, Aiden's library card, my driver's license. About $43 dollars in cash, a buck something in change. I have most of my Hanson concert tickets, along with a few other band's concert tickets, Blue October, The Frey, Counting Crows.

Book : I'm currently reading Eat, Pray, Love. I'm about half way done, and it's fantastic. I've been carrying it with me so I can read it whenever I have a chance, which is something I haven't done with a book in a long time.

My iPod, along with two sets of ear-buds. I carry this with me since i go to the gym most days right after I get off work. I also carry my handy dandy tank top that helps support my boobs while working out. (being well endowed in the chest does have a few disadvantages.) I have several of these tank tops and I put a new one in every time I use it.

About 4 different types of lip stuff. I have a cocoa butter chap-stick, a medicated chap-stick, a lipstick wand, and a sparkle lip gloss.

Package of Extra Spearmint gum. Fingernail file. (I have discovered that I'm less likely to chew my nails if I can file them when they get a snag.) Headband, cough drops, and my steroid skin cream for my eczema. (I carry this with me in the winter because any sort of irritant will make it look like I've been cutting my arms and face up with paper. If I can get something on it right away, it helps with swelling.)

And finally, a necessity for any woman, a little carrying case that has a couple panty liners, and tampons in it.

You and me together, nothing gets better : Day Eleven

Day 11 – Your siblings

A few days ago, I wrote of my best friend S. I failed to mention that I also have another best friend, my sister A.

A was born three and a half years after me. She was the baby of the family. My mother came from a family with two girls, and I know it meant a lot to her to have two girls as well.

A and I didn't always get along very well. A lot of our childhood was spent with her tailing after me, and me trying to rid myself of her. I wasn't exactly the best of big sisters, but I did have her back, and I think she knows that. If other people were to pick on her, they would get the brunt of sisterly force. Because, dammit, she was my sister and if anyone was going to pick on her, it was going to be me!

We were polar opposites. I was content to sit inside listening to music, reading a book. A wanted to be outside, in the dirt, in the garage. She built things. She was a daddy's girl. It wasn't until I finally moved out of the house that she and I became friends.

At that time, I was the older sister who could drive and had my own apartment. I was the perfect person to find someone to buy her beer, or a place to hide out when our parents got to be too much for her. I was always the go-to when there was a party she wanted to go to, but needed a place to say she was staying. Of course, she was never as good at lying as I was, and usually got caught. My mother was pretty sneaky herself.

A liked punk music. She liked harder rock, and scream-o. Her junior year of high school she cut her hair into a mohawk. She would dye it black. She wore all black.

She was a junior in high school the year Aiden was born. She has been the world's greatest Aunt to him.

While I had a child a year after graduating high school, A went away for college. She went all the way to Tulsa, OK and graduated with a degree in Avionics from Spartan College of Aeronautics. There, she met her boyfriend. They both were hired onto a very good company in Iowa, and made the move there together. The transition was difficult for her, but she has really found her place. They bought a house there late last year. I'm assuming there will eventually be a ring, and a wedding, but for now they seem to be happy with where they are together.

A has done all of the right things, the right way. Even though I'm the older sister, I feel like I'm constantly three steps behind her. Like it should be my job to take care of my baby sister. To offer her money when she needs it, even if she never accepts it. Not the other way around. I envy my sister her choices, and her place in life. I also am so proud of her for them.

She is always only a phone call away. I know this. She is the best of the best of friends, because I know she loves me despite all of my flaws (and she knows them all.) She is my strength and my courage and my inspiration. She is the person who will call me after a boy breaks my heart, and cry on the phone with me.

She makes me laugh. I love her.

Maybe, a vicious little word : Day Ten

Day 10 – What you wore today

Dark grey sweat pants, blue and white striped ankle socks, black workout reversible hoodie, my new nike's.

I bought Aiden a new bike today, and we went out to the middle school track next to our apartment complex. He rode and I walked/jogged. It's the first time I've really attempted jogging since I hurt my legs this last summer. It felt amazing. Hoping for many more nice days this next week.

Where were you, when everything was falling apart? : Day Nine

Day 09 – Your beliefs

I believe that M&Ms are an adequate breakfast food on Saturday mornings. I believe that a hot bath and a good book can cure nearly any physical ailment. I believe that beer, if used correctly, can help in the healing of your heart. I believe that music can speak more powerfully to us than anything else, because often times, it says exactly what we are feeling, but are incapable of expressing ourselves.

I believe that women own the rights to their own bodies. If a woman gets pregnant, regardless of the circumstances, I believe that she has a right to terminate that pregnancy if she so chooses, regardless of her reasons. Do I think abortion should be used as birth control? No. But I do think that people make bad choices and bad decisions. They also take every precaution and accidents happen. I believe I'm allowed this opinion, because I once had to make that choice. I chose to keep my child, and it was one of the hardest and more heart wrenching decisions I have ever had to make. But it was mine to make, no one else's.

I believe that breast is best. I know there are certain situations and medical conditions where it is not advised to breast feed a child, and in those instances, I understand. What i do not understand is the women with no desire to even try. I applaud the women who at least try, find out it isn't for them, and move on. What I do not understand, is the lack of any attempt at all. Breast fed baby's skin is so much softer. Not to mention the HUGE perk of not having to pay all that money for pricey formula that basically makes your child's diaper a toxic waste dump. The first time i changed a child's diaper that was formula fed, I ran to the bathroom to vomit. It was disgusting.

I believe that two men, or two women, should be able to marry each other if they so choose. I don't care who you go to bed with. I don't care who you kiss goodbye in the morning when you leave for work. If you are loved, and in love, you should have that right. If Britney Spears is allowed to get married, EVERYONE should be allowed to get married.

I believe that the color of your hair, eyes, or skin, does not determine your worth as a person. Neither does having a penis. I have never had a penis and I function just fine without it. Neither does your weight.

I believe that Scientology is the biggest crock of poo that I've ever heard of, but I do believe that people have the right to believe in it.

I believe that speech is free, but does carry with it responsibility. Much like super powers, if you're going to say something, you better be able to carry any repercussions with you for the rest of your life.

I believe that love is infinite. I believe you can love different people in a million different ways. I believe in love outside of family, or sexual relationships. I believe that sometimes family are the ones you choose.

Now, onto the topic of religion. I'm not going to say that I do, or do not believe in God. I do not, however, believe that any of the world's religions have gotten it right. I do not believe that Jesus is the one and only way into heaven. I believe in the Golden Rule, and being a naturally good person. I think there is something more than us, whether that is God, or just a form of space type mice, I'm not sure. I think human beings need that concept of God in order to explain their own miserable lives. I think people cling to it, for hope in an otherwise dim world. I'm also extremely well read when it comes to the Christian bible, and it does contradict itself. I do believe that people have the right to believe in it, even if I do not.

I never found solace in religion. It never seemed like a safe place for me. Too many of my views seemed to contradict a lot of what was being taught. Friends and I would argue the points, with neither of us really being able to offer anything to the other , other than our own deeply seeded opinions. Church was always so BORING to me. The services that added bands, and chanting, and speaking in tongues just freaked me out. Nothing ever said in a church ever REALLY stuck with me after walking out.

And finally, I believe that Taylor Hanson is, and will probably always be, one of the most beautiful men I have ever laid my eyes on.

I heard it screaming out your name : Day Eight

Day 08 – A moment

When I wrote in my private (well, more private) journal, doing the 30 days, on day 8 I wrote about something funny Aiden had said to me in the car that day. Something vaguely hilarious, and totally showed the inner workings of a child's brain and his heart. He didn't say anything too terribly funny today. He still isn't feeling completely better and more than anything gave me attitude most of the day.

The only thing I can think to write about was the night, two weeks ago, when B walked into my apartment not carrying his overnight bag, and how I knew right then that it was over. I didn't even have to ask him, though I did, because some part of me needed to hear it out loud. However, that's much too new and I have had far less time to stew over it, over-analyze it, and come up with the perfect words for it. So, I have decided to share another older writing of mine (back when I was far more cynical, and seemed to have a handle on my poetic side, much more than I do now... being a mother sucks that out of you.) I'm not sure if it's something that actually happened, or something I just thought up in my head, and it sounded so pretty that I had to write it down. Needless to say, this is my moment, real or imagined...

--

He sleeps lightly, and she knows this. His breathing is as soft and even as her own as he lays on their bed with his back to her, his shoulders and hips raising the covers up into twin mountains between them. She runs her fingers softly over his bare side, feeling all of his fuzz and fury with a single touch, and she can still smell his scent etched into her pillow case, stained into the stuffing of her pillow. She lay her cheek onto it, and whispers softly, "I love you" not sure if he would hear it as a dream, or not at all.

Her legs ached from work and lack of sleep, and nothing more than a good night's rest would cure all of the things she listed off on her fingers and toes that ached about her. Her hands, her back, her mind. Nothing seemed as it should be.

It was barely dark enough to be called so, yet here they both were, stripped down and under the covers as if it were later than usual. The crickets weren't yet strumming their lullabies. A short cigarette out on the patio and she would be ready for another day, another hour, another lost moment with this man.

"There is nothing particularly special about either one of us," she thought to herself, "but maybe that's why I continue to pretend that he means so much." Not that she would ever tell him any differently. He doesn't deserve to hear such things, just as she isn't a woman who deserves to think them. "Nothing is ever right, and there isn't a single thing anyone of us is able to do about that." Change, the only constant the world has ever known.

She crawls back in between the mountain and falls asleep easily with the smell of lilac in her hair, and the promise that things will be different, in some other place that she'll never even have the joy of seeing or knowing.

The grass is so much greener when you're not the one behind the mower.

You can do it put your back into it : Day Seven

Day 07 – Your best friend

S was my best friend, before I even knew the definition of best friend.

The first time I met her was on the playground at daycare when we were 4 years old. She and her brother were new to the daycare, and me being the seasoned veteran that I was, decided to take it upon myself to introduce the new kids to my turf. "Can I play with you?" I asked them, as they were playing in the sand. "NO!" S yelled at me, throwing sand. After that we were pretty much inseparable.

As luck would have it, after a year of being in daycare together, and my family moved into the house just three doors down from S's and her family. She ran, barefoot, down the sidewalk to greet us the first night we pulled into our new driveway.

She was skinny, dark hair and complexion. Beautiful, if not for the terrible haircuts her father insisted on giving her.

We would build forts in the neighbor's bushes, hang nets from her backyard trees for hammocks to lay on, and sneak into her brother's room when he wasn't home or wasn't looking.

We both got 2 wheel bikes for christmas in first grade. S taught herself how to ride by scooting around the block, using the curb for support.

We had sleepovers, and dinners together, and we fought. We would fight over who got to be the baby when we played house. We fought over whose name got to be "Elizabeth" because that apparently was the best name to have. We would fight over whose barbies we got to play with, what we were going to have for lunch, and who was in charge. We were both very dominant personalities, and we constantly fought for the other one to hand over control.

Of course, we got along famously, too. We were a force to be reckoned with, when we were pitted against a common enemy. Our most common of enemies? Our siblings.

S has an older brother, and we assumed that everything he did was WAY cool, and something we needed to be in on. He of course, constantly dismissed us, would run off to play with his much cooler, much older friends, and we were left trying to fry bugs on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass, with no idea on how to catch the sun.

I have a younger sister. She always thought WE were the cool ones. She always wanted to tag along, and sometimes my mother would force us to bring her with us on our adventures. Most of the time we could force her into the roll of "butler" to do our bidding. She was always more than happy to oblige.

S and I learned how to cheat at nearly every board game, ever. When she and I played against someone else, we always won. Though not by the noblest of means, but we considered ourselves to be pretty clever all the same.

Shortly after the start of our 5th grade year, and we were hit with the most terrible of news that any two friends who were 10 and swore to be BFFs could ever get... S and her family were moving.

I helped them pack up their moving van, and I even rode down to spend the first night in their new house with them. We tangled ourselves together in her room that night, all lanky arms and legs and wet, tear-soaked hair, and we swore to stay in touch. To call, to write, to visit. At 10 years old, losing your best friend to a two hour drive is the end of the world.

Over the next seven years, S and I stayed in touch. We wrote letters, we phoned each other on a semi-regular basis. The saving grace of the entire friendship was that my mother had accepted a position in her town, and commuted two hours every morning. It worked perfectly for my mom to bring S home with her on a Friday night, and for S to ride back with her the next Monday morning.

I visited mostly in the summer, and over winter breaks. In the summer, S and I would rub Crisco all over our budding bodies and lay outside of her apartment pool for hours on end until we were so crisp from the sun, we couldn't move for the next two days. We would sleep on the balcony, and play hide and seek at night with her brother and his older friends. It was at fourteen that we snuck our first few drops of alcohol at a road party her brother had taken us to. It was all of a sudden "cool" for him to be hanging out with his baby sister and her friend.

We would ride our bikes all over town, hang out at the mall playing video games and eating chewy pretzels. We played video games on the super nintendo, and swam all day long.

S came to live with my family the summer of 2000. Her parents were planning to move again. It was just before I started my senior year of high school, and due to the transition, her parents working, her brother having gone away for school, and she had nowhere to be.

I worked part time at the Country Kitchen, she hung out with some other friends from here in town while I was working. When I wasn't, we would drive. We drove and we smoked and we drank. We talked to men twice our age and would talk them into buying us beer. We would hunt boys during the evenings, and when that never panned out, we would hang out at my friend J's house. His mom would let us smoke, occasionally share her weed, and we could pretty much do whatever it is we wanted to do.

As that summer came to an end, I went to Lincoln with S for her first few days at her new school. Her parents were still transitioning between jobs, and they weren't in town. I stayed at the house with her. I got up with her when she got up for school in the morning. I made her coffee, and we smoked our cigarettes. I would drive her to school, and pick her up at the end of the day. Leaving her there was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life.

Over the next two years before she graduated in 2002, and we spent nearly every weekend together. Between me driving there, or her driving here there were very few important moments we missed in each other's lives. S was here for my graduation, I was there for hers. We spent most of the summers together. We went and got our first tattoos together.

A week after she graduated, and we had signed a lease for an apartment back in my town. We broke it to her parents by showing up at their place with her boyfriend's pickup truck (he lived here.) We moved in together, and pretty soon after, we stopped getting along. Her boyfriend and I didn't like each other. I didn't like that he was there ALL THE TIME. He ate our food, he used our hot water, and he didn't pay for any of it.

She started locking her bedroom door. I lost my job. I started locking myself in my bedroom, thinking of ways to kill myself. That April, she sat next to me in the bathroom when I found out I was pregnant. She started giving me some leeway, even though I planned on moving back home as soon as our lease was up.

She and I hardly spoke anymore. It wasn't until I had Aiden and she would visit me that we actually started to reconnect. She sat next to me on my bed the day my milk came in, and watched as I breast fed my son for the first time. She watched Aiden when I had to work.

She got engaged, and asked me to be her maid of honor.

S became a mom nearly two years ago. Her daughter was born on the same day I quit smoking. Her and her husband will be parents for the second time late this summer.

We don't talk often, but we do talk deeply. We have the connection that two people are able to share over time and distance.

She is the person who probably knows me the best, because she knew the me I was, before I became the me I am now.