The Legacy of Life

Some of you know that Brad's grandmother passed away this week. I must be honest, I've had very little death in my immediate family so it is sometimes hard to empathize with the grief. This actually worries me. I wonder how badly I will take it when the grief hits too close to home.

Regardless, Brad's grandmother was a wonderful person. We toasted her today after the funeral. She had a glass (or two) of White Zinfandel every day. She was in a nursing home and they didn't allow it so she actually had the doctor write her a prescription for it. Of course today, we all toasted with White Zinfandel. We went around the room and told what she meant to us. She was and is very loved. What I will always remember about her are the cards she would send us. I'm a card person. I love to get cards. I love to give cards (even though I'm bad at it). She would send us one for our birthday, Christmas, even our anniversary. And she did it for everyone! Everyone around her felt loved.

But I learned so much about her this weekend too. Many of you also know that Brad is very musically gifted. I am completely jealous of this ability. I now know where he acquired his gift. At the end of the funeral they played a recording of her singing The Lord's Prayer from 1945. It was majestic. I had only known her as an old woman, but hearing the power in her voice, you couldn't help but see her as she was in 1945...a beautiful, powerful, amazing young woman.

While it was a very somber occasion, it was the perfect tribute to a woman I am lucky to have known. During the toast, someone mentioned that it was the first funeral he had been to where the deceased was the star of her own funeral! And that sums "Gar" up perfectly.

Dark side of the Moon

You know the movie "Forrest Gump"? Well, I think a woman's life is actually like double sided tape. There are two sides. Both work equally well for different things. I feel like this has been my life a lot lately. There are two "me's". There is the happy one. The one I show at work, the one that tells everyone "I'm good, how are you?". Then there is the one on the inside. The one you know is there in everyone, but are afraid to find. The one we push down to the depths in hopes it goes away. The one that finds us in our darkest hour.

As women, we like to hold on to our own struggles. We like to think we can do it alone, no one knows what our particular hell is like. I have a woman at work who is great. If I need a pick me up, she is the one I go to. She is very complimentary of me for no reason at all. I'm afraid to tell her how wrong she is. How everything she compliments is one of the reasons I'm unhappy, or has made me unhappy in the past.

"You have beautiful eyes." Thank you, but they have seen things no one ever should.

"You have beautiful hair." Thank you, but too many times I've thought of ripping it out, cutting it off so I wouldn't stand out in any way.

"You are nice to everyone." Thank you, but secretly I would rather run away and be alone. I'm nice so they don't know the real me.

Even as I write this I find myself not fully letting go. I won't write things I don't want people to know. "I'll deal with it myself." "There is no need to share that.", etc. etc.

Now don't get me wrong, I have amazing friends. Wonderful friends. Friends that have shouldered more than I could for them. But through no fault of their own, they are still friends I can't show everything to. Its easier for me to be the funny one, the sarcastic one. The one who makes light of every situation. Because, otherwise, they might see the dark side of the moon.

Me and My Dreams

I've mentioned my odd dreams on here before. Sometimes I really freak me out. Usually someone is trying to kill me...I think that is a manifestation of people that want to kill me in real life. I'm not sure why anyone would want to kill someone as awesome as me. It just doesn't make sense.

Anyway, I've had three VERY odd dreams lately. All very short, but I remember them.

1. My bad stepdad used to be married. Well, of course he did, he was married to my mom. But between my mom and his latest ex-wife he had another wife who wasn't very nice. Do you think mean people gravitate towards each other? If so they were perfect together. They got married when I was in college and the only thing I remember about their marriage is I had to miss the UNC v. Maryland basketball game. Whats the big deal, you may ask? Well, I had 2nd row seats behind the Carolina Team. There is a picture in the Wendy's in Carrboro that I SHOULD be in. How do I know this? The girl I was supposed to go with is in it. I never really got over it (obviously). So imagine my shock when I have a dream with her in it (they haven't been married in at least 10 years). I dreamt she won the lottery and gave me some of the money. If only that could happen in real life.

On a side note...I think dreamt looks really funny as a word.

2. I had a dream that a swan was trying to pluck my eyes out with it's beak. Yeah, they aren't so beautiful when they are going for your eyes. Huh...no pun intended.

3. Brad and I have this great friend. Brad has known him since elementary school and I met him in college. He is great, I love him like a brother. The problem...he is just like Brad. We kid around that they share a colon. Anyone who has been around Brad after Mexican food can empathize. This great friend will come visit sometimes and when he does it is just like old times. We go out to eat, watch movies, go to baseball games...just about anything. So its not entirely odd that I would dream about him. In my dream, however, I dreamt we were all in a car going somewhere. Apparently we had just eaten Mexican food because I had to roll the window down and stick my head out so I could breathe. It was as if someone put off two stink bombs in the same car...wait, that IS what they did. Anyway, I woke up as the wind was hitting my face, allowing me to breathe what I hoped wasn't my last breath. As I woke up, I realized my head was elevated, trying to breathe cleaner air because my dog had just farted and was suffocating me.

Back by popular demand!

Ok, so only one person told me she missed not having a new post to read...but she rocks so that means that everyone misses me. The problem is I don't have much to write. Isn't it completely sad now that I am employed and talk to more people than myself and my dogs I have nothing to write about? How boring can one person be?

So this one will be about my dogs. I think everything you need to know in life can be learned from animals. Here are a few things mine have taught me.

1. Whining usually gets you what you want.
2. It is ok to pee in the neighbor's yard. Unless they are home and are watching.
3. Circling before you poop is ok. In human terms this means that you need to check where you are getting ready to set your bum before its too late and you sit in something you hope was just cold but know probably wasn't.
4. When you can maximize your arm and leg length on the bed, you ensure you get most of the covers.
5. When you want some space, all you have to do is fart.
6. If you are cute, you can get away with anything.
7. When someone is sad they like kisses...or for you to bring them a toy to take their mind off whatever was bothering them.
8. When someone yells at you they generally don't want kisses...or toys.
9. Always be happy to see someone when they get home.
10. The whole unconditional love thing. This one doesn't really apply to me because I don't think I could ever be that nice, but I like that my dogs forget I've left them alone for 10 hours and forgot to feed them last night.
11. A nice breeze in the face makes you feel alive...as long as it is not downwind.


What about you? What have your animals taught you?

Women...Can't live with them, but they rule.

I have a feeling that most women struggle with the same things; body image issues, what we wear, finding time to do everything, etc, etc. And then there is me. While I struggle with those, I also struggle with things like using correct punctuation. I swear there must have been a cute boy in class that day taking my attention off the teacher. Otherwise I would be a grammar and punctuation queen. As it is, you'll have to settle for overall queen. Hey, we can't be good at everything.

My biggest struggle is messing stuff up. I am always afraid that I have done something wrong, made someone mad, or just plain screwed up. If Murphy had a sister, she would be named Jessica, have curly hair, and be inept at punctuation.

The thing is, I don't mess stuff up as much as I think I do. I am overly cautious. I walk around corners thinking I will bump into the wall (which happens more than I like to admit). Corners hurt! But I think my fear of messing up prevents me from doing stuff. I'm always afraid I will be told I'm doing it wrong or I should have done it a different way. I'm afraid of not being good enough.

I constantly think my friends are mad at me and that I am left out either because I have done something wrong or I am not important enough to be included. This has also led to my freakishly annoying habit of trying to figure out what is going on with everyone. I hate to not be included. But I'm independent as crap! What is that about???

While women have these issues, I have also seen us be stronger than I ever thought possible. I've seen a woman survive mental and physical abuse, and go on to support her family on a salary that shouldn't have been able to feed one person. I've seen a woman in a wheelchair take care of her family as if there were no disability, meanwhile never complaining. I've seen a woman keep her family together when all it should have done is fall apart. I've seen a woman fight cancer and win.

This is not to say that men are not strong. They are stronger than we give them credit for. They are often our strength. But ask any man that has seen the miracle of life and you will see a man that thinks his wife is stronger than anyone else.

I'm not typically a Woman's Lib kinda girl. I like the man to be head of the household. I like to have door's opened for me, to be complimented, and get dressed up. I like to be pampered. I like to get flowers. Brad...these are hints.

But maybe my fear is that I will never measure up to these women. That I will never have their perseverance. I'm not sure I deserve to. But I hope I have the chance to be a woman who stands up for what she believes in, who fights for her children and her marriage, who listens to God speak, and can be called strong...one day.

My future daughter

I've had this post for awhile and Brad finally helped me figure out how to use the link portion. Actually it went more like "stop telling me how to do it!". "oh, ok, you really do know what you are talking about" "Give me five on that one". Pretty much verbatim.

Regardless, should we ever have children, here is my daughter.

In the words of the great Tone Loc...Let's do it

I have a soft spot for veterans. I always have. I hope I always do. But believe it or not, I am shy...sometimes. I want to thank them, I want to give them the praise they deserve but I get all introverted when the time comes. Well, I found this video today and I'd like to try it out sometime soon. Check it out here.

I bring awesomeness

I have officially finished my third week of my new job. It has been interesting, to say the least. I like it, but I think I like being home more. Last week I went to a Leadership Breakfast and my boss said, "why don't you tell everyone what you bring with you". As in, how are you going to help our company grow and succeed. I actually said, "Including my awesomeness?" This was with VPs. They laughed. They may have been laughing while they were thinking they were only going to give me one more paycheck. Its a cool place though. I think I'll stick around for a bit.

I haven't really had too much to write about lately. Just a few random thoughts.

My awesome friend has chickens. They are beginning to lay eggs. My first thought was for the poor, helpless chicken. What do you think goes through the mind of a chicken the first time they lay an egg? It has to be "Holy Crap. (no pun intended) What was that???". And then it happens every day. Suddenly jobs don't seem so bad.

Another awesome friend emailed me and asked how my job was going. I told her "this place is crazy and everyone here is crazy". Then I started wondering...if you think everyone is crazy where you work and you don't leave...does that make you crazy as well, or were you already that way?

I am Bound

I love that song. I sing it in my head every time I hear someone say those words. Fortunately for me, I am bound! Let me count the ways:

1. for the promised Land. (you can sing along with me)
2. for vacation
3. for work (the first two sound much more fun)

I start my new job on August 17th. I'm so excited but sad that I have to go back to work. I was really getting used to the life of leisure.

Here is an idea of what I will miss:

-my doggies. I have gotten to spend so much time with them. They won't like that no one will be here to pet them upon command.

-my alone time. I savor my alone time, it keeps me sane.

-freedom to do what I want during the day. I've had lunches with friends, not enough with others.

-a feeling of domestication. I liked being the wife. I will have to find a way to mold my two worlds better when I go back to work.

And what I won't miss:

-my doggies. They drive me insane. In. Out. In. Out. Pick one already.

-my alone time. Geez, I would talk Brad's head off whenever I saw him, and anyone else who was unlucky enough to ask me how I was doing. I need people to talk to.

-freedom to do what I want during the day. After about the 2nd month I lost my steam for getting stuff done. Plus, I can only watch The Haunting so many times before I've seen them all and had the same nightmares over and over.

-a feeling of domestication. I could go forever without having to cut the grass again.

So it is interesting to me that the things I love are also the things that will be somewhat easy to leave behind.

The debacle wasn't detrimental!

Great news! The Great Pantyhose Debacle of 2009 wasn't detrimental! They offered me a job! Yay!

Unfortunately this means I may actually have to buy real pantyhose.

Video Camera, Where were you???

I succeeded in having a most embarrassing moment today. I questioned whether I should put it on here. In actuality, it can be most embarrassing and most detrimental at the same time. I guess thats what makes it embarrassing.

I've been interviewing with a few different companies a lot the past few weeks. I mean A LOT. Now, this does wonders for my self-esteem, but not so much for my dilapidated wardrobe. And by dilapidated wardrobe I mean clothes that I have but that are completely worn out because it is all that will fit on my fat butt. And I hate shopping so those clothes are gonna have to suffice. I only have one interview suit. I hate suits. So today I had a third interview at a place that I've already worn the interview suit to twice (two different tops and don't worry, I changed underwear). I decided to wear a skirt. Surely it will be fine to wear a skirt and a nice blouse. It looked fine, I proceeded.

I got to the office and realized my thigh highs (because there isn't much worse than hose in 95 degree heat) were...struggling. Now, given my thighs, that is no surprise. They should have been paid overtime. I check in and try to pull up one side as I'm sitting in the lobby. I look up and smile at the camera and quickly wave an apology. I think I could hear them laughing.

The recruiter comes to get me and by this point the hose is close to breaking free from my knee-cap. I look like an 85 year old grandma with her support knee-highs. You know how they always end up rolled up around their ankles or hanging loose? That was me. At an interview. There was no way to hide it. I tried to strategically place my purse, my notepad, the recruiter. Nothing worked.

He is not oblivious so he noticed I was having issues. While trying not to laugh at me he asked me if I would like a minute in the office before he came in. I tried to play it off and said "no, I'm fine, but thank you!". Luckily we were seated at a table and I could play with them while we were talking. Then the dreaded time came to get up. There was no saving them. Or me. At this point I was already apologizing and he was laughing. Thank goodness it wasn't my first interview, he is a cool guy, and he has a sense of humor.

We were traveling to another office for the 2nd part of the interview and I drove separately. You have never seen anyone rip those things off while driving so quickly. I figured I would look better with white legs than hose around my ankles.

Was it detrimental? Who knows. Guess I'll find out soon!

No Boys Allowed

I just had a thought. Yes, its a rare occurrence, especially since its a thought that is worth sharing! It is no secret of my longing for children. As much as I love my dogs, its just not the same. I just realized, however, that every month when I realize its not my time for rejoicing for children, I am blessed with something else. Last month it was passing my SPHR exam, this month it is the possibility to two different jobs. It all goes back to getting what I need when God wants me to have it. So right now I take this opportunity to praise Him for knowing me so much better than I know myself.

I read this quote yesterday that I wanted to share.

"Lord, I ask that You grant me plenty of work to do, health and joy in simple things, an eye for beauty, a tongue for truth, and a heart that always loves." unknown

Embarrassing was NOT part of the critieria

A wonderful friend of mine (herein known as former friend) pointed out a glaring omission from my last post. One thing that is uniquely me, quite disgusting and altogether embarrassing. I'll add it because I am dedicated to truth in all aspects. Actually, no, I'd just really like some comments.

9. I always have used, but completely un-gross, tissues in my pockets. I have been known to have them up my sleeve (long sleeves only) when pockets are not available. I have allergies. I need tissues. I'm frugal. It all adds up to saving the earth by reusing tissues. See, I'm not gross, I'm green, but not as in snot. Ok, maybe a little.

I was recently cleaning out my purse because it was honestly embarrassing. I had a huge fistful of used tissues to throw away. I'm not proud of it. And it kinda makes me a little sick to my stomach right now given my aversion to all things snot. I think I smell a New Years Resolution. No pun intended.

Ok, so I'm odd.

Brad and I help out with the youth group at church. Yeah, I feel bad for those youth as well. Anytime I say or type "youth" all I can think about is My Cousin Vinny and how he says "the two youts". So funny. Anyway, last night we went around the room and talked about things we think are abnormal or interesting about us. Needless to say, this took awhile. So since then I've been thinking more about mine. Here are a few. Feel free to add any if you know them about me.

1. I used to have a pet skunk.
2. I am double jointed in my thumbs and index fingers.
3. I like nuts, but refuse to eat them on anything. They are only good by themselves.
4. I have an unnatural obsession with fiber.
5. I don't really like chocolate ice cream, but love chocolate.
6. I can bend my index fingers back really far and it freaks Brad out. I love it.
7. I apologize for stuff all the time for no reason. I think "sorry" comes out too freely for no reason and not freely enough when needed.
8. I cannot drive under the speed limit. Or drive the actual speed limit.

Thats all I can think of, but more will come to me. What is most interesting about you?

Only 6 hours, but no nightmares

The last few nights I have been plagued with nightmares. The first night it was my stepdad trying to kill me. I'm a little worried to look that one up to see what it means. And this isn't my current stepdad (my mom just got married a few months ago). Does it make it your stepdad if you don't live in the house? Is it just, then, your mother's husband? I digress. Anyway, it was my first stepdad. He basically raised me. My mother married him when I was 5 and they divorced when I was 15. Oh, glorious day. But I got a sister out of that union so it wasn't all bad. I'm not really going to talk about him on here. But I think I was dreaming of him because it was his birthday. He never liked for people not to remember. Anyway, my second night of nightmares was about zombies trying to kill me (notice the common theme?). But really, do you dream about zombies if they aren't trying to kill you? I mean, they aren't the type you bring home to mom or help you study or go shopping with (another nightmare for me).

So last night I didn't have a nightmare, but I only slept 6 hours. I also have a problem of watching scary things on tv. Things that come back to haunt me, 9 hours later, as I am closing my eyes. I may not even be really paying attention to that tv, it could just be on in the background, but lo and behold at bedtime I can recall intimate facts about that scary show. Do you ever notice that after you wake up from the nightmare, just before the zombie-stepdad kills you, that you can pick up in the same exact spot you left off? I can't do that in books I'm reading, how does my brain do that?

I'm off to make breakfast for Brad and myself. I wonder if that is his nightmare!?

Its my birthday and I'm not gonna cry

Yeah, today is my birthday. Don't worry, I'll accept presents through the end of the month so you don't have to worry about being late. I'm nice that way. For me, though, birthdays kinda suck. Don't get me wrong, any excuse for cake and presents (presents for me) is a good excuse. But I tend to think of the number of years I've been here and how much I haven't accomplished in those years. When I turned 30 I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Not anything I would need to be committed for, but close. All I could think about was how I hadn't done this and that, and how much I wanted this and that. This year I'm doing it different. I'm going to reflect on things that I have accomplished, or things that are great in my life.

1. I found my soul mate. I know this sounds cheezy, you'll be fine. I've spoken a lot about my husband on here before. He rocks. He understands me, lets me be neurotic and still loves me. He supports me. And even if he drives me crazy sometimes, he is such an amazing man.

2. I have a great family. Yes, completely dysfunctional, but we love each other and aren't afraid to hug each other. Granted, I did have to remind my sister a few days ago about my birthday and I've yet to get a call from her. But she has three children so I'll let it slide.

3. On the topic of family, I didn't have a normal childhood (who does, really?) but that made me stronger and I'm a better person because of it.

4. I have great in-laws. There are many horror stories of in-laws that I don't have to worry about. Now, they are still in-laws so they are completely odd, but they would do anything for me.

5. I know and love Jesus. I couldn't always say this. (this maybe should have been #1) As you know if you have read my blog, I have done horrible things. But I am forgiven and its a wonderful feeling.

6. I have no debt. Holy freaking cow! Except, of course, mortgage and car. But that is a huge milestone for us.

7. I've had the opportunity to be out of work for three months and counting. I have loved it and it has made me reevaluate my life.

8. I have wonderful friends. I can count my close friends on one hand, and I like that. I mean the people that would come over in 2 minutes if I needed them. The people that would help me clean my house, let me burp and fart in front of them (!) and know some of the horrible things I have done. People that put up with me in down times and the people I want to share great things with. I'll post about them later.

9. I have awesome animals. They are cutie. I love them. They are always happy to see me, even after I yell at them. One is getting really old and I'm scared of her passing. Kinda makes me a little teary eyed.

10. I have no needs that aren't met. Isn't that amazing? Sure, I want things I don't have (kids, millions in the bank, 300 friends on facebook). But I have everything I need, everything God wants me to have right now. It has been hard to accept that, and I still struggle daily. But it has a peace about it.

This has been very therapeutic. I'm happy now. I need to do this every year. What is amazing in your life?

I'm smart, but I'm not that smart

I have a dilemma. Well, I have many, but only one I want to talk about today. I love to read and currently have three books that I am reading. Problem is, I don't really like any of them but I can't NOT read them, right? One is good, but dry. One is...heck, I don't remember. The other is so far over my head that I don't really think I can say I'm "reading" it. I'm looking at the words, knowing they form sentences, but not really understanding what those sentences mean. I'm thinking if I keep reading I'll eventually get it. I feel very dumb due to my dilemma. I don't like it.

Why yes, it does say "Sucker" on my forehead.

I realize my last few posts have been, well, depressing. I apologize and I promise to only do that once a month. :) So here is my much more upbeat post.

When my husband (who will hereafter be called Brad because thats his name) and I decided to spend the rest of our lives together, I knew there would be some things I would have to compromise on and I knew he would come with 'baggage'. Now, most people's baggage consists of some sort of skeleton in the closet...old flames, secrets, etc. Brad's baggage came in the form of a four-legged feline.

Calabash (the four-legged feline) was adopted from the Animal Shelter by Brad while we were dating. I should have known something wasn't quite right with her when we went to get her. I, like most idiots, stuck my finger in her cage to pet her. She proceeded to saunter over to me, under the guise that she would let me pet her. She didn't. She bit me. Hard. I should have known then. But I figured she was just tired of being in the cage. Like I said, idiot. I try to see the best in people, and animals. Either Brad didn't see this deliberate display of domination, or he was just too mesmerized by her beauty, but he adopted her anyway. She is a smart one, that cat. She uses her beauty, which she is quite beautiful, to lure you in. She is like a woman that way. Anyway, she comes to Brad's apartment which doesn't allow pets, by the way. She makes herself at home. She continues to bite me. A LOT.

She earned the name "Devil Cat" in college by all of his roommates and most people that came to visit. She would bite you if you walked by too many times. She would bite you when you would bend down to pet her. She would sleep on her bed, which you may think was actually yours, and bite you when you tried to go to sleep. This did not stop when we got married and moved in together. She had her perch on the kitchen counter and would bite you for no reason. I cannot count the number of times that I could not sleep because the cat was in our bed. I did not trust her. At all. I mean, it doesn't help that I would antagonize the crap out of her, but I only did it as payback.

Fast forward about 8 years. Calabash is now about 15 or 16 years old. We moved into a new house. We extended her life by about 5 years. I cry. Honestly, this cat my never die. She loves the new house. We even got a new dog. One that antagonizes her worse than I do. She doesn't falter. She hides for a week, but emerged with renewed strength and stronger teeth.

One day I realized it had been a good 5 months since she had broken my skin. I was impressed, I thought she was finally starting to warm up to me after 12 years of ownership. Then she bit me. She then promptly lost her place as the wallpaper on my phone. Now I know if Brad reads this he will claim that I love the cat. I do love her. I'm also scared of her. And I seem to remember a time that he screamed like a girl when she lunged at his neck. So hopefully he now won't say anything. :)

So why am I a sucker you may ask? Well amid the scars, emotional and physical, that this dear cat has left upon his wife, Brad is determined to get another cat. I have fought it for as long as he has wanted one. The other night we went into Petsmart to get dog food (why can't they just eat the cat?) and Brad fell in love with one of the cats for adoption. I almost caved. I may have caved, but their adoption hours were over. I like to think it was divine intervention. He thinks it was because we took too long at dinner. Regardless, we didn't come home with the cat. So I win, for now.

Facebook=help?

Is that even possible? I'm a facebook junkie. I don't do a whole lot on there, but spend way too much time. I just like to see what everyone else is doing, who isn't talking to me, who is friends with whom, who kept in touch, etc. Today I read something from a friend of mine that seemed as if it was written for me. It basically said "I'm trying to find my way, please help me". Of course the 'finding my way' struck me, but it was from a guy. I guess I think guys are much more certain, more deliberate, stronger. Its not often that they need help, and less often they ask for it (or so we think). I have been struggling A LOT lately with quite a few things. My poor husband is often my therapist/husband/crying shoulder/sounding board. He is too good to me. As much as I rely on him, even he can't fix this. I have to turn it over to the Lord. That is exactly what my facebook friend was doing. Why is this so hard for me? Why do I feel like this is my fight and won't allow anyone else in? People are willing to fight with me, why won't I let them?

Do I get a Do-Over?

Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I am not a 'girlie-girl'. I don't squeal (unless, of course, it is due to spiders), I don't really like pink (which my husband can't understand) and I definitely don't primp. I have a rule that I have to be able to do my hair in 5 minutes. I get out of the shower, comb it, and gel it. I do not get my nails done (toes not included), I don't go to make up counters and I'm not a phone talker. I'm not a girlie-girl. Oh, I am absolutely HATE shopping.

But I love weddings. I had the honor of going to my cousin's wedding in Boston this weekend. It was a beautiful wedding. Ceremony outside at sunset, etc. And of course, I cried. I think I cry at weddings even if I don't know the people getting married. I cried so much at my wedding I had to tell the pastor to 'hang on a sec'. Not one of my finer moments. I may be emotional, but I'm not girlie. :)

At the reception I commented on how much I wanted to get married again. I loved my wedding. I had a great time and probably broke every etiquette rule, but I didn't care. I had fun with my husband and made it a day I would remember. After my comment, someone asked me if I would do it all over again, with the same husband. I know, odd question. But we are family, it was more of a joke. The problem is...a few years ago, I would have answered differently. I would have said no.

About two and 1/2 years ago we started going through some really tough times. And it really slapped us in the face. We had a great marriage, one that our friends envied. We didn't even have to try at it. We were so in love it all came naturally. We were completely broke so there were those stresses, but that was it. It was all easy. Or so we thought...

We started to get very complacent and stopped thinking about the other person. We stopped making the other a priority. And worst of all, we didn't communicate. AT. ALL. God was no where in our marriage which led us down a road that no one should ever have to go. There was a time of separation for us. Our families were completely shocked too. I don't tend to divulge a lot to anyone so for me to leave and not talk about it really scared people. I can't remember how long we were separated. Long enough.

I was being completely selfish, but I validated it. Can't we always? We got married right out of college and after 8 years of marriage I wanted to be anywhere but where I was. My husband was stuck between giving me my space and fighting for someone that didn't want to be fought for. I was stuck between hell and...hell. I was involved with people and things that were so harmful to me. I drank too much and I slept very little. I lost 35 pounds. That part I liked. :) But it was stress and not eating and working out too much, trying to make myself feel better.

When I finally came home it wasn't because I wanted to. It was because I felt like I had to or because I thought I should. I fought it. I was only there physically, not mentally. And that went on for a long time. Too long. I remember talking with a church group (who knew nothing about what was going on) and they were talking about love. Someone said that love is a choice. It is. It is not a feeling. Sure, it is in the beginning, but that fades. After it fades, what do you have? You have a choice. I chose wrong. I chose to be selfish and make decisions that I would regret for the rest of my life.

I don't remember what made me finally chose correctly. But I remember the feeling. Do you know people who said they immediately felt different after choosing Christ? I never had that. My conversion to a believer was a slow one. But this one I remember. I chose to stop seeing the bad stuff in my husband. I chose to stop seeing us as separate. I chose to see that we were brought together by our Heavenly Father. I chose to be there and be receptive to my husband and give him the grace he had given me. Its the best decision I have ever made.

Its sad that we went through what we did. I know we are not alone. And our marriage is now stronger because of it. I thank the Lord every day that He stood by me and chose a husband for me that would do the same. I thank the Lord that I am still one of His children.

There are plenty of people who would say they wouldn't change anything in their past because it made them who they are today. While that may be true, I am not one of those people. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could take away my actions. The hurt I caused, the hurt that is still felt, the hurt that may never go away. Given the opportunity, I would gladly take a 'do-over'.

Pity Party Time

Yeah, yeah. No one wants to hear it. I don't care. I need to say it. No one reads anyway. And hence begins my pity party.

It all started this morning with the stupid eggs. I like to cook for my husband. I really do. I just suck at it. I have no confidence and he is such a good cook that it just makes it worse. I think he is just really comfortable in the kitchen. I'm comfortable cleaning the kitchen. But since I have been laid off I have really tried to be much more domestic in the kitchen. But I hate frying pans. The cast-iron-cause-a-really-big-knot-in-your-head-and-a-pain-to-clean ones. My husband loves them. So he wanted sausage and eggs this morning and he wanted them cooked in the skillet. I tried to tell him I hated them. (this is not his fault, by the way) Anyway, sausage, no problem. Eggs, problem. The pan was too hot and they stuck and I couldn't flip them and they were just ugly and ruined. Then came time for my eggs. I prefer the non-stick, easy to clean, thing and I didn't put butter in it because I'm trying to act healthier and they stuck. Needless to say to anyone who knows me, egg ended up on the back of the stove, the top of the stove, everywhere but where it needed to be. Then I proceeded to pout. A lot.

My husband, bless his heart, tried to console me. Its useless. Do you ever have those days when you just want to be in a bad mood? Where you think it is just your day and you want everyone to leave you alone? Just me? Well, that is today.

I just want to feel like I am good at something. Anything. I can't even freakin' cook eggs right. I want to have a talent, to feel like I have something to offer. See...pity party. I am just so overwhelmed. And I'm going to a wedding this weekend and everyone will be skinny and it just pisses me off. ;)

Ok, tangent there. Anyway, I would love some suggestions, maybe some passages, to read to help me out. Any suggestions?

Doing it right

I had the honor of taking the other car to get new tires today. Luckily, no rain nor flat tires were involved. As I was waiting, I walked up to a local fast food restaurant to study for a bit and grab a bite to eat. As I was there I noticed something that melted my heart. There were a group of four older men eating together. This isn't abnormal. Usually they are with their wives or something, but there was just something about this group of men. They were probably about 75 years old, possibly widowed as none of them were wearing wedding rings. I listened (ok, eavesdropped) on their conversation a little and heard them talk about fun things they had done together. I didn't get the feeling this was an uncommon occurrence, them getting together for breakfast. What struck me, was the feeling I had about them. I could feel their strength. They lived through a time when the world was much different, men were much different. I see a lot of men wanting to become like them and I love it. I think our society has allowed men to soften, to become emasculate. This is not what our society, or our women, need. These men had more than likely been in war, seen things that our minds don't want to imagine. Men in that generation are reverred and rightfully so.

What also struck me was how men get it right. Women, myself included, tend to dwell on the little things, the things that don't really matter. Women seldom slow down to breathe. I'm not a mother but based on how busy I feel now, I can only imagine how frazzled I will be then. We need to slow down. We need to let the kitchen be messy, the laundry unfolded, as long as it leads to the things that are important. Sunggling on the couch with your love, even if it invovles watching 3 months of playoffs. Coloring with your kids, or friend's kids, even if it means it isn't in the lines. I am really bad at this. I feel like I need to be doing something, anything to be useful. I gauge myself on how much I get done, or how clean my house is, or how much I make. WHO CARES???? In the end, only me. And that is not how I want to live. I want to live based on how He would care. I will fail, but I will try.

So as these four men left the restaurant with their coffee and smiles, they did another thing surprising. They got into the same car. Even if you are a strong man, its ok to depend on someone else to help you get where you are going. Cause none of us can do it alone.

Irony: a definition

Dictionary.com defines irony as:

1. the use of words to convey a meaning that is opposite its literal meaning.
2. a technique of indicating, as through character or plot development, an intention or attitude opposite to that which is actually or ostensibly stated.

Or as I would like to use it today...

"an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected."

Please allow me to offer an illustration.

Last week I got my car inspected. As I am normally late, the new rules in NC make it much harder to get your registration/insurance if you don't do this on time. The very nice gentleman passed me, even though my tires were...lacking. He actually told me that I needed new tires. This I know. I also need money for tires. Regardless...my wonderful husband made an appointment for me to get new tires this morning. I was so proud of myself because I was actually going to be on time. Actually early. I allowed enough time for slow drivers, long stop lights, even school buses. However, I did not allow enough time for a flat tire. Because surely that wouldn't happen. So, I am driving down my driveway, thinking...."hmmm, something doesn't sound quite right". (Did I mention I worry too much?) I pulled over and checked the tires because I have a horrible fear of having flat tires, even though I've had enough to get over that fear. Lo and behold, completely flat tire.

I called my husband, told him the situation, and he laughed. Oh, I forgot to mention it was raining. And he is laughing! He stopped when he realized he would have to come change it because even though I am independent, I'm not the most coordinated and I do rely on men for tire changing. Plus, it is REALLY hard to get those lugnuts off.

I thought I would help him out before he got there. I took out the spare tire, the manual (I'm a girl, we read directions) and tried to get the jack out...in the rain. He got there about 10 minutes later and promptly put them all back in the trunk and told me to drive back to the house. Wait...I'm trying to help and you tell me to drive back home? HUH? Oh, you mean you don't want to change the tire in the current of water...makes sense.

Anyway, finally got the tire off and put the spare on (he did, not me) and guess what...its almost flat. Yes, I should have been named Murphy. But all is well. The tires are new and the spare is full of air...for next time the flat tire comes.

What is my purpose

First of all, yes, I realize I am late to the blogging scene. It fits...I'm late to everything. I hate it too. I underestimate how long it will take me to get places, probably because I assume everyone else will drive as well as I think I do. I decided to start blogging because, well, I have time now. I was recently laid off and am thoroughly enjoying it! But it has started me thinking...what is my purpose?

I grew up with a mom who didn't work until I was in my teens. And then, due to divorce, she had to work two jobs. I always wanted to work so I could be as independent as possible. I would never rely on anyone! Then college comes and you meet the man of your dreams. :) I still wanted to work, but mostly because I didn't know what else I would do. I have a friend who got married and had children pretty soon after marriage. She didn't work. I completely scoffed at her..."why do you want to go to school for 4 years, only to do nothing with it???". Now, I'm thinking she had it right.

Here's the problem. I have absolutely no reason to stay home. Sure, its nice to be able to clean the house and make dinner and do all the things wives are supposed to do. But is that my only identity? Is that my only purpose? Surely it can't be. The Lord surely wouldn't put this desire in me for nothing, right?

So I'm stuck. I want to work to be useful. I want to help out the finances (actually, I think I have to work right now), I want to do more than laundry and yard work. But at the same time, I don't. I'm trying to pray about it. I'm trying to let the Lord lead me...at both of which I am horrible. Hence, the blog begins. I have long wanted to know how I fit into this world. I have no discernible talent, I do not have children...the list could go on, but I'm afraid it would sound a bit like a pity party. Hopefully this blog will allow me to figure things out, or at least be ok with the things I have no control over. Hopefully you won't be too bored!