...anniversary.
i've got a hard core case of the grouchies/weepies this week. i'd love to say that i have the amazing ability to talk to myself in the mirror, say 'get over it', and it be that easy, but it's not.
yesterday was mario's birthday. 'happy birthday, mario. wherever you are.' i have seen june 15th looming on the calendar for about a week and dreaded it's coming. unknowingly yesterday, i came to work, and the first time i typed it- 6/15/09, my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. it was like going down a rollercoaster, except i really like rollercoasters. i can say that i truly thought i was going to kick yesterday's ass, having made so much progress these last months, i really thought i might conquer. but, i lost. on the way home from work yesterday i burst into tears, and quickly found myself on the couch in complete 'mope' mode. i can't quite describe the feeling. it was like i was missing something, and like i should have been doing something. i mean, for the last few years i've cooked the dinner, made the cake, planned the party. and this year, nothing. it's truly the most bizarre out-of-body experience. to feel completely cut off from someone i used to share EVERYTHING with.
and to add insult to injury. saturday is our wedding anniversary. so, here with the memories of what i was doing exactly one year ago. walking down the isle....dreaming about the future....celebrating....cutting cake. ugh. gross. vomit. it's like taking a big sharpie and scribbling all over the pretty memories in my head. wanting to be happy about something that just doesn't have any happy left.
my mom says to remember that i won. that i got the better end of this deal. that i am no longer abused, yelled at, and left all alone. and i think i'll try to cling to that. to celebrate the fact that God set me free and pulled me out of the pit when i really thought i was stuck, for good.
anyway, those are the tales of the divorcee for today. sucks.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
happy friday
Thursday, June 11, 2009
it's love
i brought home my little bundle of joy on sunday night. (my fuzzball dog, lily, that my mom has been harboring for me until i was settled.) and to be honest, i forgot how much work it is to have a dog. nine months of freedom is a long time, and i had become used to doing whatever i wanted in the evening.
lily's pretty fun. 9 pounds of cuddles and kisses. i like to refer to her as "the only good decision i made in two years." (it's really true.) but the problem is i am completely ridden with guilt when i put her in her kennel every morning, and return every evening....around 10 hours later. i realize that most dogs spend the majority of the day by themselves, but you need to understand that lily spent the last 9 months in dog heaven. ferserious. my mom is retired, with two cats, my brother, and lots of time. so this dog of mine had 'round the clock attention and playmates. so imagine her little down-turned ears every morning when i part. it's not fun.
as a result of guilt and the desire to be a GOOD dog-owner, i have now managed to drag myself out of bed at 6:00 every morning to feed her, take her on a walk, and play with her before i go to work. now, mind you, i go to the gym every night, so this 'exercise' is not for me. it's for her, and it goes something like this: step-step-sniff-step-bark-step-step-piddle-sniff-sniff-poop. for thirty minutes. it's not fun, but it does edge off the guilt a little, and i know she feels better.
anyone knows where to get some doggie prozac?
lily's pretty fun. 9 pounds of cuddles and kisses. i like to refer to her as "the only good decision i made in two years." (it's really true.) but the problem is i am completely ridden with guilt when i put her in her kennel every morning, and return every evening....around 10 hours later. i realize that most dogs spend the majority of the day by themselves, but you need to understand that lily spent the last 9 months in dog heaven. ferserious. my mom is retired, with two cats, my brother, and lots of time. so this dog of mine had 'round the clock attention and playmates. so imagine her little down-turned ears every morning when i part. it's not fun.
as a result of guilt and the desire to be a GOOD dog-owner, i have now managed to drag myself out of bed at 6:00 every morning to feed her, take her on a walk, and play with her before i go to work. now, mind you, i go to the gym every night, so this 'exercise' is not for me. it's for her, and it goes something like this: step-step-sniff-step-bark-step-step-piddle-sniff-sniff-poop. for thirty minutes. it's not fun, but it does edge off the guilt a little, and i know she feels better.
anyone knows where to get some doggie prozac?
Friday, May 29, 2009
Breaking Up
Dear Celery,
I've tried. For years, I have been trying to make this work. I walk by you in the grocery stores, and I admit, that you draw me in. I see you sitting there, and I know what you're capable of. I hear the stories people tell about how wonderful you are. I know what you have to offer. But I just have to step away. Over and over again, I've convinced myself to give you a chance. And every time I do, there you sit- in my fridge, for days, weeks, months. Until finally, I throw you in the trash. I know, I know, you're crisp and fresh, but- it isn't enough. I just, well, let me say it- I think you taste awful. I like you in my tuna salad, but that's it. I don't like you with peanut butter, or ranch, or in salads. I just can't keep this charade up anymore. I've given it my best. I've even tried preserving you in tupperware full of water. I know it gives you a longer life, but no ammount of time is enough for us. I just can't give you what you deserve. This is it. Really, this time. This is goodbye. I know that you deserve more.
Best dishes,
Megan
I've tried. For years, I have been trying to make this work. I walk by you in the grocery stores, and I admit, that you draw me in. I see you sitting there, and I know what you're capable of. I hear the stories people tell about how wonderful you are. I know what you have to offer. But I just have to step away. Over and over again, I've convinced myself to give you a chance. And every time I do, there you sit- in my fridge, for days, weeks, months. Until finally, I throw you in the trash. I know, I know, you're crisp and fresh, but- it isn't enough. I just, well, let me say it- I think you taste awful. I like you in my tuna salad, but that's it. I don't like you with peanut butter, or ranch, or in salads. I just can't keep this charade up anymore. I've given it my best. I've even tried preserving you in tupperware full of water. I know it gives you a longer life, but no ammount of time is enough for us. I just can't give you what you deserve. This is it. Really, this time. This is goodbye. I know that you deserve more.
Best dishes,
Megan
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
this is a bad idea.
ok. so i cancelled cable. (decided i could go without the utter filth, and accept the free channels my little antenna provides.) and this weekend there was nothing on the tube, except an infomercial that i watched for about fifteen minutes.....
introducing 'the new wave oven'. i watched this only because i could not tear myself away. i'm sure this is a bad, bad idea. one that those who cook with it will regret in about ten years when their children start mutating additional appendages from consuming anything cooked in this device.
let me explain. the new wave oven asks that you place FROZEN food in it's chamber. and this thing cooks pounds, upon pounds, of FROZEN meat in minutes. and entire turkey, FROZEN, in 2 hours. who thinks that this sounds normal? does this not scream nuclear problems?
i don't get it.
introducing 'the new wave oven'. i watched this only because i could not tear myself away. i'm sure this is a bad, bad idea. one that those who cook with it will regret in about ten years when their children start mutating additional appendages from consuming anything cooked in this device.
let me explain. the new wave oven asks that you place FROZEN food in it's chamber. and this thing cooks pounds, upon pounds, of FROZEN meat in minutes. and entire turkey, FROZEN, in 2 hours. who thinks that this sounds normal? does this not scream nuclear problems?
i don't get it.
memorial day weekend
i'm convinced that my mother is lying about her age. she never stops. and the woman is 63. she really is amazing. there are lots of things i learn 'as i get older', but appreciating my mom at this depth is something i wish i would have had done all my life.
she came up friday night to see me at work and meet all my new co-workers and doctors. (of course she came with gifts, because she had combed through her flower beds and brought lots of bulbs and plants to give away.) once we got to my place, we unloaded her car. (full of things that had been stored at the house in topeka.) she refinished the leaf of my dining room table, which had been ruined in the move, and it looks absolutely PERFECT. she's amazing. handy-dandy, that woman. she also brought lots of flowers for my place.....and we spent about 10 hours in my flower beds this weekend. i'm convinced that the grounds keeper at my complex sucks, hard core. there was about 2 feet of old mulch on my patio, along with whatever winter debri had not been removed. it was a mess. but now, (pictures coming soon), it's beautiful. i have an herb garden, a couple tomato plants, and the most overgrown rubber plant you have ever seen. (the pot we ended up planting it in will NEVER move.) on top of all that we went to ace hardware about 5 times, combed the prairie village garage sales, met my cousin for lunch and pedicures, finished sewing my curtains, (but NOT on sunday, my mother refuses to sew on a sunday), watched a couple flicks, walked the dog, and worked in the yard some more.
it's really fun to have that time with my mom. makes me miss my brother. and wish he could come visit more often. and when trying to hang shelves, and it doesn't quite go right, makes me miss my dad. cause he would've tore that up in about five seconds. i'm really lucky to have such a great family. i've always said, "we might be a small bunch, but we certainly are mighty." i realize that at 30, i spend a lot more time with my family than the average woman. but i don't care, cause it's really fun. and in hindsight, i wish i would have spent more time with my father, so there are few things i'd rather do than hang with my mom.
she really is the best mom in the world.
she came up friday night to see me at work and meet all my new co-workers and doctors. (of course she came with gifts, because she had combed through her flower beds and brought lots of bulbs and plants to give away.) once we got to my place, we unloaded her car. (full of things that had been stored at the house in topeka.) she refinished the leaf of my dining room table, which had been ruined in the move, and it looks absolutely PERFECT. she's amazing. handy-dandy, that woman. she also brought lots of flowers for my place.....and we spent about 10 hours in my flower beds this weekend. i'm convinced that the grounds keeper at my complex sucks, hard core. there was about 2 feet of old mulch on my patio, along with whatever winter debri had not been removed. it was a mess. but now, (pictures coming soon), it's beautiful. i have an herb garden, a couple tomato plants, and the most overgrown rubber plant you have ever seen. (the pot we ended up planting it in will NEVER move.) on top of all that we went to ace hardware about 5 times, combed the prairie village garage sales, met my cousin for lunch and pedicures, finished sewing my curtains, (but NOT on sunday, my mother refuses to sew on a sunday), watched a couple flicks, walked the dog, and worked in the yard some more.
it's really fun to have that time with my mom. makes me miss my brother. and wish he could come visit more often. and when trying to hang shelves, and it doesn't quite go right, makes me miss my dad. cause he would've tore that up in about five seconds. i'm really lucky to have such a great family. i've always said, "we might be a small bunch, but we certainly are mighty." i realize that at 30, i spend a lot more time with my family than the average woman. but i don't care, cause it's really fun. and in hindsight, i wish i would have spent more time with my father, so there are few things i'd rather do than hang with my mom.
she really is the best mom in the world.
Monday, May 18, 2009
not that interesting
i'm really bad at this. i think blogging is supposed to be funny. at least, all my friends posts are really funny. funny things happen to me, but then i forget. and this week was pretty significant, so maybe i'll tell that story.
on wednesday, may 20th, i will have officially hit the nine month mark. and it's a happy anniversary. it means i've come a long way, and that the 'first year' is almost over. i've survived almost all of it. halloween, thanksgiving, our 'when we started dating' anniversary, christmas, new year's, valentine's day, easter, and now there seems to be only a few left. our wedding anniversary, his birthday, and the fourth of july. i think those will be pretty difficult. i'm going to miss camping over the fourth. we camped a lot, and those weekends were some of our happiest. i love camping. not sure that any of my friends love it, so maybe i'll have to let that one go for awhile.
this last weekend i moved. for the last time. i'm home. and it is perfect. i never thought i would be this happy to live all alone, with my little dog. though i seem to be surviving the memories of the past, i'm so excited for the future. after a long weekend of painting, moving, unloading, loading, unwrapping, and dumping. april, kelly, and i sat on my couches (that have been in a gargage for the majority of this year), turned on the tv and relaxed. that moment seemed very surreal. i can't believe i'm here. with all the things that i love. my pots and pans. my pillows. my bed. i know they are just things, and they can't make me happy, but they make me feel like i can do one of the things that brings me the most joy, and that is being a good homemaker. i'm so happy to be home. i really can't explain it. i cried out of sheer relief/joy/disbelief/humility with my mom. i'm home. i have a home. it's not anyone else's, and no one can yell at me or make me feel scared or alone or abandoned. i'm free.
i'm sitting here typing, kind of annoyed with my wordage. i like to write, and i'm crazy with proper grammar and flowing sentences. and the above jarble is horribly written in my opinion. but it reflects how i feel. totally in awe and barely able to speak. i can't quite put it into words how great it is to have a home. but i have one. and it's amazing.
that's all.
on wednesday, may 20th, i will have officially hit the nine month mark. and it's a happy anniversary. it means i've come a long way, and that the 'first year' is almost over. i've survived almost all of it. halloween, thanksgiving, our 'when we started dating' anniversary, christmas, new year's, valentine's day, easter, and now there seems to be only a few left. our wedding anniversary, his birthday, and the fourth of july. i think those will be pretty difficult. i'm going to miss camping over the fourth. we camped a lot, and those weekends were some of our happiest. i love camping. not sure that any of my friends love it, so maybe i'll have to let that one go for awhile.
this last weekend i moved. for the last time. i'm home. and it is perfect. i never thought i would be this happy to live all alone, with my little dog. though i seem to be surviving the memories of the past, i'm so excited for the future. after a long weekend of painting, moving, unloading, loading, unwrapping, and dumping. april, kelly, and i sat on my couches (that have been in a gargage for the majority of this year), turned on the tv and relaxed. that moment seemed very surreal. i can't believe i'm here. with all the things that i love. my pots and pans. my pillows. my bed. i know they are just things, and they can't make me happy, but they make me feel like i can do one of the things that brings me the most joy, and that is being a good homemaker. i'm so happy to be home. i really can't explain it. i cried out of sheer relief/joy/disbelief/humility with my mom. i'm home. i have a home. it's not anyone else's, and no one can yell at me or make me feel scared or alone or abandoned. i'm free.
i'm sitting here typing, kind of annoyed with my wordage. i like to write, and i'm crazy with proper grammar and flowing sentences. and the above jarble is horribly written in my opinion. but it reflects how i feel. totally in awe and barely able to speak. i can't quite put it into words how great it is to have a home. but i have one. and it's amazing.
that's all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)