Not Alone but Lonely

Family and friends surrounded.
They smiled and laughed. I looked on as an outsider.
I am watching my life unfold behind a glass window.
I see myself move from room to kitchen to door. Exit and return.
In the night I rise. I wonder thru darkness of my home and my soul.
Uneasy and unmoving.

I am watching my life unfold behind a wall.
Realizations of love blocked by bricks constructed to protect a broken heart. Thick and unbroken.
Darkness presses down.
I wonder thru the darkness of my heart.

Brown eyes plead for love. I press up against the wall. I hammer and claw.
Never alone for more than a minute. Lists ticking off in my head.
They giggle and run.
I hide.

I try to keep up. Going too fast I cannot grasp.
I reach for love and it moves from me.
I hide behind the wall. I peer through the glass.
A damaged heart.

I am watching my life unfold in a mirror.
The mirror is broken and I see myself distorted.
Beyond repair. Can the glazer fix it?
It's not me.
I look away.
I look away.

A VICTIM - EDITED VERSION (thank you BK)

I know I always play the victim but I promise that I do try to be strong so that it doesn't come off that way, but my strength turns into something different. It turns into anger, and I turn into a monster. Here I am, and I am so sick, sick that yes I am going to get ahead financially, but I still have to go bankrupt to do so; sick that all I do when things get rough is turn ugly rather than being humble and just saying, "Well, thank God I'm just alive with a roof over my head."

But at a certain point when I have been through so many ringers, I just want something good. Is that too much to ask? I want to marry the man I love, but I can't because I don't have money and I have to wait until I have sorted out my finances and I do have money. Well, what does that tell me...that I'm not good enough.

There was only one time in my life I actually contemplated suicide and I partially went through with it. I was 14. I have only the last year thought about it over and over again because some days the pain is too much and the failure is too embarrassing. Another form of suicide is just giving up entirely, on everything, even my relationship, and running home to my mom. I picture us growing old together, my mom and me, like in GREY GARDENS, crazy and miserable, that life treated us so horribly. I picture nursing her to her death when that day comes and I end up all alone buried in cat feces because I just stopped caring.

Everything I'm feeling is because of work. The morale dropped so low here, and my spirits even further, a lot is at stake here and I cannot simply just quit. Now if I can just say that about life in general, I will be okay.

Signed,

The Victim (sorry, I am not proud to say it)

Empty

The move is here. We've cleaned and purged, sold furniture, given away half a garage full of "stuff", and have packed up the rest. It's been rough at times, especially during Thanksgiving. I had to really dig deep within myself to find the strength to make it through this. I sit here and type and am surprised at the emotions that are still bubbling below the surface. I have taken this move much harder than I thought I would.  I did it though. With the help of xanex and a few beloved friends I have made it to the end...just about to it. And with Sara Bareilles as my soundtrack.. thank you to Amy, Jmama and Sassy for recommending her album. The heart and soul of her music has pulled me through this dark time.

Even though I have cried more times than I can count or care to admit. Even though I have times of breaking down in my closet hiding from the world. Even though I am clinging to every memory of this home and this time in SC I have found hope. Just a bit of hope that on the other side I will find more hope, strength and endurance. I know that God has more for me and my family. I can find a safe haven. I can keep looking for that strength that lies deep within me...the warrior princess!

Signed,
Annie Xena Princess

BTW: I plan to look like her after I institute my work out plan!

The Roommate, Part 2

If you read yesterday's blog you became familiar with who I deem "The Roommate". Skipping ahead of several blogs I was planning to write about the days after the accident, I just have to mention briefly here what happened last night. The irony of the situation cannot wait to be shared with you.

After writing the blog yesterday, I was not anxious to get home. It was a little like the old days (meaning the days just after the accident) because I had carpooled to work yesterday (I learned the benefits of conserving energy, especially since my ride drives a Prius). Anyway, as we pulled up to the driveway I held my breath because usually I see The Roommate's car right when I get home. Whew, I could breathe a little, he was not home yet.

I get inside and take over the areas I want before The Roommate gets home - the couch, the kitchen counter, the kitchen table. Hey, I needed to start prepping dinner (for Brad to cook), I needed to set up my laptop, and I was going to read by the fire later. I actually felt a little at home. I was happy, I was comfortable.

Then, the lock started to jiggle. I tensed. Fists clenched. I was dreading The Roommates face, his voice, the interruption of my peace. And then, to my surprise, it was the best face to appear - Brad's. NO ROOMMATE. Whew, again, now I was really breathing right.

"I thought you were [The Roommate]," I said.

"No, it's just me."

"Hey, when is [The Roommate] leaving town for Thanksgiving?"

"Today. He's gone. I told you that last night. I don't think you were paying attention."

Um, hellooooooooooo! Don't you think if I heard that, even in a faint whisper, I would have jumped for joy! This was the best news ever. Brad added that The Roommate was not scheduled to return until December 1st! WOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

In that very moment, standing right there in the kitchen, I tore off my pants and danced around in my button down shirt and red underwear!!!!

When does complaining ever get you what you want! Well, it did yesterday. Here I had made myself resent The Roommate more by writing a blog about him, and instead of being punished, my dream came true of his absence! It was HOME SWEET HOME last night.

Too bad that I went upstairs after the great dinner Brad made and passed out without even changing into PJs. We had the entire place to ourselves, Brad spoiled me with a great dinner, and he even came home at a decent hour to do it, and I fell asleep before he could even come upstairs and say, "Hey, no, don't...." Maybe that is what happened the night before when he told me The Roommate was leaving, I was probably already passed out. Had Brad told me when I was awake, or even text me yesterday to remind me, I would have made a point of having the energy to have a romantic evening alone.

Oh well, there is tonight, and every night until December 1st!!! Thank you, God!!! You heard my prayers!

The Roommate

In the days following the accident I was spending a lot of time at home in the evenings with my new roommate, and I do not mean the fiance.

Thanks to the accident, I had to go straight home from work most evenings because I had to follow the schedule of my carpool. My boss was out of the country so that meant I could leave work at approximately 6p, but by depending on a ride, I could not join some friends for Happy Hour, I could not go to my kickboxing classes, I could not even go grocery shopping (the very act I once loathed but even came to desire during the trial period after the accident). Basically, I had no other option than to go to my new home. You think that would be exciting, right?

No! Considering the fiancee was very busy with work, getting home early did not mean I got to spend time with him. He had just begun working a lot of late nights, which would continue in the months to come. Who I did find at home, EVERY SINGLE night was, the roommate, the guy Brad had living there before I moved in. The one and only guy who I found, to my regret, to live with Brad to help pay his mortgage. The guy who turned out to be a crazy Christian.

At first, this kid rubbed me the wrong way, and then I thought after a few conversations, "Oh, he's not that bad." But when I came home every night to find him in the living room, planted in front of the TV in the smack middle of the couch with a plate of food on his lap, it began to seriously irk me. I thought, what 21 year old college kid in Los Angeles spends every single night at home? Wasn't he dating someone? Didn't he want to be with her, or upstairs in his room talking to her on the phone? Didn't he have homework to do upstairs at his desk? That was just the beginning.

And then came the idea of decorating my new home with this extra time in the evenings. I thought I might have the chance to make the place look and feel like a home, rather than a bachelor pad. But this roommate felt he had a right to give his input. Why, because he pays rent? Who gives a rip, Brad OWNS the freakin' place, and soon I will, too, when we're married. And yet, I had to hear it from this kid that if I put the bookcase "there" it was an "eyesore". Or, how about his, "Why don't you put up pictures instead of that thing?" What was even worse was when I put my Asian screen in front of the living room window, and then came home the next night to find that the roommate folded it up and put it in the corner of the room. Or, how about when I moved the furniture around a bit and came home later to find he had put it right back where it was before. I was going to ring this kid's neck.

It gets worse.

I wanted to keep our bedroom doors closed. One evening I found the door open. The roommate explained that he likes to have the doors open so he knows when we are and are not at home. If the door is closed, it means we are home and want our privacy. Are you freaking kidding me? He is telling Brad and I the rules of the house and what we should do with our bedroom door? Maybe you're asking now, what was Brad saying about all this? Was he speaking up? Was Brad laying down the law? No, no and no. Because he wasn't around to witness any of this and he thought I was just being whiny and emotional as a result of the accident.

Let's add everything up now. I was missing out on a social life. I was spending time with Brad's roommate rather than Brad himself. Brad thought I was being dramatic about the roommate. I could not decorate or rearrange my new place. And the roommate was telling me the rules of the house that HE made.

I haven't even touched on his being a crazy Christian. Hey, who am I to judge, right? But when I started hearing things like, "Obama is a Muslim and he is feeding our country to the wolves" and that Oprah Winfrey is of the devil, I thought, who the hell is living here??!!! Why do I have to put up with this, and Brad does not? And just because I am a Christian, doesn't mean I want to discuss books of the Bible and my favorite Christian song with you, weirdo. This kid hasn't even heard of the band MUSE. God, help me!

Lastly, privacy. The kid does not know what it means. One day I found he had come into our bedroom to put our clean sheets on the bed...in like, making the bed, not just laying them on top of the bed. You may think that was a nice gesture, but I think it's very creepy. Even creepier is one time he told me that Brad is so small and he can't even fit in his shirts. I asked, "Oh, was Brad going to lend you a shirt for something?" He says, "No, it was in the dryer so I thought I would try it on." WHAT!!!??? By the way, he was IN my room at this time because he just decided to walk in as I was folding clothes. THEN, yes, there was something else, he grabs my G-STRING underwear, pinched between two fingers, and asked, "How do you fit in these things?"

The stories are endless but you get the idea. It was time to start getting creative and examine further carpool opportunities, or other ways of transportation after work. It was not yet time however to start looking for a car. I was not ready to get behind the wheel. I was not that desperate...yet.

King of Anything

Besides Sara Bareilles' amazing voice, I love this song and its sentiments.

What I feel when I hear this song:
1. Like a strong kick ass woman!
2.  I sing loud to "All my life I've tried to make everybody happy while I just hurt and hide waiting for someone to tell me that it's my turn to decide."
3. Empowered
4. Wish I learned to play the piano.
5. Hope that my little girls end up being strong women!

Signed,
Annie

On the Move

It has happened, we are one of those dreaded statistics out there that you hear about on NPR every morning. We are loosing our house and foreclosing because we have a dreaded ARM loan and our house is worth LESS than we owe on it. For two years we have tried to work with the bank to help us...applied for a home loan modifications, called them, researched federal programs, but the bank refuses to help. They want us to be diliquent on our loan and show financial distress. I guess that giving 70% of your income to your mortgage and draining your savings is not enough to prove that you need help. We tried to do things right and we kept paying the mortgage, yet apparently we should have just stopped. Well, that would have F'd our credit and how would we get qualified to move or buy a car (our car lease is up in March)? Now we find ourselves packing up 5 bedrooms, a 3 car garage..2,700 sq ft to move into 3 bedrooms and 2,000 sq ft. I am grateful for finding a house in a beautiful neighborhood. I am glad that it is one level and can fit my washer and dryer (many of the homes we looked at would not fit the high efficiency machines and I am quite attached to mine). I am excited about decorating with color. I am grateful to be up in civilization again...Newport/Costa Mesa. Yet, with all the positives I can't help but feel a dark could of sadness looming over me. I have started having panic attacks again. I find myself crying constantly. When one mother from school told me her son said he didn't want to go to Kindergarten next year because the twins would not be there I cried. When the twins closest little friend found out we were moving and went and sulked and stared out the window I cried. When I look around at my house...torn up and furniture gone I choke up and cry. I see the work and love we have put into this home I cry. Realizing that we will not be back on this PERFECT street, with loving and caring neighbors and friends I cry. The husband doesn't understand my "depression and mopieness" and thinks I should be excited about the new prospects of moving. That makes me cry more. Of course there are positives, as stated above, but now in these moment of transition I am mostly sad. Typing now I cry. Wiping tears away quickly so the little people won't see them. I try to be strong and happy for them. 

I'm going to miss my friends here. I am going to miss the kid's friends. I am going to miss my home. The holidays are going to be off. I dumped most of the decorations. I don't have the desire to celebrate. All I want to do is crawl in a hole and sleep through the whole season. Avoid all the happy people buying shit. Instead I will suck it up and be strong for the family...this is what I do.

Trying to stay strong,

Annie

The First Car Ride

My accident was on a Thursday and I was back at work on Tuesday. Without a vehicle, Brad had to drive me to and from the office. After a traumatic weekend, pretty much apart, it was very interesting to be stuck in a car with him for an hour on the way to work (yes, LA traffic turns a 10 minute drive into an hour drive). We really did not have much to say to each other. He did not ask me if I was ready for work, nor did he ask me how I was generally feeling. And I was on edge because the morning commute was dramatically bringing back memories of the accident. Every move Brad would make, I was like, "Brad, don't. That's too fast. Don't break so hard. Ah, watch out. You didn't come to a complete stop..." Now it was he, who was on edge.
The first car ride of many for the next two months. It is interesting what developed of our relationship as a result.

I ended up getting a ride home that night from a girl at work.

Signed,
marcieanna

Accident 2010

On August 5, 2010, I did a few things I do not normally do. These last minute decisions nearly cost me my life.

At 8:15a, my stray from the normal routine began when I picked up the call from my friend, Sabrina, and said, "Let me call you back" so that I instead could call another best friend and co-blogger, Annie, about relationship troubles and concerns. Sabrina was a little put off because, after all, we talked every morning at this time and what could be more important.

Annie asked, "Well, did you end up going to the gym?" because just the night before I had blogged that I didn't feel like it and that I need the drive to go. Ah, fellow bloggers! After a few laughs, I began to share my concerns with Annie that Brad is a workaholic and could very much end up an absent father if we have kids. As I was talking, I was still capable of noticing my surroundings, admiring the mansions I drove past. I even began imagining myself being a lonely mother and wife inside one of them. I even had the thought I better call Sabrina back. Despite all of these distractions, though, I stopped at every stop sign, slowed down for the kids crossing the street, used my turn signals. And then Annie started making some really good points and while I was listening, I somehow decided to take a completely new, and unfamiliar route to work.

Honestly, though, I would not necessarily say I was distracted by the conversation, because for one year I was commuting nearly 120 miles a day on several different freeways, and was always on the phone, and texting, and emailing. This accident was not caused by being on the phone, nor being distracted.

But there were some conditions that are questionable- questions regarding my surroundings, the fog, the massive construction, and where the cop car was going when he barreled into me.

I had slowed to a near stop before I decided that I needed to make a left turn to get up on Sunset from Sepulveda Blvd. I kept checking back in my rear view mirror because there actually was not a turn lane, and I was scared that as I was coming to a stop to turn, the red car tailing closely behind would rear-end me. Ironically, in trying to avoid one accident, I was faced, quite literally, with another.

I started my left, but when I say started, I mean I barely turned the wheel when in the opposite lane, out of nowhere, fast came a vehicle, straight in my direction. If I close my eyes I can still see it like it just happened a second ago. I can see the nose of the black vehicle. I can remember thinking, I'm dead. I did not see it coming. I did not see the cop coming. I just saw the very moment we were going to smack right into each other- HEAD ON. And then there it happened. CRUNCH. BANG. SMASH. We hit so hard that my car flew backwards and ended up hitting that red car behind me, before my car then spun around and ended up in the cop's lane at least 3/4 mile up from where we collided. Annie must have heard everything, so I kept mumbling to her, "I'm in an accident. I'm in an accident". Even just mumbling hurt. Everything hurt. My head, my face, my lip, my eye, my knee, my foot, my back, my arms, my legs. The air bags saved my life, but they also banged me up pretty good, too. Luckily, I did not have my sunglasses on because I ended up getting a bruised eye and lip from the air bag hitting me in the face. A good chunk of skin came off of my knee, too, and it looked like someone took a knife and tried to carve my knee cap out. I had leggings on and they were indeed torn at the knee. I even found a bit of the cloth tangled in the bloody skin that was dangling. That part really scared me, i think, more than the accident itself...ok, maybe not.

Not realizing I HIT a cop, I saw the officer and cried out, "Officer, officer, I'm in an accident. Help". Of course he didn't come towards me because he was suffering from the shock, too. But again, I didn't realize he was who I hit. I managed to hobble out of the car and crawl to the curb. It was then I understood what happened and I began to panic and weep. The officer came over and tried to calm me down. He was ok. Not a scratch. Nothing. But you see the pictures, look at his vehicle.

Then the future flashed before my eyes. I saw my totaled car. I understood that I had this new job and I couldn't afford a car payment and insurance since this car from the accident was a loaner from my dad and under his insurance. I saw financial crisis ahead. I realized I could no longer plan a wedding. I wondered how I was going to get to and from work every day. And then I panicked that my dad was going to be mad at me. I wondered why my life had been spared in yet another accident. I wondered why God didn't let me die in this one. I was a little in hysterics.

I somehow managed to call Annie to tell her I was alive. I managed to call my dad and apologize, (he still thinks I'm crazy for even being sorry when all I had was to be thankful for being alive). I called Brad's parents who live down the street from the scene of the accident. I called work to say I wasn't coming in. I called Sabrina back, except not in the condition I thought I would be in. She said she knew something was up when I didn't even call her back, not even for a second before we both had to be into work.

The hospital released me after diagnosing that I had only bruised ribs and a sprained foot. They barely even dressed my knee because they had bigger fish to fry. I thought how lucky I was, for sure, even though when I got home I saw the bruised eye, the swollen lip, the burns on the back of my thighs (like SEVERE rug burn), the heavily bruised and swollen pelvic area, and the deep cuts on my chest. Looking in the mirror made me cry again.

For three days Brad's parents nursed me back to physical and somewhat mental health. His mom bathed me, his dad (who is a doctor) tended to my knee every day and redressed my wounds...but...Brad...where was Brad in all this...working...Brad was working and let his parents take care of me. Had I not just been saying before the accident that he is never around, and saying that after just living with him a few days. But even in the midst of this crisis, he showed up to the scene of the accident, he didn't say a word, but he made sure I got to the hospital, and then he was back at work, and came home late from work the next three nights.

My family was even around, but not Brad. My dad drove down immediately from 6 hours up north. My sister came up with her husband and my mom. Even Brad's sister and her family came to check on me. But no Brad. The one person I wanted close, was not.

And those three nights after my accident, when he did come home, he still did not say a word. I don't think he knew how to cope with the trauma. I was having nightmares, I was pretty out of it, but around him, I was tough and that toughness, he interpreted that that meant I didn't want to talk about things and that I was ok. But inside, I was so tormented. I started to think about how I had gone off the path I had always taken. How I had done the same by moving in with Brad. I started to wonder if this was punishment, or a wake up call for moving in with him. All these thoughts, all the emotion, all the trauma...spiraled into a sever depression....and I'll end it here for tonight...

Signed,

Marcieanna

I GET KNOCKED DOWN, AND I GET UP AGAIN

Let's try this blog again.

Since my last blog, life has really changed (as if it had not changed enough this summer with the new job, the engagement, and the new living situation). Those were positive changes, at first. Now, I wonder if they were all bad decisions. I wonder if someone (God, maybe) is trying to tell me something...

I say that because immediately following my move-in with Brad, I have suffered some serious blows. I get knocked down, and just when I get up, I get knocked down again, then back up again, and so on...

Until today, I don't think I have been ready to share any of it. It's not that things are getting better, I think they are actually getting worse, which is why I'm desperate for words of encouragement. I think maybe writing about it will help. It always has in the past.

I don't want to dump everything out in this one blog. I think I will go back to where I left off and bit by bit, blog by blog, record what has happened in chronological order. It will be somewhat like therapy, I hope, to revisit the events of the recent past and face it all over again.

In summary, there has been a car accident, post traumatic stress, depression, relationship strain, fraud on my bank account, a recent robbery in my home, more relationship strain, finding out my ex is married with a newborn baby, insane job stress, and bankruptcy (which I'm not ashamed to admit).

So let's go back now in time...August 4th was my last blog, when I was trying to get up the strength and will-power to go to the gym. It is so crazy, that the very next day, the downhill slide began.The very next morning, August 5th, I called up my fellow blogger, Anne-Marie, and she asked, "Well, did you get to the gym..." I shared that indeed I got there, and that blogging about it actually helped. Then as we started to discuss some personal stuff that I probably would have blogged about that evening...the unthinkable happened...SCREECH, BANG, SMASH!!!! I was in an accident...and that's exactly what I mumbled to Anne-Marie who was on the phone and heard everything. Then the line went dead...

It's a miracle, that that's all that went dead that day, and that it wasn't me, nor the cop I smashed into. My car, the cop's car, hit nose to nose. It was a head on collision. A Dodge Charger and a Saturn. Both automobiles smashed all the way to their windshields.

I want to write more about this tomorrow, and i hate to leave you hanging now, but I want to revisit this when I can upload the photo of what my car looked like. Only then can you fully grasp what occured on August 5th, the day after my last blog.

All I wanted to say tonight is that...though I keep getting knocked down, here I am, back up again...and ready to share with you...hopefully by doing so, it will help change the course of events...

Signed,

M

Expectations

In this up and down emotional state that I am in recently I have come to the realizations that I need to start managing my expectations. The expectations of not only myself but of others. So I'm trying to expect less of myself...less than perfection. Why do I have to have a clean house? Fuck it. Why do I need to be up to date on pop culture? Fuck it. Why do I need to be the calm mom all the time with the kids? Fuck it. Why do I need to always comply? Fuck it. Why do I need to care so much about what others think of me? Fuck it. If I screw up and disappoint all those around me, that's life. If I've changed and you don't like it, FUCK YOU.

Others, I expect a lot of you. I expect a lot from friends and even more from family. I realized that I put unrealistic expectations on how I want others to function in their lives. If I expect perfection from myself it does not mean others have to as well. So FUCK IT! If you don't call me back I am not going to assume you're upset with me. If you don't do the fucking dishes that are staring at your face, I don't care. Maybe you're going blind? If you walk away from me, I don't care. Possibly you didn't hear me. And so on.

On a positive note I am also learning to appreciate my friends more than ever. I am recognizing that I NEED them in my life. I can see that these women in my life (you know who you are) I cannot survive without. They are my foundation. They are my strength. Thank you. I don't say that enough. Thank you for your continued support. Thank you for your acceptance. Thank you for your advice. Thank you for standing by me and never letting me fall too low. I don't think I could survive without your love.

Fucking it all,
Annie

Hope none of you are too offended by the 9x's I said Fuck in this post. Now 10x's.

rUn

I have been considering running away. To shirk all the responsibilities of being a mom, wife, homeowner....of being an adult. Do you have those days that  you just want to rewind the clock and go back to zero responsibility? All I've done my whole life is the RIGHT thing the RESPONSIBLE thing. I have made decisions that made sense I have walked the path of least resistance. It's boring. It's busy. It's full but not fulfilling. Always told what to think or how to act. Following the 'normalcy' of what's expected by society, our white American Christian culture. I'm fed up with it. I find myself screaming at the TV newscasters, at the idiots that supposedly run our country, at the ridiculous parents that give their little ones every god damn thing they whine for. I find myself irritated at those that don't think for themselves, that follow the crowd, that attempt to please everyone. I do this because I see reflections of myself in them and in their actions. I look inside with disgust at that part of my soul. I want to be who I am. This past year has been an evolution of Annie. I have been rolling around fighting against the ties that link me to the past and find that I can't cut them away. Their like those annoying weeds in my garden that just keep coming back...I cut the past away and it creeps back in...The judgement, the rigidity, the insecurity, the self doubt. 

So I fantasize...A small one room hut somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Thailand or in Fiji...only beauty to look at, the ocean to listen to...away from everyone and everything. No responsibility. No judgement. No past and no future. I want to stay there for a little while. Maybe a week or a month. I want to let nature revitalize me. I want to let my mind and heart quiet down for a few moments. But alas, I can't go. In reality I can't leave and I cannot run away.

What I can do is RUN. I want to run. A run from this house, my cage, up the hill and into the trails. Be there with nature for a minute. Escape. Then I'll 'U' turn and come back home. A run is what I need. Run away and then run back.

Running,

Annie

Should be...

I'm Hot. 

I have moved my super awesome iMac to the front living room aka my office/library/entry way/the only kid empty area of the entire house.

The point was to concentrate. Well actually it was to be able to talk on Skype without the interruption (eruption) of little people. Instead THEY all followed me out here...3 little people and one larger person. AHHHHHHHHH. PLEASE give me 30 minutes to talk to my friends that live on the other side of the planet!!!!! Is this too much to ask. answer: YES. In the end they left me alone for a few and that was nice.

Back on point. Now I sit here in my quiet room, glass of wine as my only companion and pandora kicking some great tunes and I'm loving this moment.
EXCEPT that I should be working.
I should be writing my story.
I should be concentrating.

I don't want to. Bah! I don't want to 'SHOULD' do anything at the moment.

So there!

Signed,
Annie, the "Rebel" (well at least for the next few minutes while I find a cool pic for this post)

A few random thoughts today...

Will regret ever go away? All of my family is in San Francisco moving my brother and his girlfriend into their new home together. These 25-year-old kids forging out on their own makes me long for those days after college where the world was my playground...the possibilities endless... It also brings up my old friend, regret. The hindsight of wishing I had done things different back then. Chose another path. But what can you do? Nothing. The reality is I live where I am and I am who I am because of the path I chose. Now what am I going to do with it? Keep traveling? Find another road? Not sure. For now I am holding strong. Looking deep within and finding strength and confidence I never knew I had.

Does therapy work? I've been in therapy on and off for 11 years. Sure it has helped me clarify many issues in my past and has helped me reframe thing currently in my life. BUT is it effective in breaking unhealthy patterns in a relationship? Basically, my therapist told me no this week. He thinks you can find the humor in the patterns, learn to laugh about  yourself and your partner. Not in a negative way but in such a manner as not to take yourself or the relationship too serious. I guess I am going to try this. I may be too serious of a person. *sarcastic laugh*

Does sexting make things HOT? YES. BUT look out cause the man on the other end is going to want it when he gets home! It's all fun and games until you actually have to put out. AND look out if you both have iphone 4 because things get interesting with face time. I will leave it at that.

Signed,
Annie

Cleaning Lady

I know I am spoiled. I accept that fact and own it::::: I have not cleaned my house in over 6 years. I've paid for someone else to clean it, but I personally have not scrubbed this place top to bottom.

I mean why would I do anything myself when I have a CEO husband that is essentially my Sugar Daddy? Well, that would be a nasty little thing called a RECESSION. "They" say the recession has ended, yet if I have to fire my house cleaners and do it myself I certainly think there is still a recession going on. H-e-l-l-o! This past weekend was the first time I had to do all 2,700 square feet on my own. It sucked plain and simple. Swiriling toilet bowls, mopping piss, and scrubbing hard water stains is not my idea of a relaxing weekend. I tried to enter into my new role as housecleaner with a get 'er done attitude. Quickly it morphed into I-hate-this-fucking-shit-hole, and why is my family so disgusting and where-are-my-rubber-gloves kind of sucky attitude. I kept thinking to myself, how can one week produce this much grime and dirt? Holy cow...it's like cows live in here! 

So after 2.5 hours of cleaning I still hadn't finished. The upstairs is yet to be vacuumed (I vote to just rip the carpet out all together. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt bacteria is living in there!). Trash cans still need to be emptied and cleaned (how can 3 trash bins get filled up to the point of overflowing with floss, dirty q-tips and snotty kleenex, so quickly?). I hadn't even touched the laundry room. Once upon a time my cleaners would wipe down the machines, mop the floors and scrub out the sink for me. NOT ANY MORE!!!!

By the end of the two hours I was stripped down to my bra and boxer shorts dripping sweat, using the word 'fuck' as an adjective AND a verb, and every muscle in my body hurt. Pretty much I am out of shape and out of practice of cleaning. Ugh. I am going to try cleaning to a playlist next week and hope that helps me make it through with a better attitude. Until then "I HATE THIS FUCKING SHIT HOLE OF A HOUSE and I NEED TO BUY SOME RUBBER GLOVES."

Signed,

The new cleaning lady Annie

(please stay tuned for my next post  about my dinosaur body)

I love :: I hate

Two crazy people I know have inspired me to compile a list. They like to make lists on their blog [[that I not ashamed to say that I stalk.]]  So I said to myself, "Self, you can do that too!" So here we go....






A few things on my mind lately...


I LOVE_____
1. When I get it right
2. When I can inspire the kiddos to learn by doing simple art projects. This then makes them think that I am brilliant.
3. When I am brilliant.
4. Silence. Early morning just before dawn and late night when the house creaks under the pressure of darkness.
5. Working.
6. My kiddos voices. (Not "pretend" voice because that tends to be shrill and annoying. Find this as #3 below)
7. Learning.
8. Hearing the baby laugh and then fart at the same time.
9. When FB posts make me laugh out loud...literally! (Thank you Kid and Sassy)
10. Keeping this list to 10.

I HATE_____
1. Missed opportunities.
2. Poopy pants.
3. Shrill voices, like nails on a chalkboard.
4. Drivers in their oversized SUV's...wait I am one of those people. Does this mean I hate myself? Hmmm?
5. Stubbing my toes, which happens ALL the time. I'm surprised I still have all 10.
6. Glenn Beck.
7. When my hair is frizzy. When my hair is dry. When hair grows in unwanted areas. (like those two on my chin) Ugh. I hate hair!
8. Feeling inadequate and disrespected.
9. Laundry or any other chore that requires my attention on a daily basis.
10. Being disorganized.


Side Note: I have been off my blog for a few weeks trying to assimilate into working, school, and fall busy mode so I know I neglected you. But I am back. Going to try and keep up with at least one post a week. You know what they say..."one post a week with keep the mental illness away." Of course we all know that xanex, lexapro, tequila and wine actually are the real things that keep the crazies away, but blogging about my mundane life helps too.

Signed,
Annie

Questions about God.

Tonight I had an interesting conversation with my five-year old twins. They are very curious and inquisitive about everything in life. I attempt to always answer their questions with honesty and sensitivity. I love how their minds work and the incredible amount of information that they are able to retain in those developing brains of theirs.

So tonight we had a discussion about God, Jesus, flying, thunderstorms, dragons and rainbows. It all began when my little guy asked if Jesus could fly and walk on water because he was from heaven. I asked what he thought about that (a great trick to deflect answering a questions you don't have the answer to). He said, "Of course he can do anything." I said that is true. He followed up with, "Are all the things in the bible true?" (We have been having a lot of discussions about fiction vs. fact and fantasy vs. reality as of late. For instance Buzz Light Year is a character and therefor not real. Or Dinosaurs did live on the earth and were real even though they are all dead now. So you get the idea of what is bouncing around in this kids head. He is sorting out his world and trying to make sense of it in very black and white terms.) I responded to his question by saying, "the bible has many truths and some really great things to teach us." He pressed the question again by telling me that, "huge thunderstorms happen and one time God sent a rainbow to say he would never do it again." I told him that was true. He became serious and told me that all the people that lived in the bible are dead and he wanted to know why. I tried to explain that people do not live for thousands or millions of years but rather for like 90 or 100 years. It has been thousands of years since the biblical times, so yes they are all dead. I tried to explain how this is a natural process and that it is ok. But I wanted to be careful to not go down the road of "everyone dies." I could tell that little man was getting troubled. He wanted to understand and he wanted to make sense of it all.

His sister jumped in and with all the authority she could muster stated, "the bible is truth." It worked and the little man moved onto asking where God lived and how can he be in my heart. (Oh great! He is going for it tonight, I thought. I had made a point of never saying the favorite Christian phrase "he lives in your heart" to my kids. But certain, ahem, family members decided to take it upon themselves to lay out this whole ridiculous metaphor. Now how in the hell do you undo something like that and explain a metaphor to a 5 year old?  Answer: YOU DON'T!!!! So I did what I had previously in the conversation and threw the question back in the little man's court. He paused a moment and said, "He is God and he can do what he wants and be where he wants." I smiled and said, "yup".

Anyhow this entire conversation got me thinking. Or more so it got me back on a subject I have been thinking on for sometime....the facts of the Bible and Christianity. I was taught that those words written on those pages were infallible, utter and complete truth. They are God's words written on paper, not to be questioned and to be followed to the letter. I lived that way for sometime...well a LONG time..too long. Now in the past two years I really wonder about all that. Seven day creation story? Burning bushes? God writing on tablets? Flood? An arch carrying every animal species? Walking on water? Come on. Could these have been oral traditions/parables told and passed down to teach an idea, a moral or ethical way of living? Probably yes. Do I look at the Bible as black and white truth, um pretty much no. So when my kids come to me and want black and white answers and are trying to sort out their world I really am stumped. I want them to keep the wide eyed wonder of childhood but I don't want them growing up being naive like I did. I want them to take the lessons of the bible....loving others, ethics, morals, kindness, the idea of a greater power-God, a savior-Jesus, and become giving and caring adults. I want them to think for themselves and come to their own conclusions about spirituality. I don't want to force feed them. So I am left with the struggle of instilling these principals while not lying to them about my own doubts and ideas about the bible, God, and religion.

Signed,
Walking the tight rope, Annie

PS. I forgot to ad that the little man also asked me if dragons were real. I would have said no, but a few months back I watched a Discovery Channel documentary about how they probably did exist. Holy fuck, who knew!?!?!

?

I feel the need to write, yet I don't seem to have much to say. I am coming off a difficult two weeks (see above post). I am in the midst of preparing for a busy fall with school for the kids, their activities, my work, and house chores. Then the holidays are practically around the corner. Life seems to move too fast these days. I can't keep up or seem to get everything done that I want to. When did it all start to become such a rush all the time? The hurry up anxiety of life...

A few things on my mind of late...(1) My twins are becoming their own people. They don't rely on me like they once did. I am proud of that. On the other hand I am sad that they are moving forward...one day they will be adults, I will be older and with a few more grey hairs, they will be having adventures and living life and I will quietly wait to hear from them. In some ways I want to freeze them and their brains in this moment of their innocence. (2) Do we need all the shit we have? I recently read an article about the founder of Toms shoes, Blake Mycoskie. In it he spoke about how he sold most of his personal belongings and his home and moved onto a boat. He wanted a simpler life. I am feeling that I need that in my life...(3) Why is that when some things are going so well in your life other areas start suffering? Is this because I can't find balance? The juggling of roles, duties, and self are difficult. I am not sure I am very good at it. Honestly, when working one of my areas that always needed improvement was multi-tasking. BUT, now after three kids I think I am getting better at it. (though I admit that the laundry, dishes, closets always seem to suffer from a constant state of NEEDING TO BE DONE/ORGANIZED). (4) I need to start taking better care of myself. I am good at reminding others that they need to love and take care of their bodies, but I don't listen to my own advice. When I am stressed or depressed or on the rag I don't bother to wash my face, eat right, take vitamins, exercise...pretty much I just mope around. I want to start eating more raw veggies and fruit. I want to get my garden back in shape so I can harvest more of our own. Maybe even start composting. (5) Time to myself I need more and more. I have taken a job and that gives me something to do outside of my family. Now I need to carve out sometime to think...I only get a few minutes each day while going to the bathroom (and that is interrupted a lot of the time by little people). A few weeks back I took two hours to go sit at the beach and just listen, look, write. It was healing and it was refreshing. Somehow I need more of that. Possibly taking a run in the early hours of morning is when I should do it...

Overall I want to try and slow down. To embrace the small moments. To plan but still be spontaneous. Try to let go of anxiety and worry about the future. Let myself be who I am and what I am in the moment I am living...

Signed
Annie

Weepy Days

It's been one of those emotional roller coaster days. (I've written about that before on here). I think for me writing about a bad day helps it seem less powerful. It helps me to take back control. I like control. When I feel that I am not in control of myself or my emotions...I have a hard time. I cannot think straight, write straight, or focus.

Today started just like any other day...early morning wake-up, coffee, kids complaining. I was hopeful for a  good day. Then those little rascals started in on me...the nagging, complaining and fighting. By 12:30 pm I had lost it. We had been to the doctors where I had to my EXTREME embarrassment the kid had a HUGE shart in his pants during his exam. Then he threw a complete and utter fit over his shots. On the way out we stopped at the bathroom and he pissed. No poo, just piss (this is important to note as the later part of this story this is a key point).

We then hit my LEAST favorite place on this green earth, Walmart. Besides my  utter disdain for this god forsaken store we had to get a bunch of stuff for our impending trip. While in the store the kids fight, bounce on and off the cart all while the baby trys to climb out of her restraint. The boy again makes a trip to the bathroom in the middle of shopping. (Again only piss. This while I had a fully cart of shit and a baby and another kid to worry about. I did what I never have...sent him in alone to the restroom. I just could not handle unloading everyone. He said he had no poop.) By the time we get to the car I realize he has another shart, so I proceed to clean him up in the car. This is not ideal...a 5 year old has a smelly butt!

Next we hit a local surf shop. This time I strapped the baby on. Let the twins follow me around in the store. Of course they decided to hide in the racks and run like idiots all around the store. Then the boy screamed that his poo was about to fall out his butt. In rushing him to the bathroom we left the girl. I get him on the toilet and leave him there to go find the girl. Of course she is weeping. I am sweating and stressed. We get back to the bathroom that is full of boxes and employee piss. The baby then takes her pacie out and chucks it into the mop bucket. (fuck that, I am not getting it). The boy takes his sweet time getting his log out. Finally, we get the shit out of the way.

Finally, we go to Costco. I had to buy so many large items I could not have the twins in the cart....NEVER again will I go there with them NOT in the cart. The entire time they fought. I even ran the boy over with the cart. The baby again tried to climb out. The checker reprimanded my brats for their bad behavior. I tried to breathe. My stress level was rising to a panic attack.

On the way home the screamed, yelled, and spit at each other. I in turn raised the volume of the radio. The baby screamed from hunger. She refused her snack and threw it in the car. Somehow that gave the twins permission to start chucking their food around the car. I SCREAMED to stop. They laughed. I again tried to breathe. By the time we were rolling up to the drive way they had unbuckled from the car seats....I FLIPPED. (note: NEVER, never have I ever yelled, screamed bloddy murder at my children before). I screamed, swear words and all at them. I sent them to their rooms, shut the doors, and threatened death if they came out. I left them there an hour.

I cried. I weeped. I just lost it. I had those terrible feelings of guilt. I had lost it. Completely lost it. What would they think of me? I cannot even control myself, how can I expect them to do it?

I finished the rest of the day crying here and there for all different reasons...a dropped utensil, not being able to reach my husband by phone...Then I went into critiquing my life...what a bad house keeper I am, how I don't love my kids enough, how I am fucking them up, why I should have never gone back to work, why I can't seem to handle motherhood...It just kept spiraling....Even now I sit here in the dark, drink in hand and tears flow....I am a mess.

I try, I try so hard and it never seems to be enough....

I apologized to the kids. I saw the sadness in their eyes... It broke my heart. Tonight I take a big deep breath and try to start again new tomorrow.

weepy,
Annie

PS. I am not going to proof read this post, sorry, I think it will be too hard to read over it.....

Weepy Annie

Robby

With Robby, 2004. Only child.

I complain a lot about my dog Robby. Unfortunately, he has become the sixth wheel in this family. He used to be priority number one back in 2000. He was the life of this little family, but now he is ONLY the dog. It doesn't help much that he has become a complete and utter pain in the ass! Running out the front door, down the street and into my poor neighbors yards (taking a dump there sometimes) or running into his favorite house...201. Then there is when someone comes to the door he attacks them with jumps, scratches, and panting...mind you all meant to show his love for said person. Most people find it utterly annoying and painful. I just want to drop kick the dog to Tijuana. It's horrible I know...I really am an animal lover! But Robby is getting on my nerves.

Then this weekend we had a scare with him. We woke up to him shitting out red blood on our bedroom carpet and pillow shams (I am so happy about the red stain on my green Calvin Klein sham. I am truthfully thankful that it was not my period blood making the stain.) He then started acting lethargic and quivering. He went out into the garden and laid down in the dirt as if to die. I thought he was going to die. He was clearly in pain and I didn't know what to do. Finally, I convinced the husband to take him to the vet. He had to stay there all day on an IV. Turns out he had colonitus aka bad diarrhea and was subsequently dehydrated. Now he is fine, back to his annoying self.

Now, after the death scare, I have realized just how much I love the blood pooping, jumping, run down the street pain in my ass dog. I realized I would miss all that if he was gone. I would miss the fact that he cuddles on the couch with me. Gives me kisses on my feet when I am feeling down. That he knows me....he knows when I need a little tender love, even if it is from a dog. So I am glad he didn't kick the bucket.

In puppy love,
Annie

Life Could be a Dream

It helps that this is where I work...not too shabby.

I have a new and welcomed role in my life...my part-time job. I guess I am a writer now. Well, in a certain sense...I make Facebook posts and write blurbs on a blog. Hey, don't snicker this is no joke...companies need 'Social Media' Coordinators, Managers, writers....I am one of those people. It is a new era in marketing/PR and for better or worse it includes the Social Media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, and Blogger. (Good thing I started this blog, it gave me street cred.)

So three weeks in and I am feeling good. Finding my footing and enjoying the process of working. I like having something that is all mine. It is not defined by my role as a mother or as a wife...it is simply mine. Oh, how I needed that in my life. One of my friends said to me, "I lost something of myself in Motherhood." That is exactly how I fell, like a part of me or all of me was lost into Motherhood. This is because I have given myself TOTALLY and completely over to it. I know that it is a good thing yet somehow I didn't hold on to any of who I was...who I am...who I am becoming. So now, through work, I reclaim it. I take back ME. I am finding that doing this for myself is bringing a renewed sense of purpose into my life. I feel confidence coming back, I feel pride, I find more patience with the kids, I see life filled with hope...all this because for the first time in a very long time I am happy.

The job itself has wonderful perks. For instance last night I took one of my best friends of 15 years out for a girls night on the town. We went to the most popular hot spot in Laguna, The Rooftop, for drinks then over for dinner at a new restaurant finished off by a show at the Laguna Playhouse. We had an incredible amount of fun. We chatted about life...we enjoyed a lot of laughs. I kept saying to her, "I cannot believe this is my job! We are out in a beautiful city, eating amazing food, watching the theater and it is all for FREE and it is my job!" The show we saw was perfectly titled, 'Life Could be a Dream.' And it's true, when you decide to take control and change what you are unhappy about in your life it can be a dream!

Signed the working lady,
Annie

Pandora Saves

When I am having one of those moments where I am feeling down and don't really know why, I turn on Pandora, my Cannonball station. When I am feeling like dancing I turn to my Justin Timberlake station. Then there is my everyday station, Broken Bells. I am simply in love with Pandora because I can match my music to my mood or change my mood with my music, if I so please. 

Using music to soothe and heal the soul has always helped me. Since I have no musical talent of my own, I love to listen to the creations of true musicians. The soothing voices, melodies, the strum on a guitar, or the beautiful tones of the piano. I am not real picky about my music...I know what I like and what I don't...

If it moves me I try to listen over and over. In this chaotic house filled with little voices and activity 98.9% of the day music is one of the only things I can control...and I DO! Maybe someday the kids will tell a story of how the music they heard in the background of their childhood somehow helped them...to process...to heal...to touch the soul...to alter a mood...to challenge them to create...that it somehow inspired...

Signed,

Annie

The Gym

I don't want to go. The work day is temporarily over, not quite because later I have to go home and do some research reading. But in between I could, I should, go the gym. It was on my schedule yesterday but I wimped out because I had plans every night this week until Sunday. But tonight my plans got cancelled and my gym bag is still in the car. I have clothes. But I don't want to. I could even go to a spin class right now and make it home in time to watch SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE. So that's not an excuse NOT TO GO. But then right now I'm writing this and I should be getting in my car to make it to spin class by 6:45. I can sign off right now and still get there in time, so I can't make an excuse that my blog is keeping me from going. In times likes these I let my reflexes take control. When I start to drive out of the parking lot, we'll see which way my hands steer the wheel. Will it be in the direction of the gym? Or in the direction of home and the television. I keep thinking of my thighs. I keep thinking of my stomach that I want to be flat (some days it is). I keep thinking of the beach this weekend and how it would be nice for me to be confident that I went to the gym this past week. I keep thinking about the cereal I just ate for a snack. I keep thinking how there are women who are 40 that look better than me. Ok, now I have five minutes to get there in time. I have a feeling...oh, who knows...I was going to say I have a feeling I'm going to make it to the gym, but then I always have a feeling and it's the exact opposite.
I sign off now and we'll see if I go work toward making my body look A LITTLE better.

The "Witching-Shit-Spiral-Meltdown" Hour

There is a time in every day that happens when all things go to hell...It all crumbles to nothing. I am sure this happens in everyone's life. Back in my single/working days it was that last hour of the work day when the clock seemed to slow down and stop, when all I could do was stare at the seconds ticking by until I could run out of the four walls of my office. But now there is a whole new meaning to the "Witching Hour..."

3pm hits and the signs begin to show themselves...a scream, a punch in the face, or a jail break out the front door...the kids have become demons.  I take a deep breath and deal with the offender. I give myself a pat on the back for handling things so calmly. Then not even 5 minutes later another one of the demons creeps into the room and decides to throw a toy at the baby's head. Or maybe scream, "You are on my naughty list and I am not talking to you ever again!" I hit my limit at this point and blow my lid right off. No more calm and collected....I become one of the demons. I hate myself for this. I don't want to be irritated by the never ending "Mommy," "I need", "I want", or the all time most used word in this house "NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" The reality is I can only take so much and I do become irritated which then leads to an utter breakdown in the house. Everyone is tired and crying and we barely push through to make it to bed time. This happens pretty much happens each night. I usually crash at about 8pm on the couch with some kind of liquor and veg out, utterly exhausted...depleted and so wiped out I don't have the energy to even talk.

I wish that things were easier but the reality is this: Life is not easy. All you can do is embrace it all. Even in the times of chaos and meltdowns you have to take it all in. Nothing last forever and this stage will pass into something new (hopefully less irritating). For now, in the midst of the Shit Hour, I take a deep breath AND crack open a cold one. (Hey, you gotta survive the stage somehow! *hahahaha*)

Signed
Annie

Sometimes....I lock them out for just a moment of silence... *wink*

First Days of Living Together

I figured I might write a follow up quickly to my last blog in case some of you were curious how it is going....
Surprisingly great! I guess that's what happens when you almost spend every night together. My toothbrush was already there, same with my shavers and creams and shampoo. All the bathroom rituals of getting ready together have pretty much been in place for the last six months since we have had so many sleepovers during the work week. And it definitely helps that he doesn't have to be at work until 10a, sometimes 11a, which means he's always sleeping when I'm out the door, or he's just getting into the shower if he has to go in early. So we have the getting ready thing situated already, probably always have, and probably always will.
Also, he let me come in to his home and sort of take over and he's happier with how the place looks now as a result. All the things he dreaded doing, I did for him and we're both happy.
And now my kitty kitty is there and we're like one big happy family...Even with the roommate- did I mention that- yes, he has a roommate living there! A kid from Biola University. First I called him the Crazy Christian, but he's a good kid after all. He even just started dating the hottest girl on the show "PRETTY LITTLE LIARS" - Lucy something. I guess she's a Christian and he met her at Coffee Bean, bought her a coffee, she told Ryan Seacrest on the air that she met this really cute guy and that she hopes he calls her, he heard that on the radio, called, and now they've been on some dates. So the last few days I've got to hear these fun stories. It makes living with him, too, FUN!
So all in all, the living situation thus far is a piece of cake. And to be honest, I don't think it is going to be difficult.
For starters, we're never home. I'm going out tonight with a bunch of friends. He's going to the gym. We'll get home maybe around the same time, love on each other a bit. I might try to watch an episode of THE TUDORS while he reads his VARIETY, and then it's time to go to sleep and the next few nights will be the same, really. And if I'm not with friends, we go out together with friends. Funny, but weeknights are our nights to be social.
So it will really be like we're still just spending the nights with each other, except now I won't have to pack my bags.
As for weekends, we pretty much spent them together anyway, a part from the brunch here and there with friends and the tennis or racquetball he played.
I think we have this down already. WOW! It's crazy to say that, but really, I think we are off to a great start.
Sorry if this was boring with no drama to tell. Guess I can say there is a benefit to moving in with someone when you're in your 30's - you're pretty much already in your routines, and the person you're with either has to accept it or not, end of story. There's always adjustment, but not much.
A big, WHEW! and AMEN!

Living Together

What do you do when you're in your 30s, you're seriously dating someone, you're having sleep overs (and obviously sleeping together)...and then the question comes up...do we live together. Well, let's add to the equation that we are somewhat conservative in our our Christian beliefs, but obviously not enough to warrant abstinence. This has been a huge issue in our dating relationship and I have gone back and forth with it. Some days I felt it was ok, and others I was far too scared of what people would think. I was scared of what my Christian friends would think. I was scared of what people at church would think. I was scared of what his parents would think. And then I realized, that isn't a reason not to do it, because then I'm right back where I was before when I was living what I felt was a lie and trying to be someone I knew I was not, but who others wanted me to be. In Christ, I believe I am, but I do not believe that I am a "sinner" because I want to live with my boyfriend.

The verdict...we would not live together before we were married...that is, until, of course, the day my roommate decided she was kicking me out because her boyfriend was moving in. Go figure! And they wanted the chance to be alone and get used to each other without Three's Company, as it would be more like Three's A Crowd.

Ok, this was stressful, considering that we had JUST literally decided we would NOT live together. And even though my boyfriend and I talked about getting married, there was no ring yet on my finger, and I was going to have to move with some stranger, or live in a hole-in-the-wall by myself, until the day I got married. After living in a big townhouse for two years, this was utterly depressing. And I felt it wasn't fair my boyfriend lives in a nice, big townhouse he OWNS, while I was going to have to keep hopping around from place to place until we got married.

If this wasn't stressful enough, next came the new job. Great job, my dream job, but with far less, and I mean FAR, FAR LESS pay than what I was making before. We're talking half the salary I was making before. Who can live like that in Los Angeles. Definitely not a divorced, 30-year-old with huge debt and several credit card bills to pay (this is a very sensitive subject for me, and difficult to share here but I did). So then came the question, how am I to live if I take this new job. Should I turn it down so I could afford to pay the bills? Could I find someplace to live RENT FREE? Was that possible? I think I was better off than this when I graduated college. YIKES.

Next thing you know, I'm engaged. To my surprise, this opened up the talks again of living together again. But the same issues came up as before...what would people think? What does God think? What are his conservative Lutheran parents going to think? 

I am going to stop right there, because that is literally where we stopped, for here is the thing. I'll be honest. We're two adults in our 30's. So together, as adults, we came to our conclusion. 

We want to get married and spend the rest of our lives together. Even though I was taking a huge pay cut, we both know the benefits this job will bring, the sky is the limit, unlike the ceiling of my last job. Also, I have my finances sorted out and I have everything under control. I've been in a debt management program, I have no new debt, I'm paying things off, BUT, if I had to find a new place to live, I would have to start using a credit card again to afford to live. We decided this did not make sense, not if we wanted to go into a new marriage on the right track. I am not about to make the same mistakes again as I did in my young, "Christian" marriage. So the conclusion is, we are going to live together. I will be rent free, and I can continue to pay off my debt and we can save money towards our wedding so we do not have to put anything on credit card. That is smart, financial planning. And to me that is Godly.

Now Christians can say, "God will provide, trust Him!" Yeah, I am trusting Him. I am trusting Him that He gave me a great man who loves me and who I am going to spend the rest of my life with and that our marriage is going to be strong, and what will help with that is living with this man before we get married while we continue to go to pre-marital courses, save money, and learn the steps NOW towards a very, happy, long-lasting marriage.

So last week the move was upon me (not quite the move-in, just the move of all my stuff). And I started to freak out and go into panic mode. Losing my independence again. Engaged, moving in together, we might as well be getting married on my move-in day because that basically begins us spending the rest of our lives together. Whoa! Huge deal for a divorcee, and someone who doesn't take the divorce lightly, but who desires nothing more than a happy, healthy, everlasting marriage. I started to think,  "As much as I love him, I want to take this one day at a time. Yes, this begins the rest of our lives together but we still can take time in this engagement. We can meet with our financial planner. We can take our time planning this wedding. This is just the next step. Slow down. Breathe. It's ok."

As I prepared everything for my move, as I put treasured memories in storage, as my wonderful darling put his things in storage to make room for me, as he opened up a side of his WALK-IN closet for me, as he cleared out drawer space for me, we both were nervous but hopeful and excited. 

Now moving day has come and gone. It was perfect. Easy. Piece of cake. My stuff fit in like the finishing piece of a puzzle. The place looks great. It looks like home. Cozy. Warm. Inviting.

And in just two days, I move myself and my cat in. My stuff is all there, but not me yet. It took a lot of prayer and planning and discussion to get to this moment. To some people this isn't that big of a deal, to others...IT IS. It is so looked down upon in Christian circles, but we are still taking this very seriously, even praying about it, and know that this decision is as significant as the decision to get married. For us, this means we are committed for life. I love him. I do. And he loves me. I am beyond elated that in two days, the man of my dreams and I will be...living together.

Where Did the Other Blogger Go?

New job. Newly engaged. Moving Out. Moving In. Already an advancement and new title at the new job. Good thing I wasn't carrying this blog myself or it would be lifeless. Instead, my partner has been moving this machine and doing a fantastic job at breathing such life into it. Her stories are ones we do not want to miss. She is pouring out her heart and soul to us and I find myself crying at times and feeling closer to her through reading these blogs than I ever have in our 13 years of friendship.
Anyway, this blog is just to say I hope I can make a comeback here and start blogging again. I sure have been journaling but haven't had the time at work to blog and then when I get home, I'm reading scripts for work, or was packing, or at some event, or at the gym, so I never found time to log on at night.
But I have work under control now and if anything I can at least take 10 minutes out of my day to share. I don't know how interesting my life is in comparison to my partner's but I'm definitely another character in our story.
I hope you can welcome me back.

Cheers to Me!

In a whirlwind of 6 days I put it out there to the Universe (and my good friend/mentor Lisa) that I was ready to get back into the workforce and now I find myself with a JOB! A real paying legitimate job.....with a desk, a title, AND perks! I have been out of the market for 5.5 years and in my first interview I nail it and get hired on the spot and start working the same day! I am so FUCKING stoked right now. I am beyond words excited. Jittery and full of excitement for what this opportunity holds! I believe, no in fact I KNOW, that this is what I needed. This has been the missing piece for me.

It's difficult when you find yourself with no purpose and no direction. When you feel like you are caught in the whirlpool of sameness. Now I can begin to see my way out. I have an outlet that is ALL MINE, not to be shared with children or husband. My attention can be focused on something outside of my ROLES at home. This I love. This I crave. This I need. This I will never let go of.

What does the future hold, I am not sure? Will this turn out to be a terrible fit and one I regret in a few months, maybe? Will it turn into something more that catapults me to a full time career, maybe? But in this moment I embracing it and holding onto the good feeling as long as it lasts. (Holding onto my wine too!)

So thank you to all of you (5 readers) for your support. I am sure I will have many interesting stories to tell about my experiences!

CHEERS to fucking me,
Annie

Dress Up

I think that I missed out on enjoying dress up as a kid, because these days I am LOVING it! It could be due to the fact that I mostly find myself in my "mom gear" (consisting of jeans, target t-shirt, hair in a pony, and flip flops). In my mom gear I am running around the OC doing errands to get crap for the family...the usual boring stuff. Every week my grocery list has the same thing on it....blah, blah, blah. So when my husband mentioned we were invited to the WORLD premier of the new movie SALT, I squealed with joy! This meant new clothes that did NOT consist of the mom gear, it meant jewelry, it meant make-up and hair, it meant sexy dress, shoes....

So last week I hit the mall and tried on about 20 different dresses (that was depressing in itself). I know, some of you are thinking, big deal Annie you are a skinny Bitch, but LISTEN I got my issues too! Can you say back acne at 32 (depressing!), large rib cage where I break zippers, bow legs, and ski slope toes that look lame in all kinds of shoes? Anyhow, I found a cute little black number and jazzed it up with what I call a "rockstar belt." I busted out my own shoes and jewelry to save money (my husband has no idea how much money I saved him! Oh, and he doesn't know how much I spent, I only told him how much he saved! This is a great tactic by the way.)

I admit I was nervous rolling up to the premiere at the theater, but I was also excited. The security guys just let us walk right through without even asking for our tickets!!! (Good to note for next time I decide to crash one of these swanky Hollywood gigs.) Anyhow I felt like a million bucks. I knew I was no one in this scene, but it sure didn't matter when I felt confidant about myself!! Amazing what a little make-up, hair spray, and a new dress will do for a gal!!!! And now I commit myself to more dress up time if for nothing other than an ego boost!

cheers!
Annie

Break

The past 5 days I have been preparing for a trip to a wedding in the bay area. I have been cleaning the house (5 bedrooms is no small task. This alone has taken every day chipping away at the endless dirt that accumulates daily), doing load after load of laundry, organizing all the children's shit so my family can find what they need, and prepping the kids for my absence. Each day we have talked about Mommy's trip and how she will be gone for 3 days. We have had to discuss "good behavior", "good choices", being kind, using manners, the appropriate place to go potty (not in our pants, jammies, or out on the lawn), how to help Auntie find everything she needs. I have also spent a few hours preparing the schedule for the kids, writing out a medical release form, copy my insurance card in case of emergency, printing the itinerary etc. Blah, blah, blah. I mean fuck, when did it become so hard to travel? The answer is simple, when I had KIDS, not just two, but three!!! One that is still in diapers and on a schedule! ARGH.

I can say at this point that it is exhausting! When do I pack or get myself prepped? Well, that would be between the hours of 9 to 12pm. Mixed with the frustration of preparing for this relatively quick trip away is a BIG dose of GUILT! Each time I have had to have the above conversation with the kids I feel so guilty about wanting a BREAK and wanting to LEAVE. I am consumed about getting away...to have an adult weekend...to interact with ONLY adults...to only worry about myself. I know, I know I do get to leave more than a lot of parents. So that is where the guilt kicks in. I guess I am not as strong as most moms seeing that I NEED a break so frequently. Or possibly I am still clinging to the past...the days of being kid-less? I am not sure. Here is what I do know, I honestly think I am a better mom when I get these times to leave. I can feel myself coming back up to the surface and am reminded that I am not lost in the piles of laundry and housework.

So cheers, I will see you when I get back from The City.

Signed,

Annie

The Deed

I don't want to do it. I know it is going to break my heart to actually do it. I have been waiting 14 years to do this and I can hardly believe I am going to try today. My stomach hurts and my mouth is dry. I think I may actually be shaking a little from the nerves. AHHHHH, why does this have to be so difficult?

Alright, I need to give myself a pep talk. "I can do this! I CAN do this! I CAN DO THIS! People do this kind of thing everyday. You are going to be okay, it is going to be okay. You're not going to loose anything, you are going to be fine. Just fine." Okay, here we go I am going to admit what I have to do TODAY......

I am going to clean my FFA, farm, cowgirl, vintage (whatever you want to call them) boots off of the 14-year-old cow shit, red dirt, and hay that is still all over them. I have carefully preserved these beauties for the last 14 years. I have moved them countless times always keeping them in their original 20-year-old box. Each time I open the lid, peer in, and see them lying there covered in that sweet smelling shit. But, alas the time has come to sweep the old away and make them shiny and new. I have considered keeping some remnants of the grime so I won't forget the good ol days, but it seems a little weird.

So I am off to clean....not the kitchen or the floors but 14 years of memories.....

Signed
Annie

PS I will post before and after pics when the deed is done. Wish me luck