When Breathing Doesn't Work

For the 5 of you that follow this blog...

I posted earlier in the week about breathing and how I am trying to use the breathing to get me through it all. But lets be honest sometimes (or a lot of the time) it just doesn't work! So what does one do in these times? I am not sure what all of you do but I take Xanex! That sweet little pill that calms the pulse, quiets the brain, and brings on relaxation. Hey, I have no shame in my dependency on this white pill. I have been taking it for about 5 years...yes that would be about how long I've been a mother. The pill has become apart of the daily routine of survival here in the Schiefer household, much like coffee, TV, and tequila. I will skip brushing my teeth (don't judge) but I will NEVER miss swallowing my sweet little friend.

All of this to say that yesterday the fam and I went to meet some friends up in Costa Mesa for dinner. I admit I was feeling pretty anxious most of the day, so before we left I took a half of xanex to just calm the spirits. Usually I don't take the little man during the day, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. When the twins have run wild and smeared poo all over their rooms, or the baby has only taken a 30 minute nap, or you haven't showered, your face is erupting like a volcano, you haven't shaved in a week and it's 80 degrees and all you want to do is wear shorts but instead end up in dirty jeans you might need some relief. I am just saying, these things can drive a person crazy. So I reached for the pill bottle and took my relief. I was feeling good. I was feeling calm and I was breathing. Anyhow, we get to the restaurant and Hubs asks me to order, gladly I say. Then while in line he brings me one of the kids and says she needs to go to the bathroom....I look at him with the look of "So, take her!" Instead he gives me the look of, "I don't want to." So I relent and take her. I come out of the bathroom to see him ordering food...fine I think, I hope he knows what he is doing. Long story longer, it wasn't right and I was pissed. There he is sitting with his lovely dinner watching me lug the kids, the highchair and myself across the room to get everyone eating. After 13 years together I guess he still doesn't know what I like OR don't like to eat (HELLO I DON'T EAT MOLDED CHEESE!)

I admit I coped an attitude. I did, I was a bit bitchy. But deal....Instead he lobed this one at me, "Maybe you need to take some Xanex and calm down!" I reply oh so calmly, "I already did dear before we came." He laughed, the friends laughed (very uncomfortably), and I felt vindicated. Why? Because even the Xanex cannot protect him from the bitch inside his wife when he annoys her!

-Signed
Annie, the Xanex taking bitch

Keep Breathing

After 30 I used to think I would have things figured out and life would be pretty smooth sailing. Well, we all know that isn't quite how it goes. The ups and downs of this journey are constant and ever changing. I keep finding myself trying to make sense of things and categorize it all into neat boxes. Instead I find my head to be messy...like a crazy hoarding pack rat; shit everywhere and strewn about. No logical organization to anything it's all just spilling over. When I envision this mess and the feelings of being out of control begin to overwhelm, I have to remind myself that all I can do is "just keep breathing"...

Music has always played an important role in my life. I think for all of us it can tap into feelings and bring about a real cathartic experience. I usually have my ipod playing most of the day in the house. In the car I love having my satellite radio on...wonderful songs that stir up nostalgic feelings and new artist I get introduced to. I actually keep a pad of paper in the car where I can jot down artist or songs that I love. I then download them (and totally pay for them *snicker*) and ad them to the playlist that is ever growing...LOVING NOW. One of the songs that is on that list that always speaks to me each time it comes on is "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michelson. A great singer/song writer with powerful lyrics and melodies. This beautiful song about trying to live....to breathe...it is what gets me through some of the difficult situations that confront me in this life...

The storm is coming
But I don't mind
People are dieing
I close my blinds
All that I know is I'm breathing now

I want to change the world
Instead I sleep
I want to believe in more then you and me

All that I know is I'm breathing
All I can do is keep breathing
All we can do is keep breathing
Now now now now

Whatever it is that is making your life chaotic or challenging I hope this songs helps you like it has for me. I never want to forget to breathe. To take those deep breaths while in the eye of the storm that will pull me through to peaceful waters on the other side.

Signed,
Annie

Mundane

"Daily mundane tasks seem to overcome passion
and sometimes life, but that doesn't mean that you have to die."

I borrowed this quote from a friend, it sums up my life in a nutshell; This life of repeating the same tasks everyday over and over. Sure small things can be different in a day, whether the poop accident happens in the kids pants or gets all over the floor, but you are still cleaning it up. Which dishes you wash, it might be a pot, a frying pan, or a microwave safe bowl...but you are still washing. How many loads of laundry in a day varies, but if you let it go too long it becomes a mountain that will take days to conquer. Which kid is mouthing off and misbehaving changes by the minute, yet you are constantly correcting, directing, teaching the "proper" behavior.

I live my life in hour increments: The morning coffee and breakfast, then a respite during morning nap, before you know it's time to feed the little people, then another short break for afternoon rest followed by snack time, then off to make dinner, after which the meltdowns begin so we rush to finish bath time and bedtime. Finally, I have a few hours to do what I want, but by then I am so spent I don't even have the energy to move myself from the couch. I fall asleep there. Woken by hubby saying it's time to go upstairs. I crash into my bed to repeat the whole process again starting at 5:30am. Mundane, mundane simple tasks, a life lived in hour increments. It all becomes so boring.

I fit in a few things for myself here and there...but it never seems to be enough. How quickly you can become lost in the daily grind of your life.

Trying to find the balance of self, daily routine, and fulfilling your roles is damn hard. I don't want to feel like I have lost myself or died. I want to live and enjoy the moments that pass too quickly. "It doesn't mean you have to die" - maybe this should be my new mantra?

Signed
-Annie

THE PROPOSAL

The weekend started off badly. I had started my courses and was feeling like a bloated grouch. This Saturday morning we were supposed to head south for a brief weekend in San Diego and then at Disneyland, but part of the journey would be stopping at a friend's baby shower.
The plan was to leave by 10:30am to get to the OC in time for the shower, but when 9:30am came around and we were just waking up, Sir B looked at me dead serious and said there was no way he would be ready to leave in an hour. He still had to go home and pack for the weekend.
NO! I was not having it. I needed to be at the shower ON TIME because I was planning on leaving early. I could not arrive late and leave early. But Brad again looked at me dead serious again and said, "Sorry, you're going to be late." I made a huge stink. I threatened to go in a separate car. I threatened to not talk to him the whole day. He got mad. And when we finally just agreed to go together, I glared at him and refused to say a word, and he sighed and said, "This is going to be a loooong weekend!"
At 11:30, when the shower is starting, in HUNTINGTON BEACH, might I remind you, we were sitting in Downtown LA traffic. We we got past that onto the 5 FWY, suddenly a cop brought all traffic to a stop because of major road debris. Now NOON, I started to think I wasn't going to make the shower, which made me more mad, no angry, no, not even angry, I was a raging BITCH.
I made Brad get out his Blackberry and I told him to go to his calendar. I said, mark this day, mark this day for each month, and remember NEVER to do anything that could slightly piss me off, because on this day, I am PMSing, on this day, I might be starting my very courses, on this day, you will DIE if you make one mistake.
Now on the 710 FWY, traffic comes to a stop because of a multi-vehicle accident. Hot, sweating, bloated, angry, frustrated - I can't think of anything else but should I, or should I not go to this shower.
At 12:45p, I finally made it and I told Brad to go find something to do because I was no longer leaving this shower early; I was going to stay until the very end because he made me late and he was going to pay for it. If I knew then what tomorrow was going to bring, I would have NEVER dared said something so awful...or would I. Can a women really control her hormones? I guess I can say this all helps make it a great story to tell.
Luckily, the shower brightened my day, my anger ceased, and Sir B did not hold a grudge and was full of love and smiles when he picked me up (probably because he got to go shopping at Henry's and Target while he waited for me). In the car, now headed to San Diego we ended up hitting more traffic that brought us to continuous stops. I had nothing to be angry about, although it was very frustrating to be stuck in traffic AGAIN, so I chose to go to sleep for the rest of the trip.
When we arrived to San Diego I told Sir B to leave me at home and to go hang out with my sister and brother-in-law because I just wanted to lay on my mom's couch. He was happy to leave me and my bad mood behind. It wasn't until later that evening that we joined together again after what seemed like a day in distress with each other.
By Sunday morning, I was cramping pretty badly. We had plans to go to Disneyland to meet up with Sir B's best friends and do lunch, but trust me, I was not feeling it. If anyone knows me, they know that I must not have been feeling well if I considered passing up Disneyland. But Sir B was smart and did what he could to get me there- he purchased an annual pass (since I already have one).
Sir B was anxious to leave early in the morning but I wanted to at least have breakfast with my family. My sister made a nice breakfast but Sir B couldn't eat. Of course, then, I had no idea why, I just felt like, wow, he always makes me feel like a pig. We finally left and were able to make it to Disneyland with just enough time to make it to my favorite ride before we had to meet his friends. I was still giving Sir B a hard time though, walking ahead of him, not really holding his hand because it was too crowded and when I'm on my courses, I do not do well with people and crowds and I was just trying to get ahead and away from everyone. I even was saying that we should just meet his friends at the restaurant instead of outside of a ride and he should text them and tell them that. Of course, that was not part of the plan. Sir B's plan.
So we head to the exit of the Pirates of the Caribbean with still 15 minutes before we are to meet up with his friends. When I went to go in a shop, Sir B tugged at my hand as if not to let me go away. But I pulled my hand away and went anyway into the little shop. When I came out, Sir B was right at my tale and said while we wait we should have caricatures drawn of us. I was like, "Really, why? No, we don't have time." But Sir B said, "Yes we do, they're still in line and it doesn't take that long."
30 minutes later, his friends are nowhere in sight, a crowd is gathering around, and I'm starting to ask questions. To Sir B, "Where are they? Have they text you?" To the artist, "Are you almost finished, is that why all these people are standing around?"
45 minutes later, still no friends in sight and I'm back and forth in my mind. Is he going to do something? Nah, he's looking around for them, they must still be on the ride. He would never propose in such a public place. But what's going on?
Then, the artist asks, would you two like to see? Sir B turns to me and says, "Why don't you look first?"
I get up, walk around the easel, and there is the caricature of Sir B bending on one knee to me up in a castle and he's asking while holding an open ring box, "Will you marry me?"
OH MY GOD! IN PUBLIC? SIR B? IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE? NO WAY. NO WAY!!! OH MY GOD!!!
Then when I finally shut up, when tears were pouring down my face, when my jaw was quivering violently, he took my hands and said...
"Darling, I couldn't think of any better place than the happiest place on earth to tell you that you make me the happiest man on earth. You are the princess in my fairy tale and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Then he got down on one knee...
"Will you marry me?"
I dropped to the ground and grabbed him and said, "Yes". Then I stood up and shouted to the crowd of 50 people, yes 50!, "Yes!!!"
There just so happened to be a wedding photographer there, someone capturing it on film, and his friends...there they were...they were actually there, taking their own photos! Suddenly, out of nowhere and in perfect timing, came a Disneyland employee with two pins that said, "JUST ENGAGED!"
And there you have it...the PROPOSAL!!!
We just received some of the photos and will be getting a DVD in the mail. Stay tuned...

There is hope after 30

I am trying to begin this blog but keep getting distracted by the blinging ring on my left hand. What I see on one of the fingers pressing the keys on this laptop is not just a material item, it is a symbol to me that, thank God, there is hope after 30.
Past blogs have made it obvious that I was becoming scared more than impatient that perhaps marriage would not be for me again. People thought I was crazy to think that I even doubted my boyfriend, fearful that he would never propose because he wasn't too sure of me. But experience teaches you fear more than it does hope, I feel, and so I looked at the past to say, I won't believe it until it happens. I was not going to fall victim to taking literally a man's every word, no matter how honest, kind, Christian, and heartfelt he sounded.
I believed anything could happen. Another woman might come his way. A career change. An illness. As morbid as this sounds, there could have been death.
One can say it is the same when engaged, that nothing is sealed until the vows are spoken. True, but what I just needed to know, was that this man truly, truly loves me and wants only to ever be with me. I needed to believe that I was worthy of this kind of love.
After age 30, it is easy to doubt a future of love, marriage and family. Gone are the college days when it is so easy to meet those of the opposite sex. Gone are the early career days when you are out and about networking, socializing, partying. As a woman, your body starts changing and unless you want to work out 7 days a week, starve yourself, get botox, and plastic surgery, you can forget ever looking as youthful as you once did.
However, something else does happen when you are 30. You start finding yourself, you actually grow into your body. You become empowered, stronger, sexier, and ultimately more beautiful. Yet, younger men want you for sex; older men don't want you at all because they feel threatened that you're too smart for their games. Something was said along these lines in UP IN THE AIR by Vera Farmiga's character, but I can't quote it exactly, nor can I find it anywhere online. Jason Reitman says it better than I do in his script. But you get the idea.
And so goes the reason why single or divorced women in their 30's start to fret. Where can they find a decent man who hasn't been used and abused himself from divorce? Where can they find a man who is not so set in his ways? Are they going to be able to have children by age 40? What if a woman is so married to her career that no man would want to compete with that, especially if he's dreamed up a stay-at-home wife?
But I can breathe again. I made the ship before it set sail. I have joined the club, a club, whatever club that is, I don't care, but I have a man who loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I don't know what my body might do, but I have hope that I can now realistically plan to have a family.
The key word, HOPE. I can HOPE for a bright future with the man I found true love with, true love for the first time, past the age of 30.
Yes, women, there is hope after 30.

Summer Time, UGH!

Hot weather is coming and when you live in a Southern California beach town like I do, that means you're going to start living in your bathing suit. Although I love the change to the warm weather and the long days spent on the sandy Pacific shore, I DREAD the bathing suit. Here are the following reasons. Now this is not just the bathing suite I hate, but the maintenance it takes to be a well groomed woman IN a bathing suit.

1) Hair Maintenance: Whether you are shaving, waxing, threading, or using an epi-lady to rid yourself of your forest it is a pain in the ass. The hair removal process must begin well before the day you are going to be sliding that bikini on. AND it is not just the legs that need to be maintained...the pits, the eye brows, upper lip and the dreaded bikini line. Added to this annoying maintenance is the MEXICAN dark haired curse that I have. This is when I have to start bleaching. Now I am going to be completely honest here, I have to bleach that fine hair that has started creeping up all over my body; arms, tummy, and back. TMI, I know, but in the spirit of the blog it is honest. I have dreams of having my entire body lazered or better yet have all my hair follicles somehow removed so I no longer grow ANY hair except on my head. Oh, I fantasize about this day throughout the entire summer. But until then I curse the hair gods while I grit my teeth and wax, thread, pluck and bleach religiously.

2) Skin Maintenance: We turn 30 and our skin changes for the worse. It suddenly starts getting dry and flaky. Wrinkles are showing and smile lines are getting deeper. Then there are those HORRIBLE sun spots that suddenly started rearing their ugly dark heads. I NEVER noticed I had these cheetah spots until after my kids. Now I must use glycolic peels, bleaching creams, and gobs of sunscreen to keep them at bay. I layer concealer and makeup up over them to try and hide 'em from the world. The warm summer months hit and I start really stressing. This is when they get dark and ugly. So before I even put my little finger out the door into the sunshine I MUST layer on the 65 sunscreen and the wide brimmed hat. Gone are the carefree days of the 20's when I baked in the rays of the sun and came out with golden sun-kissed skin. Here are the days of the matronly cover-ups, granny hats, and sunscreen.

3) Aunt Flo: This is that horrible time of month that hits right when you have your vacation to Cabo planned or your hot date at the beach with that guy from the coffee shop. Inevitably your period is going to hit hard...BLOAT, HEAVY rivers of blood, tampons being filled up to the brim each hour, cramps that radiate throughout your entire body, acne that blows up your face like a volcano, and that wonderful emotional roller coaster that is sure to make you question your sanity. Then there is the reoccurring nightmare that this will all happen while you are wearing your bikini. Who hasn't had that dreaded moment on the beach when you are sure, even convinced that your tampon string is hanging out? You know that EVERYONE has seen it there...the little white string popping out. Or how about the fear that the warm liquid you feel on your leg is not sweat but actually BLOOD from your vajaja? Your tampon has overflowed and it is dripping down your leg. This is the worst possible scenario, but I FEAR it every freaking time I put on that damn bathing suit when I am on the rag. I know that it is going to happen, one of these days...it is going to happen, I just pray it is while I am in my backyard playing in the sprinklers with the kids.

So does this stop us from wearing the bathing suit? Well, no, but the stress it takes to get that thing on kills me a little more each year!

Signed
Annie (I still haven't worn mine this year)

Palm Springs - A Tag on "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"

There is nothing like the memories you bring back from a night out or even a weekend trip with THE GIRLS. The shared stories, the laughter, the CRAAAZY things you would never do with anyone else...I am fully with Anne-Marie about how much Girls want to [and need to] have FUN!
I was in desperate need of Girl time when I got the text message asking if I would like to join some of Hollywood's brightest, most talented, successful, funnest, single ladies on a trip to Palm Springs. I absolutely jumped at the opportunity. It was like I put it out in the universe and they responded.
The players: Ring Leader, Publicist, Danish Girl and me.
If you go on my Facebook you can see just how much fun we had! It started out all meeting at the Ring Leader's house. There she made us a great breakfast and we gossiped about her first date with this entertainment lawyer. Of course, one topic leads to many others when it comes to Girl talk, and before you know it we had already been at the house 30 minutes jibber-jabbering when we should have already hit the road. But we gathered up our items, I dug out space in my friend's trunk and we packed tight all our belongings. We were on our way. Goodbye Hollywood; Hello Palm Springs.
There was never a hole in our conversation on the entire two-hour drive. For most of it, it was like watching E! True Hollywood Stories, or reading the tabloids, since Publicist is a celebrity publicist, Ring Leader manages celebrities, and Danish Girl worked in foreign sales (motion picture) but now reps producers and directors. I got to hear all about the IRON MAN 2 premiere and the freakin' sexy Robert Downey, Jr. But aside from Hollywood BS, we fantasized about marrying old, saggy rich men, and sang along to the tunes of GREASE at the top of our lungs, SUMMER LOVIN', HAVE ME A BLAST! Next thing you know, we had arrived.
That's when our ring leader pulled out the small ice chest of . . . MARGARITAS in recycled water bottles. Yes - we were still in the car driving, but now on the main strip. A toast to Palm Springs! Let me just say, it was only 11am.
Soon we approached the one and only, hipster hotel...ACE. What appeared to be a retro run down hotel, was actually one of the hippest hotels I've stayed at, purposely looking the way it did. But soon you discovered how NICE and HIGH QUALITY everything actually was. We immediately made our way to the pool. Lounge chairs with big tall sun visors attached, big circular lounge beds, lounge couches, pool bars, and hipsters. It looked like Silver Lake peeps migrated to the desert, and we joined them. Dogs wer in abundance, as well. It was a real party!
As my friends were guzzling their Margaritas, I went to the bathroom and poured mine in the toilet - I'm not a fan of Margaritas that aren't blended. But I soon ordered the strongest Long Beach Ice Tea I've ever had. Tasted like medicine. My friends were on their third drinks now. We were all feeling it and having a great time.
We didn't end up leaving the pool until 6p - burnt, drunk and exhausted. But we powered up, showered and hit the strip. What transpired from this point on was just genuinely girl fun and unless you were actually there it's difficult for me to relate in a blog. Like, "You had to be there", sort of thing. I can try, and I will tell some of it.
Something I thought was pretty hilarious, was at dinner, our ring leader's eyes were drooping and she was yawning. I think that made us all tired. But the faithful party-goer that she is, she pulled out her list of bars we had to hit up. If you saw us, you would understand why we decided not to walk, but to take a cab. But hold that thought, because when we went to the street to take a cab none would stop for us. AT ALL! Whizzing by, empty cabs, refused to stop. We found out later that you have to CALL and reserve cabs. WHATEVER.
So coming down the road we see a big bus that reads, DOWNTOWN. I was kidding when I said, "Let's take the bus!", but my friends said, "OK!" so enthusiastically, that we actually ended up doing so. This is when I should describe what we were wearing. As we walk onto the bus, (Anne-Marie can relate to this part), we see some scary people who are looking us up and down. We did not belong! I was wearing a VERY SHORT halter black dress, gold bangles, wet messy hair and funky black sandle shoes. Ring Leader was wearing a VERY SHORT shirt dress, and sandles and dark make-up. Publicist was wearing a great fitted dress and her curly hair a big frizz (on purpose). And Danish Girl was wearing a white, see-through, man's work shirt with a skulls and cross-bone bikini top showing through, a short mini jean skirt, and sandles. Yeah! We looked like we had been transplanted from LA into the twilight zone.
To make things worse, Publicist kept repeating loudly, "Oh this is so fun, we're on a BUS!" And then we had no choice but to ask for directions because it was obvious we were CLUELESS where we were going. Never mind the crazy Indian man with double braids telling our deaf ears his stories of why he gets kicked off of buses. Eventually our stop came and we rushed out of the bus. Not so fun anymore, eh. "We're taking a cab home!" was the concensus.
As we went down the list of bars, the one we were most excited for was the STREETBAR NAMED DESIRE, mostly because the name was so cool. But as we started to approach, it was just called STREETBAR, and there were rainbows everywhere, men everywhere, and this bar suddenly became not so cool. Ring Leader started laughing so hard vomit shot out of her mouth. I had to duck out of the way, but she had caught it in her hand and flung it in the street. Desperate for a restroom, but not desperate enough to go inside the STREETBAR, we all ran across the street to another bar. This was no better.
Danish Girl and I stayed on the sidewalk while Publicist and Ring Leader ran inside, where the latter got rid of the rest of her dinner. Meanwhile, outside, we realized the "woman" talking loudly outside on the bar patio- about how if we would have come earlier we would have been rocking out to classic rock instead of to this pop BS- was actually a man. Sure enough we were at another gay bar. In fact, where had we been all night...looking around us, the entire street was full of gay men. And I started to wonder if they thought Danish Girl and I were men dressed like women. Just then Publicist and Ring Leader had the same realization and we quickly found our way to men who might like us.
Okay, maybe it was more like, boys. I really can end this here. Once teenagers started hitting on us we knew it was time to call that cab. By 12:30a, it was lights out. But who really needed to party anymore, all that mattered was Girls Just Wanted to Have Fun...and fun we did have. These were memories that will last a life time, memories that have already given us tons of laughs as we are back working the daily grind.
-
Signed,
Marcieanna

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

There is nothing in the world like hanging with your girls! I mean seriously I crave girl time constantly. After living 9 years with a man I appreciate girl time MORE THAN EVER. Can I hear a holler out there from all you ladies??? Have you ever been so frustrated with the testosterone in your home and the work it takes to communicate with a male? In those moments I think, If I was talking with my sister or one of my girls there would be no problem here...we understand each other...things do not EVEN HAVE to be said, we just know! When I get to this place I pick up the phone and dial the ladies and get a girl's night set up on the books.

Last weekend I had just that with my sister and a wonderfully dear friend. It was happy hour and we hit the local watering hole decked out in our summer best. The time was filled with that non-stop kind of talking where you find your self exhilarated by the discussion. It's not like we discussed anything of serious consequence. Mostly we talked sex, love, menstrual cycles, fashion, and our frustration with the male brain. Once we got a few cocktails down things were in full swing. We laughed so hard we cried. My friend and I were really amused by my sisters tales of dating. She made us horse laugh with the stories of all the idiot men out there. In turn I think we scared her away from marriage with our tales of boring sex, annoying man habits, and the daily grind of raising a family. But in the end we raised our glasses and cheered GIRL TIME!

Walking back after the happy hour I stared humming "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" in my head. In my opinion it is one of the best songs ever written, a mantra of sorts for all of us ladies. No matter what life situation you are in this is YOUR song!

"That's all they really want
Some fun
When the working day is done
Girls-- they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I want to be the one to walk in the sun
Oh girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun"

Isn't it true...that's all we really want, some fun? So the next time as a married lady you are laying there and your husband is trying to caress your body and get into your pants, but all you can think about is the health of your cuticles, call your girls. Or as a single lady when you run into a one night stand and he runs away and hides you've gotta call your girls!

WE JUST WANNA HAVE SOME FUN!

-Signed

Annie

"You Can't Make This Stuff Up!"

Hubby and I were able to escape for an adult weekend down to San Diego. It was great to pack all my "going out" clothes. You know what I am talking about...the clothes that usually don't see the light of day because I don't want them ruined by piss, poo, spit-up, snot, or any other bodily fluids that might come out of my three rug rats. I had all my nice shoes including the heels I only wear about once a year. I was looking forward to taking the time to do my hair and makeup OUTSIDE of the car on my way to school drop off. I mean, I would actually be able to stand in front of a mirror to see what I really looked like, imagine that!? I was really looking forward to this adult weekend! Yummy adult restaurants, drinks, rooftop bars, late nights and late mornings. It was going to be bliss...

When we arrive in our swanky hipster hotel hubby throws his bag on the bed. He gives me a sly smile and pulls out several items...1) A bottle of patron 2) a couple of shot glasses 3) two white tube socks. I looked at him sideways and said, "what are those for?" pointing at the tube socks. He then laughs and pulls out a vibrator from each!!!!! I fell on the bed horse laughing. I could not believe my husband! Here I am fretting and planning all my outfits out down to the smallest details and he is busy digging around in the "sex box" on the top closet shelf for toys. Wow, it was going to be a crazy weekend ADULT weekend! Needless to say it was a blast in all the adult ways....if you get my drift.

Then it was back home to our Mommy and Daddy "roles." The kids gave us big hugs and said they missed us. The dog jumped with joy to see us again. In no time we were back to the routine of life in suburbia. We left the adult weekend behind...or so we thought...On the Wednesday after we got home our house cleaners came. I LOVE my house cleaning days! There is nothing in the world like coming home to a sparkling house and you didn't have to lift a finger to do it! I went upstairs and breathed in the scent of cleanliness... I think I was getting high. I then looked over at the bed and my high quickly dissipated into utter shock...There setting on the edge of my nicely made bed lay a white tube sock! WHAT the F? I thought I had put all the luggage in my closet, out of the way for the cleaners? I ran to look in the closet, yes it was there. How did this tube sock escape? There was only one answer, it must have rolled out of the luggage and while the cleaners were busy tidying my room they found it!!!! AHHH, are you kidding me? They found my vibrator!?!? Yes, that seemed to be the case. They found it and kindly laid it on the edge of bed to say...."Oh, yes we found your toy and we didn't want you to miss it so we set it out here on your bed for your next use." Great, thank you for that! I will be sure to give you a thank you note the next time I see you. I am still utterly embarrassed about the whole ordeal. I mean, what can I say to them the next time I see them? "Hi there, sorry I left my vibrator out?" No, no, there is really nothing to say I just will smile and pretend it never happened. Of course I know they will now be looking at me in a TOTALLY different way. The moral of the story? I suppose it is that sometimes adult weekends can bleed over into the reality of our real lives! Look out and beware, cause you never know when it will happen to you!

Signed

Annie, the Adult

Divorce - to be or not to be

Divorced people tell you that whether you were the broken-hearted, or the heart-breaker, it is never easy. Look at me, three years later and I'm still suffering with the pain, the hurt, the anger, the frustration- and I was the one who ASKED for the divorce!!! It makes no difference. You know why. Guilt. Guilt can kill you. And you know why else, because in some ways you are always committed to that person, in some way or another, even if it's a committment to insanity.
Yesterday would have made my 9 year wedding anniversary. And today I talked to the ex, fought with the ex more like it, the same fight we've been having since we broke up - about money. But actually, it's not me fighting, I just want to be done with it, it's him constantly calling and wanting to talk about the same thing. Is it a reason to talk to me, is it a reason to irk me? I don't know, but I thought by taking on a majority of the debt I would be able to just move on and struggle and suffer financially as penance for my sins. But apparently, the ex wants to make my debt still his business even though he's no longer liable. His name is off everything.
But a new fight has brewed. He insists I change my last name, his last name. Well, too, late, I needed to have done that during the divorce. Why didn't I then, I don't know, because too many people knew me by that last name, i had a resume built on that last name, and I just didn't think it was a big deal. Only now, THREE YEARS later, it has become a BIG DEAL. Fine, I changed my last name on my personal email account and on my Facebook account.
I had so much fun planned for tonight- new entertainment industry bible study at CBS, kickboxing afterward, and then salsa. But now I refuse to go anywhere or see anyone because I am emotionally taxed. It feels like I just left my ex yesterday. Seriously.
And I have no one really to talk to about this. I talk to my sister and she gets fired up that I need to take this back to court. I feel weird talking to my boyfriend for obvious reasons, but when i try, he gets distracted with work and next thing you know he's like, "what were you saying?" so then I hang up and shut off my phone entirely. SHUT OUT THE WORLD. If only I could...what...say it...run away...from everything and everyone...but i can't because debt keeps me here. Divorce and its consequences keep me here. I'm tied to the ex forever, I'm committed to this insanity forever, no matter how much I wanted to break away.
So there, I said it, marriage is in some ways forever.

Roles...My Rant

Roles. Fucking Roles. Confined by them and told what to do by them. Forever restrained by what "one should" do. Should being the operative word there. Living to the social norms of what is acceptable and expected.

So I wear the hat of the supportive and dutiful wife. My role to care for the home, manage the cash flow, do all the laundry, cleaning, organizing and care taking of 5 people. Of course make sure we have food for 3 meals a day, a beautiful yard, bills sent, dishes cleaned. And don't forget to track the entire family (20 plus people) birthdays, special events, and anniversaries.

Be the beautiful, well spoken and put together business wife. Don't say the wrong thing and don't act like the lunatic that you are. Never be too sensitive, show too much emotion, for God's sake you might seem unstable. Be sure to monitor your alcohol consumption, your crazy political beliefs and radical thoughts----Don't want to scare anyone now.

Be the supportive sister. Tread lightly and don't be too negative. Make sure to call often. Monitor the relations between family---extended and immediate. Make sure everyone is happy and getting along. Don't offend--because then the shit might actually hit the fan..

Mother. Be loving, show and model the ideal woman. Don't fuck them up. Be careful not to yell or be harsh. Read to them, compliment them, feed them, bathe them, teach them, expose them, show them culture. Oh and have the answers for God, heaven, Jesus and the like. They look at you with eyes full of wonder and love. I fail them every G**damn day. I disappoint them at every turn. I fail. I fail. I fail. I fail. This is the only role I genuinely care about and I fuck it up every day.

The Christian. Please act spiritual and righteous. How dare you show compassion to the disenfranchised gays, lesbians, immigrants, atheist, homeless and others like them. Talk the talk and use the lingo. Be sure to say, "I am blessed," "The Lord cares," "I am His child," "I was moved by the spirit." Blah, blah blah. It's all just about sounding holier an more righteous than the next. Lets get real--we are flawed. Not everything is a sin. I have my beliefs, my morals, my ethics. I am a believer in God, but I am not going to conform to your Bible humping psycho babble. I'm not going to live in the rigidity of black and white.

Roles. Fucking Roles.

Signed

-Annie