I started talking to Greg in December. We met on MySpace, not an ideal place to meet guys. Due to some interesting circumstances that came about at the beginning of January, I deleted him and a number of other guys from my MySpace friends.
After the person I met in January quickly turned out to be not what I had originally thought, I started talking to Greg again. “You e mailed and asked why I deleted you from my friends list. Some crazy things happened in my life very quickly, and I kinda shut myself off…anyway, I’m back if you still want to talk.” Amazingly enough, he did.
We chatted on MySpace, then exchanged numbers and started texting (oh joy!) and eventually started talking on the phone. He scared me to death. Why? Because he is so nice. He said many things to me that were similar to the things Mr. January had said. That person had me completely snowed, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again.
Besides that, Greg doesn’t have a license. A big dating no no for me. He lost it following a DUI in October. (He gets it back at the end of April) I believe people do stupid things and learn from their mistakes. God knows I’ve done plenty of stupid crap in my life. In addition, I had broken an even bigger dating no no to see Mr. January. That was my fault.
Greg continued being his very sweet self, telling me he would have his license back soon, and he could take me out. We started talking and texting all day. Every day. He couldn’t understand when I told him I was afraid of his niceness. I think he was a little upset with me when I told him I was afraid he was a player, but I was just telling the truth.
Soooo… I accepted the date with Mike last weekend, which we all know didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. Now I’m glad.
Greg and I were talking earlier in the week when he told me he would be off Sunday, would I like to come and take him out for dinner? That must have been a hard thing to ask a girl. I would think it was very emasculating. I accepted.
Tonight, I picked him up at his house. We went to Red Lobster, which is a pretty nice (read: pricy) restaurant. Definitely not volgivagant. Nice dinner, we were there for almost two hours talking. I was so nervous I shook the whole time. He suggested a movie. A real movie in a theatre. It has been almost four years since I’ve been to the movies! The movie didn’t start until 10:15, so when we left Red Lobster, we went to a bookstore next to the theatre. We walked around and held hands, and he put his arm around me, kissed my hand, and played with my hair. (Awwww…. Do you want to throw up yet?) He leaned over and smelled my hair. “You smell so good,” he said. Now if I am going to make the effort to be all dolled up and put on my lotions and potions for a guy, he damn well better notice!
Not only do I appreciate when a guy notices that I have my stink pretty on, but it makes me more comfortable. I have a thing about smells. I love to smell things. Not everything, obviously, but I knew when he smelled my hair that he wasn’t going to freak out if I leaned into him and took a big whiff of his cologne. He smelled really good, too, by the way. He was wearing cologne he ordered from Ireland called Patrick.
We left the bookstore, and went to the theatre. He took me to see ‘The Haunting in Connecticut’. We both love horror movies. He held my hand, put his arm around me, it was all very comfortable, and my nerves eased up a little.
All night he remembered to open doors, told me how nice I looked, and how he loves to see me smile. My face hurts, and I’m STILL smiling! Then I had to take him home. The date was over. Neither of us was happy for it to end, but it was past midnight, and short of making out in the backseat there was nothing left to do. Mummy Nat will be proud, I kept my legs crossed!
I wanted to tell you all so badly, but was afraid I would jinx myself! I can’t wait to see him again, and he has called me once and texted me several times saying he feels the same way! I so hope he doesn’t turn out to be a player. My poor little heart can’t take much more breaking!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Oh My Word! Volgivagant
So much catching up to do!
I loved the 'Adopt A Word' Post from Lisa (http://raihndrops.blogspot.com/2009/03/1152-pm-pregnatress-adopt-word.html) that I decided to adopt my own!
YOU can adopt your own at Save The Words. (http://www.savethewords.org/)
I loved the 'Adopt A Word' Post from Lisa (http://raihndrops.blogspot.com/2009/03/1152-pm-pregnatress-adopt-word.html) that I decided to adopt my own!
YOU can adopt your own at Save The Words. (http://www.savethewords.org/)
Oh my word!
VOLGIVAGANT (adj) pertaining to the common people
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Starfish
Once upon a time there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work. One day he was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach, he saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself to think of someone who would dance to the day. So he began to walk faster to catch up.
As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean.
As he got closer he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"
The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean."
"I guess I should have asked, why are you throwing starfish in the ocean?"
"The sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them in they'll die."
"But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young man listened politely. Then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said- "It made a difference for that one."
How many "starfish" do you come across in a day?
- Author Unknown
I came across this on the net and wanted to share it. I would love to know and give credit to whoever wrote this. If you have any idea please let me know!
As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean.
As he got closer he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"
The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean."
"I guess I should have asked, why are you throwing starfish in the ocean?"
"The sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them in they'll die."
"But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young man listened politely. Then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said- "It made a difference for that one."
How many "starfish" do you come across in a day?
- Author Unknown
I came across this on the net and wanted to share it. I would love to know and give credit to whoever wrote this. If you have any idea please let me know!
Monday, March 23, 2009
You can't win them all!
I think he was definitely more nervous than I was. We had a good time. Nice dinner, good conversation, lots in common. There just weren’t any sparks for me. Unfortunately there must have been for him, because he keeps texting me things like ‘I miss you already’, and ‘I wish we were together right now’. Ack! What to do?!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Symptoms
1) Nausea
2) Light headed
3) Legs weak/shaky
4) Short of breath
5) Headache
6) tight feeling in my chest
Am I having a heart attack?
NO! I have First Date Jitters!!!
Wish me luck!
2) Light headed
3) Legs weak/shaky
4) Short of breath
5) Headache
6) tight feeling in my chest
Am I having a heart attack?
NO! I have First Date Jitters!!!
Wish me luck!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Long overdue thanks!!!
I have recently received some blogging awards for which I am very appreciative and quite flattered! The only problem is, I'm not sure what to do about passing them on... I will come up with something, rest assured! In the mean time I would like to thank these people, and everyone who takes the time to read my posts! Love to all!
Thank you Natalie at Musings From The Deep (http://mummypandy.blogspot.com)
Thank you Natalie at Musings From The Deep (http://mummypandy.blogspot.com)
Thank you ETW at The Glamorous Life of a Hausfrau (http://eviltwinswife.blogspot.com)
Happy Vernal Equinox!!
It is the first day of spring here, and a beautiful one it is! I feel better already. I’m beginning to shake the winter funk, and am excited about my big weekend!
*Text from Mike when I woke up this morning…”I can’t wait until tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Sounds promising…I am starting to get nervous!
*Found out that drug guy is MARRIED! Has been for ELEVEN YEARS! What a douche.
*I didn’t finish the painting for my best friend’s birthday gift. Guess he is getting a bottle of his favourite cherry vodka. That’s probably better than my art anyway!
*Fat cats are happy the windows are open. We all know life is all about making our pets happy!
*Decided that it was okay for me to buy something to take to the party tonight instead of making something. Cop out! **********This is me holding my friend's baby the day she was born*********************
*Found out my friend’s baby is partially deaf in both ears. Hoping it is just fluid that can be drained.
*Can’t wait for the party tonight…dancing all night listening to records, talking about crazy stuff, people who don’t think I’m (too) crazy!
It is the first day of spring here, and a beautiful one it is! I feel better already. I’m beginning to shake the winter funk, and am excited about my big weekend!
*Text from Mike when I woke up this morning…”I can’t wait until tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Sounds promising…I am starting to get nervous!
*Found out that drug guy is MARRIED! Has been for ELEVEN YEARS! What a douche.
*I didn’t finish the painting for my best friend’s birthday gift. Guess he is getting a bottle of his favourite cherry vodka. That’s probably better than my art anyway!
*Fat cats are happy the windows are open. We all know life is all about making our pets happy!
*Decided that it was okay for me to buy something to take to the party tonight instead of making something. Cop out! **********This is me holding my friend's baby the day she was born*********************
*Found out my friend’s baby is partially deaf in both ears. Hoping it is just fluid that can be drained.
*Can’t wait for the party tonight…dancing all night listening to records, talking about crazy stuff, people who don’t think I’m (too) crazy!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Just a few little things...
*It is raining here tonight. Great! Big! Fat! Raindrops! I love it. I love the sound it makes, the smell, the way the air feels. It’s lovely.
*Friday night is a surprise birthday party for my best friend. He will be 30 tomorrow. Funny part is, he’s gay, and the party is a girl’s nite event with him and his boyfriend! We have girl’s night parties with them all the time, and always have a ball. I’m sure this time will also be great.
*Saturday night. I have a date! A mutual friend insisted I should meet Mike, and we all ‘happened’(?) to be in the same place at the same time one night. I ran into him at one of my clubs last night, and we talked for several hours. He asked if he could take me out Saturday night. I accepted. Not only has he texted me all day, he actually CALLED twice saying how excited he is! I know it sounds like I’m just out picking guys up, but I’m not! They are suddenly coming from out of nowhere!
*And I’m wondering, is the niceness of a guy directly related to how big of a jerk they really are? My experience has been that the ‘nicest’ guys turn out to be the biggest jerks! Maybe it’s because the nicer they seem at first, the bigger the crash is when I find out they aren’t. Poor Mike has his work cut out for him with me!
*Friday night is a surprise birthday party for my best friend. He will be 30 tomorrow. Funny part is, he’s gay, and the party is a girl’s nite event with him and his boyfriend! We have girl’s night parties with them all the time, and always have a ball. I’m sure this time will also be great.
*Saturday night. I have a date! A mutual friend insisted I should meet Mike, and we all ‘happened’(?) to be in the same place at the same time one night. I ran into him at one of my clubs last night, and we talked for several hours. He asked if he could take me out Saturday night. I accepted. Not only has he texted me all day, he actually CALLED twice saying how excited he is! I know it sounds like I’m just out picking guys up, but I’m not! They are suddenly coming from out of nowhere!
*And I’m wondering, is the niceness of a guy directly related to how big of a jerk they really are? My experience has been that the ‘nicest’ guys turn out to be the biggest jerks! Maybe it’s because the nicer they seem at first, the bigger the crash is when I find out they aren’t. Poor Mike has his work cut out for him with me!
The results are in!
I’m here to disappoint everyone. Sorry. Drug guy turned out to be just like the rest of the guys. Interested in only one thing. His only redeeming quality is that he was up front about it. Not what I’m looking for, but I would much rather that he was a jerk to begin with than put on a good guy act to try to hook me.
One thing I have discovered after returning to dating after a ten-year relationship is that many things are considered acceptable that once were not. When did it become okay for a guy to send you pictures of his junk that he took with his cell phone? To ask what kind of panties you have on? Give me a break!
The sad part is that in the beginning I just accepted that that is the way things were, and thought that was the way I was supposed to be. I put up with and did a lot of things that I would not have normally done. Because I was trying to fit into a mold.
Fortunately, I figured out that I didn’t have to do that. It just took me too long to figure it out. So, see ya later drug guy!
One thing I have discovered after returning to dating after a ten-year relationship is that many things are considered acceptable that once were not. When did it become okay for a guy to send you pictures of his junk that he took with his cell phone? To ask what kind of panties you have on? Give me a break!
The sad part is that in the beginning I just accepted that that is the way things were, and thought that was the way I was supposed to be. I put up with and did a lot of things that I would not have normally done. Because I was trying to fit into a mold.
Fortunately, I figured out that I didn’t have to do that. It just took me too long to figure it out. So, see ya later drug guy!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Pick up lines and box cutters
Here it is, the end of another week. I have a few days off and will definitely be spending some time catching up in Blogville!
I worked yet another double shift last night and something interesting happened…
On midnight shift, we get our drug delivery. The guy comes in with a sealed tote, cuts the tags off with a box cutter, and presents us with an abundance of medications! I’m usually gone for the night when this happens and don’t see the ‘drug guy’ (our affectionate term for him) very often. Last night I was checking in the narcotics talking to him, and he asked if we had his phone number on the unit. He said he likes to make sure everyone has it in case we need anything. I told him we did not, and he wrote it down and handed it to me.
More idle chitchat, I made a comment that I wouldn’t like all the driving that his job entails. He said something about having people text or call him to keep him company. Off he went.
I went on break, and when I returned, the other nurse on the floor said the drug guy had called. She was absolutely giddy, almost jumping up and down. Apparently he called and said he ‘lost’ his box cutter, thought he may have left it there. Said to tell the nurse who checked in the meds to call him, he had given her his number. The other nurse said she offered to look for it, and he said just to have me call him.
So I did.
No, I didn’t see his box cutter anywhere. Yes, I would keep an eye out for it. Then he says, “Oh, and you can text me later if you have time.” (Again with the texting!) The other nurse was sure he just wanted me to call him. I wasn’t sold on that…like I have said before I don’t look sexy at all when I’m at work, and when he sees me I have already been there for at least 10 hours!
So, I texted him. The following is our conversation, he is D.G., and I am V.A.
V.A. This is Vevay from Newbright. Did you find what you were looking for?
D.G. Not yet. Are you keeping busy?
V.A. We have two orientees tonight, but I am still trying to finish paperwork from 3-11, so that is keeping me busy. Guess you just stay busy, huh?
D.G. Yea, I am surprised you sent me a text.
V.A. Why?
D.G. Just didn’t think you would go for it.
V.A. Did you really even lose your box cutter?
D.G. Yes, but I wanted you to text me. That’s why I gave you my number!
V.A. Thought you were being sly? That’s funny. I probably wouldn’t have texted if you hadn’t called, though.
D.G. Why not? I dropped a big hint!
V.A. You said you give your number to everyone.
D.G. I don’t really.
After this he started sending messages, Are you still there? Hope I didn’t upset you. Did I make you mad? I replied to these, but it seemed like he wasn’t getting my messages. Then it dawned on me that he was trying to get me to call him!
V.A. Either you are really not getting my messages or you are trying to get me to call you.
D.G. You got me.
V.A. Well, I do have to get back to work but maybe later today.
D.G. I will be hoping to hear from you!
And maybe I will…you have to give a guy credit for a move like that. Right now though, I need sleep. I’ve been awake for 22 hours, and my lovely bed and two fat cats miss me!
I worked yet another double shift last night and something interesting happened…
On midnight shift, we get our drug delivery. The guy comes in with a sealed tote, cuts the tags off with a box cutter, and presents us with an abundance of medications! I’m usually gone for the night when this happens and don’t see the ‘drug guy’ (our affectionate term for him) very often. Last night I was checking in the narcotics talking to him, and he asked if we had his phone number on the unit. He said he likes to make sure everyone has it in case we need anything. I told him we did not, and he wrote it down and handed it to me.
More idle chitchat, I made a comment that I wouldn’t like all the driving that his job entails. He said something about having people text or call him to keep him company. Off he went.
I went on break, and when I returned, the other nurse on the floor said the drug guy had called. She was absolutely giddy, almost jumping up and down. Apparently he called and said he ‘lost’ his box cutter, thought he may have left it there. Said to tell the nurse who checked in the meds to call him, he had given her his number. The other nurse said she offered to look for it, and he said just to have me call him.
So I did.
No, I didn’t see his box cutter anywhere. Yes, I would keep an eye out for it. Then he says, “Oh, and you can text me later if you have time.” (Again with the texting!) The other nurse was sure he just wanted me to call him. I wasn’t sold on that…like I have said before I don’t look sexy at all when I’m at work, and when he sees me I have already been there for at least 10 hours!
So, I texted him. The following is our conversation, he is D.G., and I am V.A.
V.A. This is Vevay from Newbright. Did you find what you were looking for?
D.G. Not yet. Are you keeping busy?
V.A. We have two orientees tonight, but I am still trying to finish paperwork from 3-11, so that is keeping me busy. Guess you just stay busy, huh?
D.G. Yea, I am surprised you sent me a text.
V.A. Why?
D.G. Just didn’t think you would go for it.
V.A. Did you really even lose your box cutter?
D.G. Yes, but I wanted you to text me. That’s why I gave you my number!
V.A. Thought you were being sly? That’s funny. I probably wouldn’t have texted if you hadn’t called, though.
D.G. Why not? I dropped a big hint!
V.A. You said you give your number to everyone.
D.G. I don’t really.
After this he started sending messages, Are you still there? Hope I didn’t upset you. Did I make you mad? I replied to these, but it seemed like he wasn’t getting my messages. Then it dawned on me that he was trying to get me to call him!
V.A. Either you are really not getting my messages or you are trying to get me to call you.
D.G. You got me.
V.A. Well, I do have to get back to work but maybe later today.
D.G. I will be hoping to hear from you!
And maybe I will…you have to give a guy credit for a move like that. Right now though, I need sleep. I’ve been awake for 22 hours, and my lovely bed and two fat cats miss me!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Strange dreams and good stuff
The last few nights have been really strange…dreams about my ex in which he was the person before the cocaine. Dreams about my dog who died back in September. A blind sheriff in my front yard with a seeing eye dog, a friend’s baby having a gruesome deformity, and the usual stuff about work and co workers.
I have always had very vivid dreams. I used to have night terrors so bad that I take a medication to help me stay out of that sleep mode. I can still vividly recall the worst nightmare I ever had, which occurred when I was about five. When things with my ex were really bad I would wake up out of a dead sleep screaming and crying.
Strange how I remember the most horrifying dreams, and not the good ones. Kind of like life where, for me anyway, it seems so much easier to recall the bad than to recall the good. Why is that?
*************************************************************************************
Now that I have that out of my system…good stuff!
*I have another double shift scheduled Friday! Have I told you yet how grateful I am to have a good job?
*I got new make-up! I am very girly that way, I love make-up and lotions and potions.
*I am so grateful to have a place to live. I met a homeless man last weekend. I had never actually met anyone who was homeless. My first instinct was to bring him home, but I decided that wasn’t a good idea. I have to keep myself in check over things like that.
*Books Books Books! I love to read. Just finished ‘Mockingbird’ again and have started ‘Angela’s Ashes’. This is another book I read several times a year. Many people don’t understand why I would re-read a book, but to me it’s like listening to a record you love over and over again.
I have always had very vivid dreams. I used to have night terrors so bad that I take a medication to help me stay out of that sleep mode. I can still vividly recall the worst nightmare I ever had, which occurred when I was about five. When things with my ex were really bad I would wake up out of a dead sleep screaming and crying.
Strange how I remember the most horrifying dreams, and not the good ones. Kind of like life where, for me anyway, it seems so much easier to recall the bad than to recall the good. Why is that?
*************************************************************************************
Now that I have that out of my system…good stuff!
*I have another double shift scheduled Friday! Have I told you yet how grateful I am to have a good job?
*I got new make-up! I am very girly that way, I love make-up and lotions and potions.
*I am so grateful to have a place to live. I met a homeless man last weekend. I had never actually met anyone who was homeless. My first instinct was to bring him home, but I decided that wasn’t a good idea. I have to keep myself in check over things like that.
*Books Books Books! I love to read. Just finished ‘Mockingbird’ again and have started ‘Angela’s Ashes’. This is another book I read several times a year. Many people don’t understand why I would re-read a book, but to me it’s like listening to a record you love over and over again.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Nutcracker Sweet
This is a story I wrote as a Christmas gift for my Papa, and a tribute to my Granny. I've been thinking about her a lot lately , so I thought I would share.
From the warmth of the enclosed porch I spied on the wintry scene outside. The wind was still, and the falling snowflakes silently joined those that had already formed a soft blanket over the landscape. Large boxwoods were swaddled in the white, giving the impression of mounds of cotton in the yard. Bright red cardinals conspicuously stood out against the otherwise colorless expanse of land, rummaging through the snow for food.
On the porch, the plastic that covered the windows rattled slightly, obscuring my view. Every winter my Papa tacked the plastic up in an effort to keep old man winter at bay, so the porch could still be used comfortably, mainly by me. At one end of the porch Granny had set up one of many artificial Christmas trees, adorned with miscellaneous ornaments collected over a lifetime. Plastic mistletoe hung from the ceiling, while a foam Santa Claus kept watch from the corner, his fuzzy trim rubbed bare from seasons of use.
At the other end of the porch was a wooden picnic table. Each year after Labor Day it was brought inside to be protected from the elements, and at Christmas it was covered by a white tablecloth decorated with red poinsettias. In the middle sat an old record player, and next to that a pile of albums. Every December the record player and albums were brought out from the back of a closet in the living room. There were collections of Christmas favorites such as Jingle Bells, Rudolph, O Christmas tree, and Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. There were albums with Away in the Manger, These Three Kings, and Joy to the World, but the best record was never left on the porch. I had to ask for it.
I’m not sure when or how, but listening to the Nutcracker became one of my most beloved Christmas traditions. I would spin around the porch pretending to be a ballerina in a tutu and toe shoes, oblivious to the outside world, but I wasn’t alone. My granny thought nothing of joining me in my make believe world, and I like to believe that she enjoyed it as much as I did. She was beautiful in her red Christmas sweater, a small red velvet bow clipped into her gray curly hair. She would pluck flowers from her artificial arrangements and tuck them behind my ear, and we would dance away into worlds where no one else existed. These were worlds covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. These were worlds where everything was good and right and beautiful.
Over time, the record began to skip. I grew older, and traded in my make-believe world to search for things that were real, and the only thing I was sure of was that my juvenile fantasies were not a part of my search. I became too old for pretending to be a ballerina with Granny against the backdrop of The Nutcracker. I became too old for worlds I could only see with my mind’s eye. I drifted into an existence full of teen angst, where things were dark and dreary instead of sparkling with magic, everything seemed wrong, and life was never fair.
I didn’t know just how unfair life was until the Lord saw fit to take my Granny from this world after a lifelong struggle with Cancer. I knew she was sick, I knew she was in pain, and deep down I knew that God was being merciful. I was sixteen.
It was still years later before the heavy teenage fog would slowly begin to lift. I was able to see more clearly, and began to realize that sometimes we have to make our own joy, and that life can be dark and dreary now and then, but it is during those times when it’s okay to dance away into worlds of fairy dust, magic, and beauty.
I’m older now, a little worse for the wear, but wiser just the same. I miss my Granny – I miss her every day. As is the case with most folks, the holiday season seems to be the hardest. This is when I play The Nutcracker Suite on the phonograph and slip into a world I can only see with my mind’s eye. A World covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. This is a world where everything is good and right and beautiful. Granny is there waiting for me in her red Christmas sweater with the little velvet bow in her hair, and she is holding a flower to tuck behind my ear.
From the warmth of the enclosed porch I spied on the wintry scene outside. The wind was still, and the falling snowflakes silently joined those that had already formed a soft blanket over the landscape. Large boxwoods were swaddled in the white, giving the impression of mounds of cotton in the yard. Bright red cardinals conspicuously stood out against the otherwise colorless expanse of land, rummaging through the snow for food.
On the porch, the plastic that covered the windows rattled slightly, obscuring my view. Every winter my Papa tacked the plastic up in an effort to keep old man winter at bay, so the porch could still be used comfortably, mainly by me. At one end of the porch Granny had set up one of many artificial Christmas trees, adorned with miscellaneous ornaments collected over a lifetime. Plastic mistletoe hung from the ceiling, while a foam Santa Claus kept watch from the corner, his fuzzy trim rubbed bare from seasons of use.
At the other end of the porch was a wooden picnic table. Each year after Labor Day it was brought inside to be protected from the elements, and at Christmas it was covered by a white tablecloth decorated with red poinsettias. In the middle sat an old record player, and next to that a pile of albums. Every December the record player and albums were brought out from the back of a closet in the living room. There were collections of Christmas favorites such as Jingle Bells, Rudolph, O Christmas tree, and Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. There were albums with Away in the Manger, These Three Kings, and Joy to the World, but the best record was never left on the porch. I had to ask for it.
I’m not sure when or how, but listening to the Nutcracker became one of my most beloved Christmas traditions. I would spin around the porch pretending to be a ballerina in a tutu and toe shoes, oblivious to the outside world, but I wasn’t alone. My granny thought nothing of joining me in my make believe world, and I like to believe that she enjoyed it as much as I did. She was beautiful in her red Christmas sweater, a small red velvet bow clipped into her gray curly hair. She would pluck flowers from her artificial arrangements and tuck them behind my ear, and we would dance away into worlds where no one else existed. These were worlds covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. These were worlds where everything was good and right and beautiful.
Over time, the record began to skip. I grew older, and traded in my make-believe world to search for things that were real, and the only thing I was sure of was that my juvenile fantasies were not a part of my search. I became too old for pretending to be a ballerina with Granny against the backdrop of The Nutcracker. I became too old for worlds I could only see with my mind’s eye. I drifted into an existence full of teen angst, where things were dark and dreary instead of sparkling with magic, everything seemed wrong, and life was never fair.
I didn’t know just how unfair life was until the Lord saw fit to take my Granny from this world after a lifelong struggle with Cancer. I knew she was sick, I knew she was in pain, and deep down I knew that God was being merciful. I was sixteen.
It was still years later before the heavy teenage fog would slowly begin to lift. I was able to see more clearly, and began to realize that sometimes we have to make our own joy, and that life can be dark and dreary now and then, but it is during those times when it’s okay to dance away into worlds of fairy dust, magic, and beauty.
I’m older now, a little worse for the wear, but wiser just the same. I miss my Granny – I miss her every day. As is the case with most folks, the holiday season seems to be the hardest. This is when I play The Nutcracker Suite on the phonograph and slip into a world I can only see with my mind’s eye. A World covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. This is a world where everything is good and right and beautiful. Granny is there waiting for me in her red Christmas sweater with the little velvet bow in her hair, and she is holding a flower to tuck behind my ear.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Teen angst and hope for moms
I have read many blog entries about mothers having trouble with their teenagers. I am not a mother, but I remember well what it was like being a teenager. I was horrible, and regret the things I did on a daily basis. This is my story.
I was young when I figured out that I was different from other kids. Different in a way I still can’t put my finger on. Interested in things they weren’t. I didn’t like the music they liked, I didn’t like the clothes they liked, I didn’t like any of the things they did. I was in all the advanced classes until about eighth grade. I was bright and had high goals set for myself, I had decided that I would change the world.
My parents separated when I was about 11. The same time I was drifting farther and farther away from my peer group. I don’t blame any of my issues on my parent’s divorce. The issues are all inside me. I didn’t know how to handle being so different. Kids constantly made fun of me, and I just pushed myself away farther. I started hanging out with older kids, even though they weren’t much better. I turned inward, and found my dark side.
I had sex for the first time when I was about 12. I was spending the night with friends whose parents worked at night and we would have parties when they left. I also started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. My thoughts and fantasies of suicide also started around this time. I cried constantly, and turned into one of those kids that only wore black and kept themselves locked in their room. My mom took me to a psychiatrist, and I was diagnosed with clinical depression, a condition I will struggle with the rest of my life. I was prescribed Prozac, which made a difference, when I took it like I was supposed to.
I was about 14 when I started cutting myself. I used razor blades, caps from ink pens, and rubbed myself raw with pencil erasers. I also hit myself. I would punch my arms and legs until they were black and blue. I fought constantly with my mom, telling her I hated her, and that I wished I were dead; I slapped her across the face one time in a crowded restaurant, a vision that haunts me to this day.
When I went to high school, things got better and worse. I started hanging out with a group that was a little bit more like me, labeled the ‘hippie’ crowd. They encouraged more positive thinking, but lots of drugs and partying. I started using hallucinogenics and pills at this time. I would go to 3 day or longer concert events and stay strung out the whole time. I drifted back and forth from that group to what would today be called the ‘emo’ group. I finally found a niche when I was about 16. These are people I am still very close to today.
Things came apart at the seams my senior year when I had a falling out with my group. I’m still not sure what happened. I went away to college for a year, and found it was no better than high school as far as the cliques went. I lost interest, my depression returned full force, and I dropped out.
I made amends with my high school group and we all moved into a house together. There were at one time seven of us in the house, different people would move in and out, but a core group of 5 of us were steady dwellers in the ‘hippie compound’. We were famous for our parties and good times. I still run into people that say “Oh! You lived in the green house! I loved partying there!” I often have no idea who they are. My mom watched all this happening and it devastated her.
My ex was living there with me, and we decided to move into our own apartment. We both got steady jobs, and I got health insurance. I started seeing a psychiatrist again, and got a new cocktail of anti-depressants. This would have been around 2000. I was still using drugs, but mostly pot and at home. I had stopped dropping acid after a particularly bad trip where I saw myself dead, and my mom screaming. One good thing that came from this was I decided I would never kill myself because I ‘saw’ what it did to my mom.
Holding a steady job and taking my meds, I started doing better. I started to see that I didn’t like where my life was going. I started becoming closer with my mom, although I still held her at arm’s length due to my drug use.
One night in October of 2001, a group of people was sitting in my living room getting high. As the joint was being passed to me and I was hitting it, I thought to myself that it was stupid, and I didn’t really want to be doing it. I quit using drugs. My life quickly changed. I began talking to my mom on a regular basis. I had a medication regimen that was working, and I adhered to it. At this point in my life, I realised what a wonderful woman my mom is.
I went to school to be an LPN in 2004. I graduated in February of 2005 in the top five. Unfortunately, I had quit my full time job to go to school and lost my health insurance. I had no meds and no psychiatrist. It would be a year before the effects of this took their toll. In the summer of 2006, I had a mental breakdown. I was having problems finding a doctor that was covered by my insurance provider. The longer I went without my medication, the harder it was to do things for myself. I went downhill fast.
One day I made an appointment with a doctor I had never seen before. Not even a psychiatrist, but a family practitioner. I was about to lose my job and myself. I had to do something. When he walked in the room, I broke down. He said, “I am not a psychiatrist. I will not prescribe you anything. Make me a promise here and now that you will leave here and go straight to the emergency room, otherwise I will call an ambulance.” I went. He saved my life.
My mom met me at the E.R. I was admitted to the psychiatric unit of the local hospital for a week. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. My mom visited me every day on her lunch break. The doctors were able to stabilize me, and the social worker helped me find a psychiatrist in my network. I went back to the hospital as an outpatient 5 days a week for a month.
My new psychiatrist gave me every possible medication combination until we found one that worked. I have been stable since then. Even with everything that is going on in my life, I have found a strength that I never knew I had.
My mom is my best friend now. We talk every single day. I tell her everything. Through everything, she has always been there. She never gave up. When I was younger, I would get upset when people would say I look and sound exactly like her. Now I say “Thank you. My mother is a beautiful wonderful woman. That is a very nice compliment.”
I was young when I figured out that I was different from other kids. Different in a way I still can’t put my finger on. Interested in things they weren’t. I didn’t like the music they liked, I didn’t like the clothes they liked, I didn’t like any of the things they did. I was in all the advanced classes until about eighth grade. I was bright and had high goals set for myself, I had decided that I would change the world.
My parents separated when I was about 11. The same time I was drifting farther and farther away from my peer group. I don’t blame any of my issues on my parent’s divorce. The issues are all inside me. I didn’t know how to handle being so different. Kids constantly made fun of me, and I just pushed myself away farther. I started hanging out with older kids, even though they weren’t much better. I turned inward, and found my dark side.
I had sex for the first time when I was about 12. I was spending the night with friends whose parents worked at night and we would have parties when they left. I also started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. My thoughts and fantasies of suicide also started around this time. I cried constantly, and turned into one of those kids that only wore black and kept themselves locked in their room. My mom took me to a psychiatrist, and I was diagnosed with clinical depression, a condition I will struggle with the rest of my life. I was prescribed Prozac, which made a difference, when I took it like I was supposed to.
I was about 14 when I started cutting myself. I used razor blades, caps from ink pens, and rubbed myself raw with pencil erasers. I also hit myself. I would punch my arms and legs until they were black and blue. I fought constantly with my mom, telling her I hated her, and that I wished I were dead; I slapped her across the face one time in a crowded restaurant, a vision that haunts me to this day.
When I went to high school, things got better and worse. I started hanging out with a group that was a little bit more like me, labeled the ‘hippie’ crowd. They encouraged more positive thinking, but lots of drugs and partying. I started using hallucinogenics and pills at this time. I would go to 3 day or longer concert events and stay strung out the whole time. I drifted back and forth from that group to what would today be called the ‘emo’ group. I finally found a niche when I was about 16. These are people I am still very close to today.
Things came apart at the seams my senior year when I had a falling out with my group. I’m still not sure what happened. I went away to college for a year, and found it was no better than high school as far as the cliques went. I lost interest, my depression returned full force, and I dropped out.
I made amends with my high school group and we all moved into a house together. There were at one time seven of us in the house, different people would move in and out, but a core group of 5 of us were steady dwellers in the ‘hippie compound’. We were famous for our parties and good times. I still run into people that say “Oh! You lived in the green house! I loved partying there!” I often have no idea who they are. My mom watched all this happening and it devastated her.
My ex was living there with me, and we decided to move into our own apartment. We both got steady jobs, and I got health insurance. I started seeing a psychiatrist again, and got a new cocktail of anti-depressants. This would have been around 2000. I was still using drugs, but mostly pot and at home. I had stopped dropping acid after a particularly bad trip where I saw myself dead, and my mom screaming. One good thing that came from this was I decided I would never kill myself because I ‘saw’ what it did to my mom.
Holding a steady job and taking my meds, I started doing better. I started to see that I didn’t like where my life was going. I started becoming closer with my mom, although I still held her at arm’s length due to my drug use.
One night in October of 2001, a group of people was sitting in my living room getting high. As the joint was being passed to me and I was hitting it, I thought to myself that it was stupid, and I didn’t really want to be doing it. I quit using drugs. My life quickly changed. I began talking to my mom on a regular basis. I had a medication regimen that was working, and I adhered to it. At this point in my life, I realised what a wonderful woman my mom is.
I went to school to be an LPN in 2004. I graduated in February of 2005 in the top five. Unfortunately, I had quit my full time job to go to school and lost my health insurance. I had no meds and no psychiatrist. It would be a year before the effects of this took their toll. In the summer of 2006, I had a mental breakdown. I was having problems finding a doctor that was covered by my insurance provider. The longer I went without my medication, the harder it was to do things for myself. I went downhill fast.
One day I made an appointment with a doctor I had never seen before. Not even a psychiatrist, but a family practitioner. I was about to lose my job and myself. I had to do something. When he walked in the room, I broke down. He said, “I am not a psychiatrist. I will not prescribe you anything. Make me a promise here and now that you will leave here and go straight to the emergency room, otherwise I will call an ambulance.” I went. He saved my life.
My mom met me at the E.R. I was admitted to the psychiatric unit of the local hospital for a week. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. My mom visited me every day on her lunch break. The doctors were able to stabilize me, and the social worker helped me find a psychiatrist in my network. I went back to the hospital as an outpatient 5 days a week for a month.
My new psychiatrist gave me every possible medication combination until we found one that worked. I have been stable since then. Even with everything that is going on in my life, I have found a strength that I never knew I had.
My mom is my best friend now. We talk every single day. I tell her everything. Through everything, she has always been there. She never gave up. When I was younger, I would get upset when people would say I look and sound exactly like her. Now I say “Thank you. My mother is a beautiful wonderful woman. That is a very nice compliment.”
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Just stuff
*It has been a long and tiring week. I worked two double shifts. I am tired mentally and physically. I am grateful things went smoothly at work for the most part, even though I had to phone a doctor at 5:30 AM Saturday morning. He didn’t bite my head off, which is good as I am slightly attached to it. I am concerned, however, that I experienced the ‘calm before the storm’. There is a full moon on the tenth!
*My friend Elena’s birthday is tomorrow, and we celebrated yesterday with dinner at Sake, which is a Japanese steakhouse. It’s the kind of place where they prepare your meal at your table and do tricks for you. We had a good time and a good meal despite the fact that Elena’s sister was there, hung-over and bitchy. I was stuck sitting next to her. She grumbled the whole time and told us about hanging out at the strip club where she used to be a stripper. She was rude to the chef and the staff. I was glad when she had to leave early.
*I went out and saw a band at The Madison last night, as well. Be proud, I had four cocktails and drank water the rest of the time! The band was pretty good, and played music I liked. The girl I met there last time that danced with me was there again last night. We had fun dancing, and she was very impressed that I can disco. (I can disco!)
*If you read my post about being sexually harassed by an 80 year old man, then I want you to know things are better at the moment. The Assistant Director of Nursing and social worker spoke to his family. The doctor has also been consulted. I avoid him at all costs!
*I’m a little behind with reading blogs due to my work schedule. I read an entry by Natalie about there being relationships outside of blog land, and not ranting because someone might read it. Not only do I rant, but I tell some very personal information and stories from my job. Thus, you all know me as Vevay. There is only one person that I know in real life that even knows about this blog, or knows my pen name. I like to feel that I can tell anything here, and I won’t be judged. Even if you do want to judge me, which I don’t think any of you are like that, it’s not like you are going to tell it all around my town! Let it out, Nat! (Even if you have to change your name lol!)
*The weather here has been warming up. I always tell myself that if I can make it through February I will be okay. March is here, and things are looking up, even though it is raining today. Makes me think of a Beatles song entitled ‘Rain’. “If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads. They might as well be dead. When the sun shines, they slip into the shade, and sip their lemonade.” I sing it every time it rains, and force myself to walk slowly in it. We’re just never happy, are we?!
*Some things you probably don’t know about me…I’m a Beatlemaniac. I love penguins. Every time I see a dead animal on the side of the road, I cross myself (even though I’m not Catholic) and say a prayer hoping it didn’t suffer. I have two fat cats named Scout and Boo Radley. They are named after characters in my favourite book, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’ When Boo gets in trouble, which he usually does, I call him Mr. Arthur. I re-read Mockingbird 4 or 5 times a year. I like to drive with my windows down even when it is cold. I am trusting to a fault, and am unfortunately having to correct that. I originally started blogging to help me deal with the death of my dog and how it was related to my divorce. I LOVE jewelry, but not things like diamonds. Turquoise is my favourite. The night I kicked my husband out, I did three things, in this order: 1) I took off my wedding and engagement rings and put on a large turquoise ring so I wouldn’t have an empty spot on that finger. 2) I transferred most of the money from our joint account into my personal account so it wouldn’t all go up his nose. 3) I went to my mom’s.
*My friend Elena’s birthday is tomorrow, and we celebrated yesterday with dinner at Sake, which is a Japanese steakhouse. It’s the kind of place where they prepare your meal at your table and do tricks for you. We had a good time and a good meal despite the fact that Elena’s sister was there, hung-over and bitchy. I was stuck sitting next to her. She grumbled the whole time and told us about hanging out at the strip club where she used to be a stripper. She was rude to the chef and the staff. I was glad when she had to leave early.
*I went out and saw a band at The Madison last night, as well. Be proud, I had four cocktails and drank water the rest of the time! The band was pretty good, and played music I liked. The girl I met there last time that danced with me was there again last night. We had fun dancing, and she was very impressed that I can disco. (I can disco!)
*If you read my post about being sexually harassed by an 80 year old man, then I want you to know things are better at the moment. The Assistant Director of Nursing and social worker spoke to his family. The doctor has also been consulted. I avoid him at all costs!
*I’m a little behind with reading blogs due to my work schedule. I read an entry by Natalie about there being relationships outside of blog land, and not ranting because someone might read it. Not only do I rant, but I tell some very personal information and stories from my job. Thus, you all know me as Vevay. There is only one person that I know in real life that even knows about this blog, or knows my pen name. I like to feel that I can tell anything here, and I won’t be judged. Even if you do want to judge me, which I don’t think any of you are like that, it’s not like you are going to tell it all around my town! Let it out, Nat! (Even if you have to change your name lol!)
*The weather here has been warming up. I always tell myself that if I can make it through February I will be okay. March is here, and things are looking up, even though it is raining today. Makes me think of a Beatles song entitled ‘Rain’. “If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads. They might as well be dead. When the sun shines, they slip into the shade, and sip their lemonade.” I sing it every time it rains, and force myself to walk slowly in it. We’re just never happy, are we?!
*Some things you probably don’t know about me…I’m a Beatlemaniac. I love penguins. Every time I see a dead animal on the side of the road, I cross myself (even though I’m not Catholic) and say a prayer hoping it didn’t suffer. I have two fat cats named Scout and Boo Radley. They are named after characters in my favourite book, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’ When Boo gets in trouble, which he usually does, I call him Mr. Arthur. I re-read Mockingbird 4 or 5 times a year. I like to drive with my windows down even when it is cold. I am trusting to a fault, and am unfortunately having to correct that. I originally started blogging to help me deal with the death of my dog and how it was related to my divorce. I LOVE jewelry, but not things like diamonds. Turquoise is my favourite. The night I kicked my husband out, I did three things, in this order: 1) I took off my wedding and engagement rings and put on a large turquoise ring so I wouldn’t have an empty spot on that finger. 2) I transferred most of the money from our joint account into my personal account so it wouldn’t all go up his nose. 3) I went to my mom’s.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Happy Thoughts. Kittens and Puppies and Rainbows!
More stuff that I like. I'm trying to fill myself with positive things. I've got a long week ahead of me, and want to start out in the lead!
1) Beautiful music with meaningful lyrics. This is one of my favourites, by The Eagles. The lines are from ‘Seven Bridges Road’.
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
2) Open smiles and twinkling eyes, looking like they hold a secret.
3) Albums. As in vinyl and turntables.
4) Dancing in the living room all night with my best friend. Listening to albums!
5) The wonderful pedicure I got today!
6) Being happy for a friend who has been home for 3 months after living out of state for the past 9 years.
7) Sunshine! Had some today. Even though it was cold, I had my window down as I drove down the highway.
8) Reading blogs that make me feel like we’re all having the same kind of thoughts that day. Sometimes it’s eerie! Or maybe it’s just me.
9) The girls who work midnights. They are always trying to feed me. Even if It’s sharing their sandwich. Sometimes it’s very interesting. One night Tonya offered me a dish that included Ramen Noodles, chili and steak. I politely declined.
10) Being able to pick up double shifts! I know I say this all the time, but the economy is horrible, and so is finding and keeping a job. I’m thankful to have one!
1) Beautiful music with meaningful lyrics. This is one of my favourites, by The Eagles. The lines are from ‘Seven Bridges Road’.
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
2) Open smiles and twinkling eyes, looking like they hold a secret.
3) Albums. As in vinyl and turntables.
4) Dancing in the living room all night with my best friend. Listening to albums!
5) The wonderful pedicure I got today!
6) Being happy for a friend who has been home for 3 months after living out of state for the past 9 years.
7) Sunshine! Had some today. Even though it was cold, I had my window down as I drove down the highway.
8) Reading blogs that make me feel like we’re all having the same kind of thoughts that day. Sometimes it’s eerie! Or maybe it’s just me.
9) The girls who work midnights. They are always trying to feed me. Even if It’s sharing their sandwich. Sometimes it’s very interesting. One night Tonya offered me a dish that included Ramen Noodles, chili and steak. I politely declined.
10) Being able to pick up double shifts! I know I say this all the time, but the economy is horrible, and so is finding and keeping a job. I’m thankful to have one!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Communication Breakdown
I'm on a tirade about text messaging. Again. I love it, I hate it. This is also a repost, so I'm sorry if you have already read it.
Some think that with the addition of computers and mobile phones it is easier than ever to communicate with the rest of the world. My personal thought on the matter is that our society is experiencing a communication breakdown.
I’ve said it many times before, all connotation and intonation is lost in text. Things quickly become twisted when you are unable to hear the other person’s voice. You are left wondering exactly what it was they meant by that comment. Was it anger or sadness? Were they being sarcastic or callous? Running through these options in your head is tiring and frustrating.
I understand that there’s not always time in our busy lives for a phone call. It’s awesome to get a text message from someone in the middle of the day when they just want to say hi, or they love you, whatever. It shows someone is thinking about you. It’s great to get a joke. It’s convenient to remind someone to pick up milk on their way home or that the party starts at eight.
Please don’t try to tell me anything deeper or more important in a text, instant message, or e-mail. Even a hand written letter is better. Ideally, I would like to talk in person so I can see your facial expressions and body language. At least call me so I can hear the inflection in your voice.
Writing lol, jp/jk, : ) or ; ) are not substitutes for laughing, joking, smiling or winking. I stand helplessly by as civilization forgets how to communicate. *SMH*.
Some think that with the addition of computers and mobile phones it is easier than ever to communicate with the rest of the world. My personal thought on the matter is that our society is experiencing a communication breakdown.
I’ve said it many times before, all connotation and intonation is lost in text. Things quickly become twisted when you are unable to hear the other person’s voice. You are left wondering exactly what it was they meant by that comment. Was it anger or sadness? Were they being sarcastic or callous? Running through these options in your head is tiring and frustrating.
I understand that there’s not always time in our busy lives for a phone call. It’s awesome to get a text message from someone in the middle of the day when they just want to say hi, or they love you, whatever. It shows someone is thinking about you. It’s great to get a joke. It’s convenient to remind someone to pick up milk on their way home or that the party starts at eight.
Please don’t try to tell me anything deeper or more important in a text, instant message, or e-mail. Even a hand written letter is better. Ideally, I would like to talk in person so I can see your facial expressions and body language. At least call me so I can hear the inflection in your voice.
Writing lol, jp/jk, : ) or ; ) are not substitutes for laughing, joking, smiling or winking. I stand helplessly by as civilization forgets how to communicate. *SMH*.
Late night phone calls
Late night phone calls - another thing on my list of things I like!
Plastic hot against my ear.
Imagining that you are near.
Conversations whispered,
Though there is no one
To hear.
Late night phone calls-
The hours slip past.
Your voice grows husky
In a darkness so vast.
Lying in my bed-
Contemplating
The words you have said.
Late nights alone,
I hold your words tight.
The words you spoke
That kept me awake
all those nights.
Lying in the dark,
I wait for the call
To hear you tell me
That you did mean it all.
Plastic hot against my ear.
Imagining that you are near.
Conversations whispered,
Though there is no one
To hear.
Late night phone calls-
The hours slip past.
Your voice grows husky
In a darkness so vast.
Lying in my bed-
Contemplating
The words you have said.
Late nights alone,
I hold your words tight.
The words you spoke
That kept me awake
all those nights.
Lying in the dark,
I wait for the call
To hear you tell me
That you did mean it all.
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