Thursday, June 30, 2005
The man from my dreams... (the fantasy)
He deserves to be here, to be remembered as the truly awesome person he was when I knew him.
When I met him, I was awe struck. He was gorgeous; that tanned, blue eyed, toned, sleek good looking so often accommodating surfers and singers. Alas, he was neither. But he was there, in front of me and smiling and not seeing me. It would be three more years before he would say my name. But, he stood there with me, with others and came to a business arrangement and then came to work in my yard, in my view, for the next few weeks.
Who was I then? I was that girl without hope. I was still tied into that first tumultuous relationship with AZ, I was still trapped, still fettered to him. I was so lost, so unsure of who I was, so positive that my worth was so little.
He didn't see me, as I said before. Sure, he looked at me, smiled at me, said 'hello' and 'how are you', but he didn't see me. But he and I were different people then, just as we are different people now.
Every day he was there, in my yard, working. I've said he was gorgeous and every day he was there with his shirt off and his skin gleaming, I was drawn to the window, prone to looking out at him and allowing my mind to wander in between chores around the house.
You know how you can just tell someone is looking at you? You can feel that burning on your skin, the hair on your neck crawls, that whisper in the back of your mind? I must have been so quiet even in those ways because he never saw my longing glances nor the moving of the curtains, he never once turned and looked in my direction. He just worked. In my imagination, the writer's nook of my mind, I was wondering what he was thinking, where his mind was all those hours he worked. To be alone with your thoughts for so long, surely his mind was wandering, I wanted to know where.
AZ was angry, bitter with jealousy, positive that I would invite him in and betray AZ. The thought was so ludicrous, he couldn't see me. And then he left and then he vanished from my sight and my reality and entered my dreams. Being that I have an overactive imagination, when I go to sleep at night, I often allow my mind to play with ideas of things that will probably never happen. In that hour, while I drifted to sleep, I thought of him. It is so easy to fantasize about the unattainable, to replay those same moments over and over in your head changing the script, changing the movements, changing the looks. And he became the man of my dreams, the man I invested my fantasies into, who smiled at me and brushed the hair from my forehead before he brushed it with his lips.
AZ left, the musician moved to Chicago, NY came and went, and all the while I dreamt of someone else. He held me while I slept, he smiled at me, he took my hand and pulled me to him, his blue eyes bore into me when he spoke while I was sleeping. But when I awoke, I went back to reality, where he didn't know my name.
Then I moved back. I left NY (the person, not the city) and moved back. And circumstances threw me back into his world. His altered world. In the three years that had past since I had last seen him, he had been through a relationship and had a child. When I moved back, I learned through his mother of how he had been, what he had been doing. It was part of my reconditioning to moving back to the place I had lived before.
His mother hired me to work with her which saved me in so many ways. She has saved me in so many ways over the years and I am so lucky to know her and count her as a friend. So, she gave me a job which is like gold when you are broke and have a newborn baby. While we worked, we talked and when she talked she sometimes mentioned him and I would listen hungrily for anything about him. A few weeks later, she brought his son with us, he had needed a babysitter and she had offered. And then she asked me if I would be interested in watching his son because he was in dire need of someone to do it. There were two reasons I jumped on this offer. The first was the fact that I needed the money so desperately and the second was that I was still holding out to see him again. But it would be weeks before he would come to pick him up. I remember the day, I remember that I was nervous. My children were there, Triniti in her swing on the porch near my mother and his mother who were smoking cigarettes and talking. Amanda and Emilee and his son ran around the yard playing and I was cleaning up the mess from dinner. I had the door open and I was watching the kids. My hair, several inches longer than it is now, was in a braid down my back. I finished in the kitchen a few minutes before he got there. I walked out onto the porch and sat on a stair halfway down and lit a cigarette. It was a nice day, mid-Summer and cool, and I was watching the kids play their game when I heard his truck door shut. My stomach muscles tightened with that unfamiliar nervousness, but I stayed where I was and waited to see him appear again in my reality.
continued...Labels: History Lesson
The man from my dreams... (the reality)
previous...
He was the same. I mean of course that in the years that had past very little about the way he looked had changed. His face no longer had that youth like innocence, but it never does once you become a parent. But he was still so nice to look at and still so ready to have fun, carefree. And that was what he did and what I was so pleased to see. He ran across the yard and scooped his son up from behind spinning him and spinning him as the little boy laughed hysterically. Then he set him on the ground and went right down to his level to speak to him. The words I couldn't hear, but the way he looked at his son was with such love, such joy. Then, as it is with children, my daughters begged to be swung and spun and he obliged them all several times, leaving them in a fit of giggles as he walked across the yard to the porch. And then he saw me. He held my eye as he crossed the yard and he smiled. My stomach was mad with butterflies and it took all I had to remain calm and simply smile back rather than avert my eyes.
He stopped in front of me and from where I was sitting, he wasn't much taller. He said something, idle conversation about how his son had behaved and how grateful he was and I returned the words but I wasn't there, I was so shocked and so stunned and so happy to be talking to him. Sure, it sounds crazy, but this was the guy I dreamt about, the guy who saved me in my sleep and who loved me in my fantasies and here he was smiling at me and seeing me for the first time since we had met three years earlier. Not long after that he left me there, floating.
I called him first. We both had each other's numbers since I was taking care of his son, but I called him first. I remember that I had to think of a reason but I can't remember what it was... probably something silly like his son leaving something at my house and I just wanted him to know. I was afraid that he had just been being nice when he stopped by to drop off or pick up his son, but that phone call solidified that he was genuinely interested in being, if nothing else, my friend. We talked for a couple of hours about a hundred different things that I couldn't remember now to save my life. But, when I went to bed that night, I was the girl with the stars in her eyes. The next time he came over, he stayed for dinner. He was so polite and so sweet and such a good father. Needless to say, I was enamored.
I continued to baby-sit his son and he continued to pick him up, each time staying a little longer, his presence being a little less intimidating each time. It almost became ritualistic. He would get there in the evenings and have dinner with us, sometimes leaving soon after and sometimes staying for some conversation and cigarettes on the porch. Once we got past the awkwardness and had settled nicely into our friendship, he started coming over without a reason and we became rivals in gin rummy. Almost every night of the week, we would play cards after the kids went to sleep. And when we didn't feel like playing cards (which was hardly ever the case) we'd watch a movie. A few months passed this way and I had put the idea of him wanting anything more than friendship from me out of my mind. In fact, I was so happy for the company of another adult who I enjoyed so much that I wouldn't even have jeopardized it.
It was September so fast and every year his mother held her weekend long birthday party during the week of the full moon. We both went and I really realized over that weekend that nothing was ever going to happen between us. People flocked to him, to his presence, his goodness. Everyone liked him and wanted to be around him and I felt so little, so separate. He still smiled at me and still came over and stood with his hand on my shoulder and made casual chit chat but I felt out of place, out of his league - even as his friend. But I accepted what it was and expected nothing more than our card games and conversations on my porch. Let them have him for the weekend, I just want to see him again the next week.
And I did. He came over the next week with a big bottle of wine and we resumed our ongoing game joking about how he had only brought the wine so he could win the game. Hours passed and we talked and listened and played and laughed and then went out to the porch to smoke. I sat on the stairs, in the same place I had been when he had first seen me. I looked at the stars and the waning moon and listened to him talk to me in that voice - low and smooth and that laugh that was just a little raspy. He sat on the step above mine and I almost leaned back, almost rested on his legs... we were that comfortable together. But I caught myself, remembered that we weren't that comfortable. But that thought had no sooner entered my mind then his hands were on my shoulders and he was working some of the tension from them.
I was confused and exhilarated. I was wondering what to say, what to do, how to react, how to respond and hadn't figured any of it out when he really did brush the hair from my face, when he really did trail those fingers down my cheek to my lips, when he really did kiss me. Nothing I had dreamt was even close to that kiss, to the feel of his real hands running up my back to my neck, to the way his skin smelled.
When it ended and he sat there with his hands still on me and I opened my eyes and looked into his, it all seemed so surreal, so impossible. He touched my face again and smiled at me and I laughed. It wasn't a nervous laugh, but a happy laugh. Most guys would have looked at me strangely upon receiving such a response to their kiss, but I think he knew, I think he had studied me so much during all those days and hours and minutes that he may have even been expecting it. Rather than question it just yet, I just leaned back, like I had wanted to and enjoyed the way his arms felt around me.
the visuals are here, here and here
found one more hereLabels: History Lesson
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Saw this on The Educated Liberal and felt it was worthy of sharing! In case you are keeping score:Canada - 1USA - 0
the day off
Normally, when I have the day off, I will work on something brilliant... ok, well long at least ;) to post on here. I will hammer out a couple pages of history lessons or work on another project like one of my fiction projects. Yesterday, though, I had the day off and did neither. In fact, I made it a point to stay away from the computer as much as possible. I instead spent the day pretending like I was a housewife (per se). I took my daughters to the library (instead of overhauling my kitchen), then down to the river to take some pictures (instead of vacuuming the house). They, of course, accidentally fell in and rather than get pissed off or get them into the car, I let them swim for about an hour (instead of cleaning my living room).How awesome the day was. To just hang out with my girls and play. To sit on the floor in the library and put puzzles together with Triniti or help Amanda pick out a couple of R. L. Stine books to read or show Emilee how to look up books on the computer. To sit on the riverbank and watch my daughters laugh and splash and swim in their clothes. To ignore housework and bills and being a grown up for one day and enjoy being a mom.The icing on the cake was watching Triniti do so excellently during her first gymnastics class. She has so much energy and has such a hard time sitting still unless her mind is occupied and I was so proud of her that she was able to cooperate as well as she did with her instructor.It was a good day.~Kate
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
good morning sunshine
Since acquiring my flickr account (THANKS EL), I have begun browsing photographers. And in doing so have been lucky to find many very talented people as well as jump into the realm of voyeur. I recently ran across this fine man and his work (which is awesome). Because, seriously, who wouldn't love to see this in the morning? Or this?
Probably doesn't help that the man is gorgeous and half naked (or completely naked) and I haven't been laid in...
Well... who's counting?
:P
~K
need.... sleep....
Wow, ok, I now have tons of respect for ppl who sell things on ebay! Geez. Pictures, cropping, renaming, folders, listing (on DIALUP!)...Takes HOURS!But, I have started :) Wanna see?Here's what I have listed so far... only like 20 something charms, but I have about 200 more ready to go.Have to sleep first though :P~Kate
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Sunday morning breakfast
On Sunday mornings, as per my Mommy Contract, I make a breakfast that involves some kind of cooking. Cooking isn't really my thing and I prefer to do it as little as possible (which is why I am so happy we have things like cereal and Jimmy Dean microwavable sandwiches). I also insist that my children eat healthy (like 88% of the time), so they will eat fruit through out the day as well as string cheese or applesauce. But on Sundays, I break out the cast iron skillet and heat up the oven and create a breakfast that makes us all want to go back to bed after eating it. This morning, I did just that. I made eggs (sunny side up), sausage patties, biscuits, hashbrowns, and toast (which is mainly used to soak up the yolk of the eggs). I never complain about this even though I would much rather be laying in bed while the girls munch down cereal. So, this morning, when Emilee got all pissed off at me, I was surprised.
She said that she was tired of always having breakfast on Sundays. That we always have the same things on Sundays. Always eggs (accompanied by their entourage) or french toast (when I am feeling lazy) or pancakes (when I am feeling really lazy... or hungover). The reason for this argument was that I wouldn't let her have cereal. If I have to cook, then they are going to eat. So she slithered off to the living room to pout and I continued with my culinary escapades. About ten minutes later, Amanda is making toast and I am setting the table. Emilee comes back out of the bedroom and stands by the fridge trying to look pissy. But I can see her eyes wandering to the hashbrowns. She is trying to figure out a way to get some without withdrawing her previous complaint and looking silly. How like her mother she is. Rather starve than apologize, lol. I catch her eye and ask her if the hashbrowns look good and she smiles. I ask her if she would like some and she says ok and heads over to the table and sits down. She also took some eggs, a sausage, some bread (she doesn't like hers toasted), and a nectarine. I knew she would.
Sunday morning breakfast is one of my favorite times of the week. The girls and I get to make plans for the upcoming week and talk about whatever has been going on in our minds over the last few days. We barter allowance pay and I finagle chores out of them. It's very lackadaisical. We aren't in any hurry because we aren't going any where. We can just sit and eat and talk. And they always clean up afterwards, which is nice.
Since I have become a parent, there have been many traditions that I implemented that were never a part of my childhood. Every year for Thanksgiving, we go to Aunt Tempest's house on the coast, every Christmas we stay home, every Sunday we have breakfast as a family and it seems like our newest one is every July Fourth we go to The Cake Lady's for a BBQ and fireworks. I wonder how many of these traditions will be carried on by my children... Will they sit with their families and eat breakfast on Sundays or will Amanda take her children to her best friend's houses for various holidays... Am I helping them form healthy relationships by feeding them breakfast on Sundays? Or by loading them up in the car to head for the coast to have turkey every year? I hope so.
~Kate
Saturday, June 25, 2005
follow up
It's almost like Amanda knew that I spent a few hours dreading her growing up. When I got home tonight, she asked me to paint her nails. I get all the nail polish and we sit down to pick out some colors. Now, I have a lot of nail polish... like thirty bottles - maybe more. So, she picks out the sparkly red and I do her toenails. Then Emilee comes in and I paint her toenails neon orange with pink sparkles on top. Then Amanda asks if I will paint her finger nails and I say sure. She hands me a bottle of dark blue. DARK. I kind of look at her weird but don't say anything. (This isn't my nail polish by the way, I think it is some of Ruthie's old polish. I do have blues and greens and purples, but nothing that dark.) As I am painting her nails, she says to me, "I wish this was black."Black.My daughter wants to paint her nails black.*grimace*~Kate
Friday, June 24, 2005
art and an announcement
With much thanks to my sister and The Educated Liberal, here is Amanda's painting.
I had to scan it multiple times to get it all, Ruthie pieced it together and EL resized it for me. That whole thing about a village...And.. shit. Hang on. I am trying to find the drum roll button...Here it is. **DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!!**I have converted yet another non-blogger. This time, though, it is my own little sister! Please, click here and come see her blog. Bookmark her, add her to your sidebar, and check back often :)~Kate
My daughter, Amanda (one)
I wrote about Emilee the other day and had been trying to figure out what I would write about Amanda… They are so different in so many ways… Then, Auburn Pisces.
With Amanda being my first, I often go back to the beginning in my mind. She was born on November 19, 1996 at 8:20 in the morning. She changed me. The second that little girl was born, everything child-like from me was gone, everything selfish of me vanished, every want I had was lessened, and every love I had was muted. She deafened me. She made everything else seem small and ridiculous. Amazing how a tiny baby is capable of making everything different.
The first time I held her you could probably hear the change, you could hear my heart change shape and form (much like the Grinch, lol). I stared at her in disbelief. I can honestly tell you that before Amanda was born, my experience with babies was nil. In fact the closest thing to a baby I had seen in so many years was a toddler. I thought I was getting a puppy, in human form, for god sakes. Someone I would have to feed and play with. No one, no one, can explain to you the way you feel. No one can even begin to take the intricacies of being a parent and break them down for you. You do not know until it happens and then you are forever changed, forever unable to return to that place you were before and never would you want to.
I grew up with Amanda. She taught me how to be a mother, how to be her mother. I learned through my experiences with her what kind of mom I wanted to be and how to do it. I was morphing as she grew and probably still am with every day.
This year, Amanda will be nine years old. Nine. That probably sounds like nothing, you are probably thinking ‘so what?’… But that's because you don't understand. You see, nine is half way to eighteen. Eighteen is legally an adult and college and the freedom to move wherever in the world her heart desires. Eighteen is freedom, period. It is a time for mistakes and lessons and heartbreak and failure. We’ve all been eighteen (some of us sooner than others) and I am scared for her. I want to protect her and in a matter of years, I’ll have to step back.
You are probably thinking that I still have nine more years and that I shouldn’t be freaking out just yet. But, you don’t realize that Amanda was just born last month and just started school last week and just yesterday she was seven. Where did it go? When did she turn eight?? How did we get here so quickly?? And if the first eight years were over in a blink of an eye, am I going to blink again and she’ll be gone? Married or traveling or living and loving in a city so far away that she doesn't even think of me except on Sundays when she calls home to say hello.
But I am talking about me, not her.
part two...
My daughter, Amanda (two)
She is so mature, so sophisticated. She has always loved using large words and would work them into a sentence so nonchalantly. When she was four, Emilee was pestering her and she looked straight at her and said "Emilee, is that really necessary?" Necessary is four syllables! lol She has always been so grown up, always taken that oldest sister role and went with it. She thinks for herself and comes to conclusions for herself and she stands firm in what she knows. She is friendly and opinionated. You can correct her and she blushes but registers that information for a later date. She always asks questions, she wants to know everything she can know. She is brutally honest and will tell me "Mommy, you shouldn't wear that, it makes you look fat." She loves her sisters and told me a few weeks ago, "Mommy, I am so glad that you gave me sisters. I don't know what I would do with out them."
She wants to be a veterinarian. She has wanted that for as long as she can remember. She loves animals, all animals. When she was five, a dog that my mom had caught a baby bunny and she marched right up to that dog and took the bunny out of his mouth and tried to make it all right. When the bunny died, she cried for him. She still cries. In a time when many kids are hiding their tears and just dealing, Amanda still cries. If you hurt her feelings, she will cry.
She is helpful and organized. When she puts the dishes away, she puts them where they belong. She doesn't half ass things. She pays attention to what's going on around her and she knows when I am sad. She loves to read and write and make up poems and that is so me. She looks like me. God, she is me. She is my little clone in looks, in personality, in interests, in temper.
She is a good friend. She won't betray her friendships and she genuinely loves her friends. If they are mean to her or mad at her she just doesn't understand it. She writes notes in school and tells secrets.
She has a mad crush on Jesse McCartney and if it is with in my powers, she will meet him at a concert one day. I don't care how much the tickets cost.
But she has changed. Oh, god, she has changed. She doesn't need me the way she did once. She doesn't run to me with everything and ask for help, for answers. In fact, most crisis' pass by without my ever having known about them. After the fact, I get a recap and she explains how she handled everything and I am left in awe watching her walk away. I know that she will leave me shocked so many times becuse I know that so many of my firsts will come with her.
Like today, it's just she and I driving to gymnastics and she tells me she can't wait to be ten. I asked her why and she told me that she thought when she was ten, she would have boobs. I laughed and told her that she probably wouldn't have boobs when she was ten. But she has noticed, just as I have, that her body is changing. That she is growing. She and I are having conversations now that are more grown up than kid stuff.
I could list accolades for days and those of you who know me in real life know that I do. That I will call you, out of the blue, to brag about my kids. Amanda won a spot on student council (via election) at the end of this past school year. Next year is the first year she is eligible and she will be on student council. She won first place in the art competition for her school and third place for an out of school art competition. She is A honor roll every year.
I could go on for days, but the fact that I am trying to get across is that she is so exceedingly cool. She does things, every day, that reassure me that I am doing a good job as her mother. Which is nice since she has reallyguineahe guinnea pig, what with being first and all.
She still kisses me goodbye and public and runs over to hug me if I come to school. She still wants me to go on field trips and hang out with her and her friends. I am still cool today, still her friend, still her confidant. She may argue with me and get angry, but she doesn't say she hates me or she wishes she had another mother. In fact, to her, I am still 'the best mommy in the world'. And I am relishing every second of it because if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be me.
~Kate
Thursday, June 23, 2005
phone call
So, Mr. I just called me. He said he had racked himself. We chatted for like ten minutes and then he says, "Ok, well, I have to go. I just called because my nuts hurt and it reminded me of you."
lol
~KateLabels: Mr. I
a new toy
Not the kind of toy that Jiffinner and The Girl recommended I buy after my post the other day, but just as exciting!
My dad bought me a digital camera yesterday! It should be here in the next week or so and I am jazzed :) I hadn't really needed one for the last few years because Ruthie always had one that I could use whenever I needed it. With her off gallivanting in Hawaii though, I don't have one. Mentioned it to my dad and viola!
It is a Fujiflm FinePix S3000. I was looking around online and decided that if he was going to get me one, I didn't want to break his bank nor have him spend a huge chunk of money on something I may break or lose. (I just don't trust myself after having dropped my cell phone in the bath tub.)
So, after some browsing, I decided I like the S3000 and he went ahead and bought it for me! :)
Here's a pic of the camera I will use to take pics with:
I'm all jazzed!
~Kate
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
from long ago and far away
I have many email accounts. I signed up on hotmail the very first time I got an email account and have since opened several more. I was lucky to have acquired them all before MSN stopped allowing you to download your mail onto Outlook (which I use, religiously). That said, when I open Outlook, I have about ten accounts that load. I have one for Amanda and Emilee that they share, another for my computer illiterate mother and I also keep track of Veronique's two accounts. I primarily use about four of them. One that I use to receive all of your (my fantastic readers) emails and comments, another for family and friends and so on...
The very first email account that I ever opened gets about twenty email messages a day - all junk. They go to my junk folder and I usually scan them very quickly and then click delete. I did that this morning after seeing mostly advertisements for viagra and Christian dating sites and other various spam. About an hour later, though, I accidentally erased something that I had meant to keep and when I went to retrieve it from my deleted items folder, I saw something very odd.
Directly under the accidentally erased email was an email from AZ, Amanda and Emilee's father. I just stared at it. It said, very simply: "Hello [Kate] I miss Talking to my beuatiful darling daughters and you also call sometime xxx-xxx-xxxx"
Yeah, grammar and spelling aside... omg. An email from the man I haven't spoken to in over two years and seen in over five. Always catches me off guard.
I have given AZ an abundance of chances. Every time he has contacted me, I have given him the benefit of the doubt. I even allowed the girls to speak with him a few times. Usually we hear from him the most after he has been released from jail and is clean and sober. I have no idea why I am hearing from him now since he hasn't been incarcerated for over two years. Maybe he got bored while screwing around online and decided to look me up? Maybe this will be like the last time and he won't ever respond to my return email? I have no idea...
He has been on drugs for so long now that I really don't even know who was, let alone who he is now. I do know that he hasn't been a father to my girls in all of the time that their memory encompasses. I know that he hasn't made any effort in so long to be near them or provide for them in any way. I know, in my heart, that if he truly loved them, truly missed them, that he would actually do something, anything to be near them... to love them... And yet, nothing.
This will probably be the same as every other time I have heard from him. He will simply fade back into the darkness from which he has momentarily emerged and it will be several more years before he utters a sound.
~Kate
Well this explains so much...
There must be a typo on my birth certificate, because I must really be thirty and not the twenty five I had previously assumed...This is for all girls 30 years and over.... and for those who are turning 30, and for those who are scared of moving into their 30's... AND for guys who are scared of girls over 30!!!! This was written by Andy Rooney from CBS 60 Minutes.
Andy Rooney says: As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:
A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.
If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.
A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.
Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.
Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.
A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.
Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know. A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women.
Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.
Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.
Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.
Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free". Here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage ...Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage.Thanks to TG for this :)
~Kate
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
In regards to sex...
Check this out. Seems a crab pulled out of the water near Gwynns Island is both male and female.
a question....
How long can one go without having sex before bitching is permitted? Is 37 days long enough? Theoretically... of course...
~Kate
Monday, June 20, 2005
What naughty my little pony are you?
You Are Subversion!
You are systematic and secretive. Sometimes even very calculating. Most everyone trusts you but they have no idea what really goes on in your head. You are capable of being nice or mean, whatever a situation calls for. You look out for #1. What Naughty My Little Pony Are You?
Borrowed from here.
~Kate
The worst has past...
So, a bottle of Nyquil, several dozen episodes of Law & Order, a few cats naps, a lot of tea, some nasal spray, two boxes of tissues, about forty ice pops (mostly green, blue, and yellow), half a dozen aleve sinus headaches, and a ton of time on my couch - and I am alive, lol.
To be honest, I know I have never spent that much time in my living room since I moved in. During the weekend, I am almost always cleaning the house and only sit down to watch tv for an hour or two. This weekend, my ass was stuck to the fucking couch. Saturday, Emilee forced me to watch pieces of cartoons all day. But on Sunday, Emilee went to her friends house for a sleepover and Amanda was on barbie.com all day, so the tv was mine :) And TNT plays Law & Order back to back all day :)
After Law & Order, there was that mini-series Into The West. Each episode of this is two hours long and they showed the first and second installments, so now, I can't wait for this weekend so I can see the third. This was a truly awesome show. I am all into historical fiction. One of my favorite authors is Lucia St. Clair Robson. She has written many books about many different types of Indians and how their lives changed with the coming of white men to their land. All of her stuff is absolutely worth reading and owning and reading again.
Anyway, that pretty much covers me. I ate popsicles and laid on my couch all weekend trying to battle the evilness in my head that was producing snot and fevers. I feel slightly better today but wish I were still home because my head isn't completely straight yet :) Thanks you guys for your emails and for your comments on here :)
Hope your weekend was awesome :)
~Kate
Saturday, June 18, 2005
I'm sick
If I had the energy, I would jump up and down and say not fair, not fair, not fair! Over and over again. This fucking blows. I feel like stepped on shit. My head is a bowling ball full of evil and my nose feels like someone has poured rubber cement into my sinuses when I was sleeping so when I wake up there is no way in hell I can breath. The throbbing... My head is throbbing. My entire skull hurts and my shoulders and neck hurt. And I can't taste anything... except for Nyquil. I am pretty sure you could taste Nyquil if you were dead and your tongue was lit on fire and then cut out. Nyquil is the shit.
I know I sound all whiny and if you ask Jiffinner she will tell you how whiny I was Friday, but I can't help it. I have to whine to you, my fellow bloggers, because there is no one here to whine to. There is also no one here to help me so I have to still cook and clean and give baths. My girls are probably miserable. I'll get up and make breakfast and then back to the couch, lunch and then couch, dinner and then couch. I have no energy. They are good kids though and have been pampering me :)
My head is all fuckered up from the medicine, I feel like I am all floaty when I walk, very light headed and my skin spontaneously breaks out in chill bumps. My brain is functioning at about 12% which means I can barely remember my name, nevermind what someone asked me thirty minutes ago. About every forty five minutes, the medicine conquers the evil fever demons and I get all cold and have one of those light sweats and then thirty minutes later, fever again.
I need a massage and a good long sleep, like twelve hours. Then I need another massage, some more Nyquil and another twelve hour sleep. At some point in time during all this, I need the use of my nose back. It's my fucking nose, damn it, and I want it back.
Fuck.
~Kate
Friday, June 17, 2005
Thank you...
...Educated Liberal!I just received this pic in my email from EL...Yum. That's just about how he looked too...Thought you guys would enjoy the visual as much as I do :)*sigh*
~Kate
Lousy Friday
God, I hate to type that because Fridays are for fun and ease. The week has ended (for us Monday – Friday workers) and there is the promise of the up and coming break from life for two days.
My Friday started so good to. I was having the most awesome of dreams. Brad Pitt was there and he was totally digging me. We were hanging out, he kept touching my leg and brushing my hair back from my face. Then we were at his place and he was showing me around and he gave me a computer (?? I don’t know why, it’s a fucking dream). It wasn’t weird, I wasn’t nervous. I mean, I was aware that it was Brad Pitt and I was aware that he was hitting on me… But he wasn’t doing it in this sleazy ‘I wanna fuck you way’ but rather like he actually was digging me… *sigh* Anyway, then he and I go for coffee and I am suddenly making these horrid noises with my nose. I keep apologizing and he keeps asking if I am all right. He is putting his hand on mine, genuinely concerned. And what am I doing?? Snorting or something, these awful noises… then I wake up and those awful noises were either me trying to breath or snoring because my sinuses were clogged beyond belief.
I woke up with the pain of a thousand tiny people shoved into my head simultaneously banging with tiny hammers and picks trying to get out. O.M.F.G. I was in hell. My head felt heavy and my sinuses were so clogged and full and evil. I laid in bed for like twenty more minutes and then got up and went to get the girls ready. Amanda so totally fucking rocks. She asked what was wrong and I told her that my head hurt. She was like “Gosh, Mommy, you have had a headache for like three days.” Yeah, I know. Anyway, she told Emilee after I left the room “don’t bother Mommy, her head really hurts.” I got their clothes out and went to get in the shower and when I got out, Amanda had gotten Triniti dressed and put her shoes on. I love her, she is so getting ice cream tonight.I stopped at Wal-Mart on my way here and got some Aleve Sinus and Headache. It seems to be dulling the ever present pain.
So, I stepped on the scale to see if my three day diet worked and guess what! Eight pounds lighter. Hey now! Of course, I was all anticipating being able to eat whatever I wanted today and my nose is so fucked up I can’t eat anything. That’s always the best diet anyway. Either the Sick Diet or the Flu Diet. Either one guarantees some weight loss.
I saw The Cake Lady yesterday and she said something about me and the girls coming by this weekend for some pool and sun time. If I start feeling better, that will be awesome. I feel bad that I keep the girls locked up at home all day when the weather is awesome.
If you read my most recent posts regarding Mr. I and were one of the ones who commented or emailed me about how proud you were of me, lol, then you will now be doubly proud. Mr. I called me night before last and after we had talked for a little while basically said he wanted to come over. Instead of having him over to scratch that itch that is becoming more and more bothersome, I declined. I told him no. I told him that if we had any shot at being friends that the sex had to stop. He didn’t sound thrilled with my decision but wasn’t rude about it, just said ok. Then he called me yesterday and said ‘thank you’. That he was glad one of us had the will power to say ‘no’. Now I just need to find someone I don’t feel obligated to say ‘no’ to so I can get laid. Damn.
My ring arrived from my dad yesterday and is so much prettier than the pic of it was. Also included were a pair of opal earrings and another pair that were abalone. Have to wear them next week though, since today is Blue Jean day.
Hope ya’ll have a nice weekend :)
~Kate
Yet another quiz...
 I tashte like Alcohol.
Heh. Heh. I taste like beer. I like beer. Buy me a beer. I'm not drunk, I can drink plenty without... What was I saying? Beer. What Flavour Are You?
|
Borrowed from Sandra. You guys make sure and post your results under comments! I want to know what everyone tastes like... for future reference :P
~Kate
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Kids say...
"I wish that everything in the world was made of ice cream, except the things we like."
A direct quote from my daughter, Emilee.
I was telling the girls about the possibility of my meeting Matthew McConaughey on the way home. The VERY 'G' version, of course. Nothing about me wanting to do interesting and nasty things to his body.
Anyway, Amanda says "Is he married?"
I said "No.... Why?"
Emilee says "Maybe you could invite him to dinner?"
I raised an eye brow...
Amanda says "Yeah, you could invite him to dinner."
I said "Now, why would I do that?"
Emilee says "Well, if you want to, maybe you could date him."
If only she knew the extent at which I would like to 'date' him, lol.
Amanda says "Yeah! And then if you date him for a couple of years and see if he is good enough then maybe you could marry him."
Me "Marry him, huh?"
Emilee says "Yeah, you could marry him and then he would be our dad."
I'm tore between thinking that they are adorable in wanting to hook me up with a husband (and tag teaming me, no less) and that they want a dad. Plus, he has to be "good enough", lol... How sweet they are. I am also considering how much of my overactive imagination they have inherited...
I say "well, that's sweet ya'll. I have had a crush on him for a long time."
Amanda says "yeah, that would be cool because maybe he is best friends with Jesse McCartney and then Jesse McCartney could come over and have dinner too... and then maybe he could move in with us too."
Yeah, they've got it.
Emilee says "That would be sooooo cool. He could come over and we could play his songs on the cd player..."
Amanda says "Or he could come over and sing his songs for us!"
Emilee "Oh yeah, that would be much cooler!"
These are my daughters, dear readers. Like mother, like daughters... Only they could spring so quickly and willingly into my fantasy land with out provocation. God, I love them.
~Kate
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
The last tidbit (and by FAR the most important)
It has been confirmed. "What?" You ask... Well, read this before and you will see what I am talking about.So, I am out on the porch with Boss and NewSalesGuy when Boss very smoothly mentions that he heard that NewSalesGuy went to college with Matthew McConaughey to which NewSalesGuy responds that it is true and that they are indeed friends! OMFGBreathe, Kate, Breathe...I am all playing it cool, telling him that I have had mad lust for that man for many years. All very cool. So what college did you go to? Small talk so that I didn't scream. He said he was there the night Matthew was arrested but left before it happened. Says he has been out partying with him many times.Breathe, Kate, Breathe...Then he says that Matthew will probably be around here when football season starts. I told him that if he didn't bring him by to see me when he was that I would never give him another lead as long as he worked here. He laughed and said and I quote "oh yeah, definitely".Breathe...Definitely. He said that he will definitely bring him over to meet me. Meet me. Matthew McConaughey and I will meet. OMFG.I may faint. OMG.How fucking absolutely awesome is that???I then went back inside and did the craziest and quietest happy dance that I have ever done in Jiffinner's office.~Kate
Another Tidbit...
SisterI was on the phone last night and I said that I missed my sister. And I do. I miss her being there when I get home so I can talk to her about my day or not, I miss her being there to watch TV with (she lets me rewind the funny parts w/out complaining), I miss her being there to chat with while I am making dinner, I miss her being there to listen to the new music I downloaded. I just flat out miss her. This I unloaded on the phone and when I hung up, my cell rang and it was her.She and I are talking about her cell (which apparently -according to the Sprint people- works on O'ahu) and she is all tickled pink that she can use her phone and then she tells me something that just made my day or night or week... She said she misses me. She says she misses being able to talk to me! She quickly followed up (so as not to offend anyone that was in earshot) with how Noah's roommates are great and how Noah is great, but she misses being able to talk to me! She told me she was going to call me today and we were going to talk for at least an hour :)Hang on, I need a tissue.Oh, and she was all jazzed because the lead singer of The Burden Brothers (previously the lead singer for The Toadies) called her!! Lola, I know you know who I am talking about. He. Called. Her. She was so totally freaking out! lolWe saw them, with Seven Mary Three at a bar in San Antonio... gosh, like last year. I love Seven Mary Three.Anyway, I think I have one more tidbit before I call it a day :)~Kate
Random Tidbit Day! (more to come)
Diet
I could so never be on Fear Factor. You know how they eat all that disgusting nasty gross stuff and you think, I could so eat that tube of pig eyes if I were going to win X amount of dollars! Then you call the girl who is throwing it all up a 'puss' and change the channel? Yeah, well I would so be that girl. I could not eat tubes of pig's eyes or live bugs or road kill.
How do I know this?
Well, despite Eeks warning to me about that diet I mentioned to ya'll, I decided to give it a shot. So, yesterday, loaded up with groceries to take to work, I began. My breakfast was toast with peanut butter (yum) and half a grapefruit (yuck). I'd forgotten just how much I loathe grapefruit. It is vile and messy. I am positive there is no not messy way to consume it.
I was ok though, pulled it off without getting it on my shirt or wincing too much.
Then it was time for lunch. One slice of bread and one cup of tuna fish. OMFG, do you know how much a cup of tuna fish is??? Just a little less than two cans! Have you ever eaten two fucking cans of tuna fish? It's a lot. A whole lot. And it kind of tastes funny with out the things you would usually add to it, you know? Like mayo or relish or whatever. And there is entirely too much to put onto your bread and make a sandwich so you are just forking tuna fish into your mouth. Lots of it. And I swear it tastes like a can. Bleh.
Dinner (if you can call it that) was not that bad. However, I was so totally wanting one of the tacos I had made for the girls! But there were leftovers and I will have one day after tomorrow when I am done with this.
More Random Tidbits through out the day! I have a list ;)
~Kate
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
What does it mean?
I think... I am actually pretty sure... I believe I have solidified my stance as a grown up.
I have bought a table cloth.
Yeah, no big deal right?
Except, this time I didn't buy it to cover up a fucked up looking table. Oh no, this time, I bought it because I wanted to protect my table, keep it from getting fucked up.
It gets worse.
I didn't only buy a table cloth. I also bought... furniture polish. Yeah, that stuff that smells like lemons that you spray on wooden stuff? Yeah, that.
Now, you see, dear reader, I had promised myself when I was ten that I would never, ever, ever, ever buy furniture polish. It was due to a vendetta I had with my grandmother who made me polish all the furniture in the house as my slave duties 'chore' . I hated it. I hated picking all the fucking nick-nacks up off the furniture and then rubbing it down with lemon scented oil. I hated it even more the second time I had to do it because she lifted something up and saw that I hadn't actually moved anything.
Up until now, I have managed to not own any furniture that I couldn't wipe down with a damp rag. Until my table. My dining room table to be exact. The dining room table that Veronique's parents gave me and that I L-O-V-E. I have been in love with this table since the first time Veronique took me to her house. I told her as much and she gave me that weird look that you give people when you don't quite comprehend yet the love you can have for a piece of furniture. When her mother asked me if I wanted it, I almost fainted. I may have fainted. But, now it is here. Now it is sitting in my kitchen area in it's gorgeous splendor. And until today, no one was allowed to eat on it because I hadn't yet bought a table cloth that would protect it's wooden beauty.
But now I have. I bought two actually. One of those flannel bottomed, vinyl topped table cloths that the girls could actually spill on and then a pretty, dark blue table cloth for dress up :)
And furniture polish to run into it's skin and make it pretty.
Yup, I think it is official. You know you are a grown up when you have intimate feelings for a piece of furniture.
~Kate
Monday, June 13, 2005
History Lesson #3 (first)
Now it is time for History Lesson #3 which could be referred to as The Time In Between. When AZ left that day, I didn't hear from him for two weeks. I had a combination of feelings about this. I was happy he was gone, I had wished it so many times but at the same time I was scared shitless about my future. I was also sad, which I think is inevitable. You are going to miss the person that you love regardless of how much your relationship had disintegrated. I have to admit that while I dreamed he would leave, I never really thought it would happen. But then, there I was, alone. Amanda took it very hard. She glorified his existence in her mind and still does, to this day. She blocked out everything bad that had happened and just remembered her 'daddy'. Maybe that was the best thing she could have done. She was three when he left and she became withdrawn. She was sad for many months and I couldn't reach her. She blamed me, said I had made him leave. I did the only things I could do, I loved her and I waited for her to get over it. She did a few months later.
I also got my ass in gear. I was already working one job. It was only part time, two days a week (Sunday and Monday). So, I got out there and filled out applications. I got another job Tuesday through Thursday at a law office, it was mostly computer stuff. The lawyer and his assistant were extremely computer illiterate and needed me to do things like set up and manage their email accounts, answer phones, set appointments, etc. The legal aspects of it were very difficult. I had never learned anything about the legal system and here I was typing up Divorce Decrees and... I don't even remember what else. The lawyer was narcoleptic. I would be reading him whatever he had asked me to type and I would look up and he would be asleep.
Anyway, while working there, I got to explore a lot of the Internet. It was something I hadn't really been exposed to yet and I was sucking it up as hungrily as I could. I met many people through various sites and chats but a few stand out and are worth mentioning here.
There was my beloved Brit, James. He was quite literally the first online friend I made. I met him in a chat room in Lycos. The first time I had ever been into a chat room. I was just sitting in front of the monitor watching everyone chat. I was probably there for ten minutes and then this private message pops up and it is James saying it was his first time as well. I wish, more than anything, that I could remember what was said but it was... wow, over five years ago. I don't know what we said, but I know we clicked. Immediately. I know I checked online many times to see if he was there. Finally he was and we were able to exchange e-mail addresses. We have been writing each other ever since and as soon as there is some kind of reasonable international long distance plan, I will be able to call him regularly as well. You can all thank him since, without his friendship, I probably would have never delved quite this deep into the Internet Ocean.
Anyway, while I was waiting to chat with my Brit on MSN, I got pretty cozy in a chat room in Lycos called Divorced Moms and Dads. I met a great many people on there that I still shoot the shit with occasionally. One of which was Triniti's father, NY. But I am getting ahead of myself.
second...Labels: History Lesson
History Lesson #3 (second)
I lost a tremendous amount of weight during this time. This wasn't really anything bad since I was overweight at the time. Actually, I weighed more then than I ever have in my life. I also had horrible insomnia. I could only sleep a few hours a night. I would be up until three or four in the morning and I would sleep until six and then get up and get ready for work. I lost eighty pounds in two months. That's like one Kate Moss. My insomnia was probably due to the fact that I was in hell. I was living once again with my mother. She had agreed to watch the girls for me so I could work. This agreement of ours fizzled a mere two and a half months later. Seemed I was cutting into her drinking time. Never mind that I had taken over all of our bills and responsibilities. Not only was I paying for everything, but I was also making sure that everything got paid. I was miserable. I was stuck in this rut and I didn't think I was ever going to get out. My mom was dependent on my being there and since I was paying all of the bills, I couldn't save anything to get out anyway. Any doctor on the planet would have diagnosed me with depression, severe depression. The only thing that kept me sane were my girls. There was no way in hell I was going to fail them, no way I was going to screw everything up, and no fucking way in hell I was going to turn into my mother. Ahhhh, my mother. She lost it right about then. I got off work one night and went to pick her up from the bar (my brother and sister had the girls). She asked me to go to another bar with her "just for a few minutes". I called the house, brother and sister both said it was fine. So, we get to this bar and there is a very good friend of mine. A man I will refer to as my computer guru. Guru was hardly ever in town and I was so happy to be running into him, so happy that I would have someone to talk to while my mother floated around the bar speaking to one friend and then another. Inevitably, I would be there for a few hours so seeing Guru made my night. He and I sit down on a couple of stools and, after the pleasantries, are talking shop. This man is a genius. He may deny it, but there is no denying it and I looked to him for help with my computer world so often back then.
Well, I don't know what it was. I don't know why or how it happened, but somehow my mother ended up sitting with us. Guru probably asked me how the girls were, how I was... And I probably gave him some highlights from my life. Probably bragged about the girls. Well, my mom, the queen of drunken negativity, didn't like this at all. In fact she decided that right then, while I was happy, while I was chatting with a friend, that right then, she would eviscerate me. And she did. She humiliated me. She drudged up every negative thing she could think of, everything that I had ever done wrong in my life, all the little things my kids did that made them less than perfect, everything she didn't like about me and the decisions I had made in my life. She took it all and hammered me with it. In front of Guru, in front of a packed bar. I was mortified. This is her, dear reader, this is my mother. This is the woman who gave me life and to who I will never be good enough. Guru sat quietly at first and then asked her to please stop berating me. After I started crying (no, I hadn't had anything but water all night, I didn't drink back then. I was just emotionally unstable) he offered to take me home. That drive home was one of the worst things I can remember. Sitting next to this man who I thought so highly of and watching him feel pity for me. Oh I hate being pitied. I loathe and despise it. He offered me many things during that short drive. He offered me a place to stay, a car, and a job. He offered me an out and I turned him down.
It's amazing to feel so lost. To feel as though you have no options or that the options you do have aren't real, to feel as though there is no escape and that you just have to stay put.
As I had become so accustomed to doing, I made an excuse for another alcoholic. "She is just drunk, Guru," I told him, "she'll apologize tomorrow." I couldn't leave. I couldn't take all that he was offering because in my mind, you don't get free rides. You don't get a house, car, and job handed to you on a silver platter. You earn it. I couldn't have been that girl who didn't acquire all of those things herself. He made it clear that the offer was there; just call him if I changed my mind.
third...Labels: History Lesson
History Lesson #3 (third)
Inside my house, inside my room, inside my sanctuary, I kissed my daughters heads as they slept peacefully. I went into the bathroom and locked the door and I cried. I sat on the floor of the bathroom and cried for what seemed like forever. You know when you cry for so long that you just run out? Out of tears, out of energy - you are just drained. That was what I did. When I was done, I got up and changed my clothes and went and sat by my window. I couldn't sleep back then. So I just sat there and looked outside and wondered where my life was headed. I wondered how I would survive this chapter and what the next would hold. I sat there and contemplated my future, my daughter's futures. I couldn't leave; I had to make sure that they had futures.
Let me be very clear with you, dear readers, had I not had children I wouldn't be alive today and if I were it would be because I had run far far away from this life. I had tried suicide as a teenager and failed. I wouldn't have failed again. But you don't get that out when you are a mother. You don't get to choose that door and if you do, if you give up, then you are not a person I respect. You do what you have to do, you make things work somehow, but you never abandon your children. You just don't.
I don't know how long I sat there, I don't know how many things ran around my mind. I don't even know if I was awake still when the pounding on my door started. I remember it scared me, like when someone sneaks up on you in the dark and you feel your heart almost stop. I jolted and then went to the door of my room and opened it. There she was, the same as when I had left her. Still angry, still mean and still drunk. I told her I was sleeping and I would speak with her in the morning and closed the door and relocked it. She then started pounding on it again. I opened it and told her to stop, she would wake the girls. She gave me that look, that I-don't give-a-flying-fuck look and I knew I had to get out of that room or she would wake the girls. So I walked into the living room and closed the door to my room. Then it started, the same way it always started. She screamed at me and belittled me and told me basically how much I sucked, how horrid my children were. That was my hot button back then, maybe it still is, and it made me cry. Which I think is what she wanted. When you tell me that my kids are anything that they are not, I get angry. The older I get, the better hold I have on my temper, but back then... well, again, I wasn't very stable. I just sat there on the couch and took it all and waited for her to finish. For the inevitable finale.
When I tuned back in, she was bitching about the dishes. The dishes weren't done. This, in her eyes, meant the kitchen was a mess. So at 3:30 am, I went to do the dishes hoping she would pass out and I could go to bed. Because, I was tired. Tired physically, emotionally, of my life, every kind of tired you can imagine. But it didn't stop, she got louder. Soon Noah and Ruthie were awake and involved and I was just glazed over, top to bottom. Imagine me thinking this isn't my life, this isn't my life, this isn't my life over and over again while washing the plates from a dinner I wasn't even home for. But she started on Ruthie. And Ruthie had school the next day and it was late and I was all tapped out on patience.
I lashed out, I yelled enough or something equally ineffective and then she turned on me. I am nineteen and she grabs my hair, I am an adult and she grabs my hair, I have two children sleeping in the other room and she grabs my hair. There were some other physical actions there. She hit me a few times and slammed me into the wall where I just slid down to the floor, but I couldn't get over the fact that she had grabbed my hair. My hair. It was long then, nearly to my butt. It was long for only a few moments longer because when she got off of me, when I got up and walked out, I went into the other room and grabbed the scissors and cut it all off, to my ears. I can hear that sound that it made. The scissors trying to cut through all of my hair as I opened and closed them, opened and closed them on my hair. I can hear it blurred together with the screaming and crying, my sister yelling stop, please stop at my mother and my brother yelling threats. Over all the noise and I could hear so clearly the sound the scissors made sawing through my hair.
When it separated from my head, I threw it at her. I was so lost. I was just numb standing there. It flurried off into different piles, some here, some stuck to my hand, some stuck to her shirt, some stuck to the bed. My hair was everywhere. Then that was it. She couldn't pull it anymore.
The finale.
I could go to bed. She was done, I was done. And I left my hair laying on the floor and walked away, my back to her apologies. My mind thinking they always apologize.
fourth...Labels: History Lesson
History lesson #3 (fourth)
I didn't date anyone. I buried myself into my virtual friendships. They were my escape, my out. I could talk to them and I was me again. No baggage, no pain. I could tell them about the me that I had inside and they liked me. If only I could let that inner me out to the real world. But no, no one in my real life wanted to see the real me. They liked the passive me, the me with no spine, the me that did dishes at nearly four in the morning because she was told to. The me that tolerated abuse and alcohol, the me you could kick, the me who didn't feel comfortable enough in her own skin to say what she thought. Who would want to date her anyway?
The musician, that's who.
I met the musician when I was almost twenty. God fucking damn he was gorgeous. I don't remember where my self esteem was at that time but I was friendly and it is easier to be friendly with someone you don't think you have a chance in hell of dating. I met him in a bar with my mom one night when I was playing designated driver. He was talking to me and I needed to be talked to. He was gorgeous and I needed the ego boost. He took me home that night and he kissed me. God damn he kissed me. That kiss that your read about where shit explodes in your head and you forget your name. That kiss, those kisses that make you want to kiss. It was doubly awesome because he was kissing me. And who the fuck was I?
The musician could sing. OMG he could sing and he wrote his own music. It was so good. He was good. He was good at writing, singing, talking, touching, kissing... the boy was good. I say boy, the man was ten years my senior. He was a temporary island for me, I used him. I used him for an escape from my reality. I would drive to his house unannounced and I would use his mind and his body and then I would drive home. He gave me that twinge of happiness and I was so grateful to have something to help me make it through the days.
I should clarify here that never, in all of my crap have I ever not gotten just enough motivation from my girls to make it through life. They are IT for me, they are my eternal love and happiness. But sometimes you need something else to help make your road a little less bumpy and he did that for me. He helped steer me back onto the road of want. He helped pull me from the ditch and brush me off and I am so grateful to him for that.
Our fling was shortlived, a few months maybe before he moved to Chicago. We would have never been more than we were and neither of us said anything more than thank you and good bye.
Back on track, near sanity and rationalism. That wall that was blocking the view of my future was finally knocked down. My goals, my life, my girls. I was ready to begin again. I was ready for my life to start new. I was ready but I wasn't sure how. Enter the man from New York.
~Kate
Labels: History Lesson
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Ooooooh! A present!
I love presents :) Especially when they are something I have been wanting for a VERY long time. I have wanted a Mother's ring for SO long! I have looked at many different styles, but never saw one I just had to have. But then, I ran across a ring design a few months back that I liked and with some tweaking it could be the perfect Mother's ring for me.
Well, lucky me, my father is a Silversmith. He has been making jewelry since before I was born. So I emailed him with the idea and he immediately ordered the emeralds needed. You see, I wanted three emeralds. One for me, one for Emilee, and one for Triniti. Then, a topaz for Amanda. All of our birth stones.
Well, he said he finished it and just emailed me the pictures!
Check out my new ring :)
He wanted to put the topaz in the middle so that it would look more balanced so to speak, but I wanted the emerald in the middle to signify me.I love it. I can't wait until it gets here and I can wear it :)You can buy my dad's stuff on ebay under the name knosesilver or on his website silverknose.com. Make sure and tell him that his daughter sent you :)~Kate
Saturday, June 11, 2005
The Doodlebops
So, I had high hopes for this weekend. It is my first weekend alone in a long ass time and I wanted so badly to CLEAN MY FUCKING HOUSE. But, I bit off more than I could chew. I decided, since the acquiring off all this new furniture, that I would move some stuff around. Well, in the process of that, one of my entertainment centers (the peice of SHIT one that I hate and wish I could sue Wal-Mart about) broke. So, I managed to keep the top part which works fine in my room, but Trin stepped on one of the nails before I got it out of the house and she was miserable and I felt like the worst mommy in the world. So, my entire afternoon went to shit because I was easing my guilt trying to make her feel better. She is so sweet. Her little foot hurt so bad (the nail went clear through her foot) and she is half crying and half singing along with the TV. I still feel awful. So, I got her all propped up on her bed watching her new favorite show and then I got online to download some kid songs for her, primarily from The Doodlebops.
She fucking loves The Doodlebops. LOVES THEM! Have you guys seen this show? What a brilliant concept. These people are going to be so many different kinds of rich. Anyway, you can't find shit from them because they are still so new. So instead, I am downloading Dora songs and some other playhouse Disney stuff. I can probably fit like 40 kid's songs on a cd as they are like one minute long.
Anyway, she fell asleep about ten minutes ago and I have so much work to do still. I am going to go throw in a load of laundry and start working on my room. Cross your fingers for me that I can finish everything this weekend.
And check in on Monday for my third history lesson :)
~Kate
My Theme Song
(for now anyway)Rob Thomas Problem Girl Don't let 'em get where they're going to
You know they're only what they think of you
You heard of this emotional trickery
And you felt like you were learning the ropes
But where you're going now you don't know
And when the kids on the street say
What's your problem girl
And the weight of their smile gets
Too much for you to bear
When they all make you feel
Like you're a problem girl
Remember
You're no problem at all
You're no problem at allPride like promises can let you down
You thought that you'd be feeling
Better by now
You worry all the things they could do to you and
You worry about the things they could say
Maybe you're seeing things the wrong wayAnd when the kids on the street sayWhat's your problem girlAnd the weight of their smile getsToo much for you to bearWhen they all make you feelLike you're a problem girlRememberYou're no problem at allYou're no problem at all
Try
If you stand or you fall
You're no problem at allAnd I shouldn't have to continuously tell you guys to get this album. ...Something To Be is awesome. Afraid you are going to spend money on an album with only one good song? Not the case here folks. Get it. Now. Why are you still here?~Kate
Friday, June 10, 2005
oh, yeah, and....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
BRIT!
Today is one of my oldest friends 25th birthday. The other day when he was reading my blog, he emailed me and asked me where the parts about him were, lol. Well, here is one, my dear friend. Happy twenty fifth birthday! And don't worry, you don't look anywhere near thirty five even if I do pick on you about your hair sometimes. I love you and I am so lucky to have our friendship!
Love
~Kate
My daughter, Emilee (one)
I read a post on The Educated Liberal in reference to his daughter, Sophia. I have to admit that I have wanted to write about Emilee for some time now, but his post really prompted me to finally do so.
What can I say about my daughter? It’s so hard to incorporate the feelings she stirs in me into words. The word ‘unique’ truly describes her to a T.
Now, I want to clarify that I do not have a favorite child. I love all of my children with everything I have and if you are a parent, then you know that you cannot love one more than another. However, they are all different so you like/dislike different things about them all.
Emilee is 7, her birthday was last month. She has always been advanced in her ability to learn. She was so quiet the first few years, not speaking until she was two. At that time, I thought it was because she may be slow or have a learning issue (or just be hard of hearing which is so often the case in children who speak late). However, upon watching her grow in the coming years, I was proven so incredibly wrong. She excelled at everything she did and still does.
In Texas, we have a pre-kindergarten grade. Aptly named Pre-K. Children who are four go to Pre-K the year before Kindergarten. In some towns this is a half-day grade, but where we live, it is a full day. It isn’t a mandatory year of school, rather optional. Emilee and Amanda started school the same year, Emilee in Pre-K and Amanda in Kindergarten. Emilee always did very well. She loves to learn and she learns quickly. I remember the exact day that I realized she was exceptionally bright. It was the day she came home with flashcards. She had been the winner at lunch for her grade to get a little prize that they were handing out. The prize was a set of addition and subtraction flash cards. She brought them home and asked me what they were. I explained it to her and she was enthralled. She loved those cards. She played with them for hours. I was stunned to say the least and immediately went out and bought her some math books, which she also loved.
A few months later, after mastering addition and subtraction, she wanted to learn to read. Now, she was stubborn, she had to learn. I could see Amanda kind of eyeing her warily as reading was really the only thing she had left that Emilee couldn’t do. Less than a month later, Emilee was reading. In fact, she was helping Amanda with all facets of her homework from then on. When Emilee entered Kindergarten the following year, she was already doing multiplication. I wanted to bump her up a grade so badly. I hate that her mind is a sponge and in the grade she is in, she isn’t getting anything to absorb. Sadly, though, she is in the right grade for her maturity level and our school system is so small that they don’t really have programs for her. Instead, I tried to get her involved in other things. Sports. She did soccer and basketball and now gymnastics. You see, my darling daughter is prone to getting herself into trouble if she is bored. We also do French at home and I have computer games starting from grade one through four. She plays all of them.
next...
My daughter, Emilee (two)
So, you can see, her mind is advanced. It’s actually interesting to watch her because you can see her think. You can ask her something and her eyes just kind of glaze over so slightly as she retreats into her mind to figure out what you’ve asked her. Some people who have met her have thought that she doesn’t listen, but really when you talk to her, she doesn’t hear you. She is buried in thought and you have to bring her back to get her attention. She loves to read and play cards. And you know those string tricks you can do? OMG, she can do those so fucking fast that it freaks me out.
Anyway, that would be enough. Having her be very smart would be an accomplishment in itself. However, it doesn’t even begin to end there.
She is also beautiful. Now, I know that every parent thinks that their child is the most stunning creature to walk the Earth, but she really is gorgeous. Where as Amanda looks just like me, Emilee is the spitting image of her father. And for all of his faults, AZ was a very good looking guy. She is blonde, blue eyed, tall, tanned, and she has one of those bodies already where she can eat and eat and eat and she is barely at the average weight for her age.
But more than that, more than being smart and pretty, she has such a good heart. Growing up, she and Amanda rarely fought because she would so much rather surrender to make the other person happy. She wants everyone to be happy; she is very selfless. She will offer to help, give you her toys, hug you when you are sad, compliment you for no reason. I would love to take the credit for this, say that it is some part of my excellent parenting skills, but I cannot because she is this way because she chooses to be and not because I have ingrained into her these traits. She is a good person, inside.
And the last thing that I will mention… When I met Veronique, I knew she had something. Something inexplicable. Something inside of her that attracted other people and that, when mixed with her also being a good person, was so captivating. Emilee has this, she has that light, that vibe, that something that makes you want to be around her. That goodness… there is no word for what it is. No way to describe it, only once you’ve met someone like this you just know. She has all kinds of friends. She has fifth graders come and hug her when we are at the grocery store. She knows more adults than I do. She will wave at people when we drive by them. She is happy and good inside... It's so pure and so genuine that you have to love her. You can't help it.I'm very happy that she is my daughter and exceedingly proud of her every day. I just wanted to share that with ya'll.~Kate
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Oh no he didn't!
Oh no, I am blonde.
No, not because I did something stupid... because then, really, I'd have been blonde a long, long time ago :P
No, I am blonde in other people's eyes. Ok, so yesterday, on my way home, I stop for gas. (Cute, cute, little boy behind the glass at the gas station in case you were wondering.) Anyway, I told him I needed three packs of Marlboro Light 100's in a box (yeah, Kate smokes. Shut up.) and fifteen bucks on pump three. Then I hand cute-gas-boy my credit card and wait to sign my receipt. Well, he tells me I can't prepay for gas with a credit card.
Um, ok.
So, I guess he took into account the blonde hair because he then says to me in his I'm-talking-to-a-girl voice "you know, you can pay with your credit card at the pump. Do you know how to do that? There is a little slot on the pump."
Oh, you don't say? That's what that 'little slot' is for. Well, fuck me. I thought that was the portal to another world. But you see, Smart Man, I was too scared to go to another planet and leave my car parked there where anyone could take it. And every time I parked it somewhere else and came back, all the portals were taken already.
Are you fucking kidding me??? Cute-gas-boy then ceased to be in any way adorable and jumped several rungs down the ladder to annoying-NOT-good-looking-doubting-my-intelligence-gas-boy.~Kate
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
adieu to you to (un)
The day I turned twenty-five, I realized like a slap in the face that Mr. I was wrong for me. Where this knowledge had been hiding for the last eleven months is beyond me but it was so refreshing to finally not feel as though I had to have him any more. I must admit that I am spoiled in that respect. Every man I have ever been with has wanted me. Even the guys that I sought out for a purely physical relationship, who were prone to having only flings, later would admit that they were in love with me or had feelings for me or that they wanted us to move in together. Ninety nine percent of the time, that is my run away! button. It's a gamble with me. I can find myself totally attracted to someone, consumed with lust and interest. I get sucked into that infatuation hard and fast and then suddenly, it disappears from my radar and I am left with someone whom I can't even imagine ever having felt any of those things for. With some of them it is staggering to me afterwards that I ever even wanted to be around them, with others (like Mr. I) I just realize that I made a mistake and I was probably only interested in their friendship but with them being male and my being alone, I fell into that trap of having sex with them. With the exception of occasionally feeling lonely and sometimes wanting for that one person - that match that almost seems mythical, I usually enjoy being alone. I like to flirt and I like the rush that you sometimes get from good flirting. That rush disappears when you are in a relationship because you don't have that sexual tension any more... well maybe you still have the tension but the possibility of having sex with that person is really gone. And it isn't as good because you feel guilty for having some good flirting when you are in a relationship so it kind of cheapens it.
It really is all about the chase most of the time. I can't see beyond enjoying the chase since I haven't even really gotten that 'marriage' feeling. I've never loved someone enough to make that leap. And I am ok with that.
I often tell my daughters (when they are upset about their father not having been around for the last five years) that this is just the hand that they were dealt in life. That some kids don't have fathers and some kids do. All families are different and that I think ours is pretty darn good. They tend to agree. I sometimes need to give myself that same advice when it comes to my being single. Not everyone marries and not everyone has a constant boyfriend. I like being single and I like meeting these different men and learning more about myself and what I do and don't want through our relationships. I like that I can devote my life to my kids without ever having to question someone else's happiness other than ours. I sometimes wish I had that person there in the middle of the night and that when I woke up, their arms would be around me and I would feel safe and loved. But I think what I have is pretty good.
Wow, that was some serious digressing :)
continued...
Labels: History Lesson, Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
adieu to you (deux)
Anyway, Mr. I... So, he and I experienced something new this weekend - jealousy (his, not mine... sort of ironic don't ya think?). This caught me completely off guard because he has barely ever made a peep about my seeing other people. Actually, he has never really showed any emotion. OMG, he has emotion... Yeah, ok, that was bitchy. I’ll refrain.
(The fact is that I don't think I have ever been what he saw in a girlfriend. I am used, so to speak. I have kids, I have had men, I don't have religion. I am basically a heathen and in his dreamy world, he wants the girl who wears white when she walks down the aisle for all the right reasons and let's face it people, I am not that girl.)
But, he really can't say anything since he technically has a girlfriend. It was inevitable that his and my relationship (to use the word 'relationship' loosely) would run it's course and in the end would have one of three outcomes. The first outcome could have been us actually trying to date each other for real. The second outcome could have been us reverting to friendship only. The third outcome could have been this whole thing exploding and us not being friends or anything.
Many months ago, as you all could tell, I was hoping for the former of the three possibilities. I was crossing my fingers at night and waiting for him to tell me that the two of them had split up. After a few months, that hope faded and I was left trying to decide whether I wanted to continue having (literally) meaningless sex with him or let him go completely. I tried the letting go, but couldn't seem to and ended up sleeping with him again. I had settled very nicely into a rut of routine. How easy we form habits and how difficult they are to break.
After awhile, that nightly routine of crossing my fingers was to rid myself of all feelings towards him. I was silently begging the love gods to release me from whatever hold he seemingly had on me. I needed that click that would make me wake up from the lust-induced trance (for surely that is what it was) I was in and allow me to go back to normal. I needed it because he was making me so unhappy. Well, maybe it isn't fair to say that it was him but rather that the situation I was allowing myself to be in.
He seemed so right for me and not because of age or rank or religion or whatever, but because we were such good friends, because we could talk and because I felt so comfortable being me around him. Had I nit picked everything to hell and back, I probably could have found some things in there that would have caused issues, but I didn’t need to because he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with me. He told me so, more than once. He made it incredulously clear that our situation was sex and friends and that was it. It don’t get much more blunt than that.
But then, Friday night, I see a totally different side of this same man. The man who laid in my bed less than two months ago and told me, when asked, that all we had was sex and friendship, that we would never be anything else. So, imagine my surprise Friday night when I check my cell phone after an hour of being out of earshot to see five missed calls, a page, and a text message blaringly announcing his jealousy in these nine words “Is he any good? I hope he’s worth it.” Quick, Kate, sit down. I closed my phone and then opened it again, sure that my eyes had deceived me, certain that when reopened the message would be gone. I open my phone to see those same nine words. In a haze of shock and confusion, I call him.
One ring… Two rings… Three rings… I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he does and where I was expecting him to laugh and assure me that his message had merely been in jest, he instead is bitter. “Well that was fast or did you tell him you would be right back?” Who is this guy? This can’t be the same guy.
continued...
Labels: History Lesson, Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
adieu to you (trois)
This same call is riddled with accusations, with jealousy, with spite and doubt; all of which are unwarranted given the situation. He was so sure that I had some guy in my bed. He made it clear that he didn’t want me seeing anyone else. I grunt at this and remind him of his girlfriend, of the fact that almost the entire time that we have been doing whatever the hell it is that we are doing that he has been with someone else. That he dates her, that he meets her family, that he (undoubtedly) is intimate with her in some ways, but more importantly that he is with her, not me. And in his being in said situation, I am not obligated to share with him my personal life in any way. The only agreement we ever had was that we would tell each other if we decided to start having sex with someone else. Nothing else need be shared.
I can honestly say that I didn’t know that it even remotely bothered him. I have told him before about guys I have went out with and he always listened as though he were my friend and honestly wanted to be included in all aspects of my life. It wasn’t until mid December that he told me it bothered him and I stopped mentioning it then. In fact, I went to great lengths to ensure he didn’t hear about it after that. I would tell him early on that day that I would be busy with the girls or a friend and would call him when I was home later so he wouldn’t accidentally call mid-date.
This call goes on for the better part of an hour. I feel as though I have entered the twilight zone. Am I seriously arguing with him? Is this really happening? But the further the call proceeds the clearer it is. He is flip flopping from apologizing for his behavior to again being defensive and paranoid. I suggest that we stop sleeping together (again, shut up) and just revert to friendship. He agrees in one breath that this is a good idea, in the next breath asks to come over.
Then he says it. He says that one thing that solidifies my position as officially being (gag) the other woman. He tells me (almost verbatim here guys) that I am his escape from everything. That he needs to see me to escape from his life. Sit back down, Kate. No. No, you did not just say that to me. You did not just tell me that I am just the other girl. No. No. No. Ahhhh, but yes, yes he did. Yes I am. Where’s that scarlet letter?
Fuck.
Almost immediately he tries to cushion the blow by commending me on my sexual expertise as it were and uses the word ‘addiction’ in regards to being around me but alas it is too late. I am already crumpled. The words have been released into the Universe and I am that woman, that woman I hate. That woman who slept with my exes and who I swore I would never be. How did this not register before? I know how, I know how I ignored it, rationalized it. But now, he said it.
And what could possibly top this? What could possibly take us all the way to outcome number three? Please, let me tell you… Well, I go immediately into retreat mode. I turn my back and run as fast as I can from my alleged friends with benefits chair and try and sit back on my friends only couch. But I can’t, he isn’t letting me. He actually says to me (EXACT words) “with me, it’s all or nothing”. I beg your pardon? I must have misunderstood you because your ideas of the words all and nothing must surely be different from those of Mr. Webster. You see, my dear, I have been stuck in between all and nothing for eleven (ELEVEN!!) months. I have had some. Some of your time, some of your friendship, some of your intimacy, some, some, some. There wasn’t ever any all. And now you are going to say that what we had before was your definition of all?? I don’t think so. But more importantly are you willing to chunk what was a good friendship simply because the sex is now gone? Gee, I must have meant so much to you. Lucky me.
Continued...
Labels: History Lesson, Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
adieu to you (quatre)
I refused to believe it. I cannot still be that naïve. I cannot be that girl. That isn’t me. I don’t have on rose colored glasses or blinders or whatever. I am not still that controlled by emotion. No. No. Someone please tell me I am not. I have to have at least one god damned decent instinct in my body. Surely I can read people, even just a little. What were all the relationships for if I have learned nothing?
When I hung up the phone that night, after the tempestuous conversation, after the revert to friendship, after the reassurance that we would still be friends, I was certain that tomorrow we would talk and we would be normal. Why was I so sure? Because, I honestly, in my heart of hearts believed that this man cared about me, if on no other level then as friends. I honestly believed that. I should still believe it, but I must admit that I have doubt now. Why? Because out of the two conversations I had with him on Saturday, neither were reassuring, in fact both were strained. Sunday, I got the blow off. The I’m busy now and I will be busy later but I will try and call you… Then nothing. Nothing since.
So there it is. I am a still a very stupid girl. I still believe the best in people even when they were using me. I still think that if I am not having sex with someone that we will be friends. How is it possible that in all these years and in all those guys I am still this uncultured in the realm of relationships?
I believed the best of Mr. I. I truly, deep down thought that he and I carried with us a special bond in our friendship that could survive the razing of our intimacy. Seemingly I was wrong.
So what happens now? Nothing I guess. Some of you with whom I have already discussed this have been all about me being angry, but I am not. I am disappointed. I am disappointed in Mr. I for not being the friend I thought he was but mostly I am disappointed in myself for the lack of ability I have in regards to judging people. I guess it is another notch in my headboard of lessons. Another wall the next guy will have to knock down to get anywhere near my heart. Another wasted year of my life on a pipe dream. I just have this bitter taste in my mouth because I don’t understand how I could be so wrong about so many people in my life.
~KateLabels: History Lesson, Mr. I, My pathetic excuse for a love life
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Like, ohmigod...
So, like, did I mention, I am, like, so totally blonde now?
-insert bubble gum popping here-Seriously, these are some pics Amanda took of me last night. I had to say 'cheese' like a hundred times. I don't think they think the camera works unless you say 'cheese'. Right before she went to sleep (meaning it was almost ten and I am in PJs and looking my absolute crappiest :P) she yawned and said "Mommy, those were nice pictures. You can put them on your blog tomorrow if you want to..." The things we do for our children... ~Kate ps. and no I don't let my girls read my blog :P
Sometimes I wonder…
Sometimes I wonder why they still make iced tea bags you have to boil when there are cold water tea bags now. Like I am so sure there is someone sitting in their kitchen wondering what they will do with that pot of boiling water…
Sometimes I wonder if Bruce remembers me in the mornings. Someone told me once that fish have very short memories and more than twelve hours pass every night before he sees me in the morning. Maybe he doesn't know who I am and I scare him every morning.
Sometimes I wonder how my horoscope can be so off.
Sometimes I wonder if I will meet an awesomely adorable hunk while I am in New Orleans in October…
Sometimes I wonder why I love my old car so much. Sometimes other people wonder why I have named her ‘Mona’… but then, sometimes other people wonder many things about me and very little of them have to do with my obvious sanity.
Sometimes I wonder how it is that some people don’t know that 3 Doors Down released a new album or how next week the Foo Fighters are releasing a new album… Or how Oasis has a new single… Or WORSE, how you don’t already have the new Rob Thomas cd. C’mon!
Sometimes I wonder how my ex can be such an infinitely obnoxious asshole (more to come on that one)…
Sometimes I wonder if Triniti will ever stop pretending like she doesn’t know what the potty is for. She is three!Sometimes I wonder how Matthew McConaughey will present his proposal to me. Will it be on one knee on a yacht or while we are laying in bed after having fantastically awesome sex. Hmmmmm, Mrs. McConaughey…
~KateBut you can call me Mrs. McConaughey...
ps, this post was much longer but was chewed to shit by the blogger beast
Monday, June 06, 2005
Am I the only one who has noticed?
How is it that the vast majority of the hot men in the world are gay? Conspiracy? I am forced to think so...
~Kate
some stuff, just in case you were wondering
- My toenails are hot pink and sparkley.
- I've never had them this color before.
- I would rather have the windows down than the ac on when I am driving.
- I ate a ton of gum and jelly beans last week.
- I like jelly beans even though some people don't.
- I don't like the orange or cherry, grape or black flavored ones though and I throw those away and I throw them away with out a second thought.
- Nothing seems to taste right, even my water tastes funny today.
- If you do a search on google for 'Christian Fish Asshole', my blog comes up first.
- I can listen to the same cd all day if I am feeling it. Just ask Jiffinner how crazy she was that one time I listened to Our Lady Peace for like a week.
- My favorite smells are lavender, lemon, orange, and vanilla.
- There is only one type of truly good music: Matchbox Twenty... Everything else is second.
- I hate it when there are seeds in my fruit. I understand the logistics behind it, but it bothers me nonetheless.
- I bite my nails.
- I eat sprouts on my sandwiches and avacado if it is in season.
- I throw away my dustpans on accident all the time. I just set them in the trash can when they are full and intend to take them out later and forget.
- I don't drink soda unless I eat fast food because I don't like soda much.
- If I do drink soda it has to be vanilla coke, cream soda, or root beer.
- I have a queen size bed and I love having all that room to myself.
- I am very persuasive when I want to be.
- I fold my underwear and layer them in my drawer.
- I think that when I finally get married it will be to the guy that sent me flowers after our first date.
- I can't sleep on the couch or with the TV on.
- My whole house can be a mess, but if my floor is mopped then I am happy.
- I don't mind washing, drying, folding, and ironing my laundry... but I don't like to put it away.
- I have freckles.
~Kate
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Something I have learned
I have learned that your family isn't necessarily the people you are related to.
When I watched Fairy's son today sitting on the bench next to Trin smiling and laughing, I made a mental note to remember how they looked sitting there together. When I questioned the reason that I was trying to remember that moment, I realized it was because I wanted to be able to look at the two of them in ten years and tell them story of them sitting at the table together smiling and laughing as toddlers. There is no doubt in my mind that I have made a life long friend in Fairy and that she and I will still be hanging out and burning up the phone lines in ten years, in fifteen years, in twenty years. She is now family.
Every year, I drive down to the coast to spend Thanksgiving with Tempest and her two daughters. Tempest and I have been friends since I was fourteen years old. That is eleven years ago. Eleven years! That's almost half my life. My daughters consider her to be their aunt as her daughters do me. She is family.
Veronique's parents to the airport today it was heart wrenching to tell them goodbye. It took all I had not to cry until I was out of their sight. When they asked me if I would come and visit, I told them yes not because I feel obligated but because I already miss them and because I want them to be in my life. When Veronique's brother stopped by a few hours later and for the first time talked to me like he was comfortable and not because he felt obligated, I just wanted to hug him. They are now family.
The Cake Lady and I have known each other for five years now. She and I share similar family insanity and she is one of the few people I am completely comfortable around. I can go to her house and sit around and talk to her while she moves around cleaning and cooking and being the awesome mom and wife that she is and I can just bask in her happiness. She listens to me differently than other people listen to me. And she and I relate to each other in a way that is unique to our friendship. Our kids love each other and have known each other for so long that it's like they never didn't know each other. They are family.
I have other family too, people who have entered my life and been so impactful that I can't help but consider them family. Maybe this has a lot to do with my family being so fucked up. The relationship I have with my mother is so far from ideal. My childhood was crap. I also think that is the reason that I embraced motherhood so much. Because I was making my family. No more abuse, no more alcoholics, no more screaming and yelling, no more patronizing, no more disappointment. I wouldn't allow anyone to inflict upon my daughters the things that I had experienced. I wanted to live vicariously through them and experience all of the things I should have had through their eyes with double the enjoyment because I was providing them with it.
I am slowly realizing that I have to go out and find my 'family'. That while the people I am technically related to are my family by blood, there is another family out there that is mine. People I want to share my life with and who's live I want to be a part of. I am lucky to have known and to have found the people in my life.
~Kate
Saturday, June 04, 2005
as I was perusing
As I was looking around the blogosphere, I ran across this post about yours truly. How very nice, huh? I turn into that little kid looking at the ground and scuffing the toe of my shoe saying 'Wow, Thanks Mister'. I hate to be a broken record, but it always amazes me how many awesome readers I have. I guess I should stop holding your family members hostage...
Anyway, (do you ever want to say 'anyhoo' but stop yourself because it sounds stupid? Maybe that's just me...), a little further down the page, I ran across this. What a cool idea. I have to admit that my 'Blog Etiquette' book has been delayed in the mail as I am never sure how to properly steal a fellow blogger's idea. I read about memes but never did one because no one ever told me to and I think you are supposed to be asked... Is there a website for this? To tell you what is ok and what is a fopah? Please link me, lol. And while on the subject of things I don't know how to do, how do you guys get your 'comment' thingies to say something different?? I have no clue.
TEN Random Things About Me:
*I like the way my flip flops sound when I am running down the stairs.
*I smack my gum
*I can't keep plants alive
*I dig guys with nice arms
*I hate to cook
*I like to smile
*I laugh loudly
*I cuss A LOT
*I don't lie
*I hate silence
NINE Ways To Win My Heart:
*Genuinely care about my daughters
*Genuinely care about me
*Treat me like your best friend
*Listen to me talk
*Respect my need for space
*Do things with out being asked
*Enjoy the 'little weird things' about me
*Be honest
*Be loyal
EIGHT things I want to do before I die:
*See all three of my daughters turn into happy adults
*Go to Greece and Ireland
*Be in love and loved in return
*Make out with Matthew McConaughey
*Swim with dolphins
*Take my daughters to Disney World
*Travel with my daughters to a country of each of their choosing
*Buy a house
SEVEN ways to annoy me:
*Touch my belly button
*Sit around when people around you are up and working. This is the main reason I prefer to clean when no one is home.
*Treat people like crap
*Insult my children or treat them in a condescending manner
*Patronize me
*Lie
*put crumbs or sand in my sheets
SIX things I believe in:
*Karma
*Being a good parent. I think when you have children there is no going back you accept and embrace your parenthood and you do the best damn job that can be done.
*Friendship. There is a bond there, one that should be taken so seriously in all the things you do. You never betray your friends and you should always try and be a good friend to them.
*Happiness. Nothing in this world means anything if you don't wake up happy and go to sleep content.
*Hard work = results
*Wishing on shooting stars
FIVE things I'm afraid of:
*Death. Yeah, fuck being all profound and saying 'when my time comes, it comes, so why worry?' Death scares the shit out of me. I can't imagine my kids being without me or visa versa. I have to live at least until they are all adults, then revisit the fear.
*Something happening to one of my daughters.
*scorpions
*car accidents
*losing my stability
FOUR favorite items in my room:
*my books
*my death machine
*my bed
*my pictures
THREE things I do everyday:
*blog, of course... well, except for the weekends. But I usually write ideas for my blog on the weekends and I write what I consider 'filler entries' for days when I can't think of anything else to write.
*tell my daughters I love them
*drink a ton of water
TWO things I want to do right now:
*sleep
*clean
ONE person I want to see right now:
*Veronique. I think that will forever be the answer to that question.
Thank you Michael, for the compliment and for the idea.
~Kate
btw- throw Etiquette out the window and feel free to post these questions on your blog - I would love to see your answers :)
Friday, June 03, 2005
Suckity suck suck
Yeah, that pretty much covers yesterday. Timeline? Why of course..
June 1, 2005
10:00 pm - Kate decides to head to bed a little early since her lovely daughters are all sleeping contentedly in their respective beds..
June 2, 2005
1:40 am - Kate hears Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out playing VERY loudly by her head. This can only mean one of two things. The first (and less likely) is that Franz Ferdinand decided to come and give her a private concert... in her bedroom.. in the middle of the night (hence the unlikeliness). The other (and more logical) explanation is that my cell phone is ringing and it is my sister as her ringer is Take Me Out.
1:45 am - Kate grabs the phone and punches several buttons (never opening her eyes and risking being blinded by her bright cell phone light) before finding the right one.
Kate: ughn
Ruthie: Hey! Wake up.
Kate: ughn?
Ruthie: The car is dead.
Kate sits straight up in bed. Why? Because the last time Ruthie called her at an ungodly hour and said those words she had to say a final farewell to her Mazda through eyes full of tears as it was taken off to car heaven.
Kate: Define 'dead'.
Ruthie: I dunno. I came to Chili's with [friend] to eat and when we came out and tried to start the car it made this clicking sound. So, I went inside to get someone to jump us. I told them I had jumper cables (yeah, I have jumper cables BECAUSE Ruthie is consistently leaving the car on in some way and therefore causing me to jump it a few times a year and replace the battery more regularly than normal people). So, these guys came outside to help us (have I mentioned before that my sister has a huge rack?) and told me to try and turn it on, when I did it made the click-click-click noise again and they all said it was the starter and that trying to jump it wouldn't do anything. Then I called you. What should I do?
-insert thirty seconds of dead silence here as Kate searches her memory banks for the word 'starter'-
Ruthie: Kate? I'm serious, I don't know what to do.
Kate: I'll call you back.
Ruthie: What? Kate, I can't stand here all night!
Kate: I'll call you back.
Kate hangs up and tries to force ideas to form in her still very asleep and very tired brain. This does not go well.
2:00 am - Kate calls Mr. I.
One ring, two rings, three rings
Mr. I: ughn
Kate: I know, I am sorry. I need your help.
Mr. I: ughn?
Kate: My car is 'dead'. The guys there said it is the starter. Is that bad? (shut up, I am a girl. Sue me.)
Mr. I: No. It's like a hundred bucks. Where is your car?
Kate: Chili's.
Mr. I: By the dealership?
(there is a Chili's by the dealership where we work, like three miles. Having the car at this Chili's would have been very good instead of...)
Kate: No, like in [a town thirty minutes away from the dealership].
Mr. I: Oh no.
Kate: Yeah, I guess I should have it towed. Do you think that the part is stocked or will I need to order it?
Mr. I: No, Napa will have it or I can get it for you in San Antonio tomorrow.
Kate: Ok, thank you. I am sorry I woke you up. I am going to get it towed.
Mr. I: Ok, bye.
2:30 am Kate is sitting at her desk looking up tow places in San Antonio. There are 102. Kate decides to go against her grain and just pick the first one rather than price compare.
2:40 am Kimberly: Hi, this is Kimberly with [whatever the hell the company's name was] Towing. What can I do for you?
Kate: Hi, yeah, I need my car towed. (How many times a day do you think she hears that brilliant phrase?)
Kimberly: Sure, no problem. Why do you need it towed?
Kate (confused): Ummm, because it won't start' You see there is a clicking noise and the guys at Chili's said it was my starter... but I wasn't there, so I don't know. Do you know?
Kimberly: So, there wasn't an accident or anything? It just won't start?
Kate: um, yeah. There wasn't an accident.
Kimberly: Great! Where do you need it towed?
Kate: [my place of employment]. How much will that be?
Kimberly: Hang on a sec and let me see.
Elevator music... not good for keeping Kate awake.
Kimberly: Are you there?
Kate (yawning): yup
Kimberly: ok, should be about 125.00.
Kate: Ok, my sister is there and she has my credit card. Thank you.
2:50 am Ruthie: hello?
Kate: ok, they are coming. They are taking it to my job. You need to give them my credit card info when they get there ok?
Ruthie: ok. I am so sorry!
Kate: If it's the starter then it isn't your fault. Just make sure you get my things out of the car before you leave.
Ruthie: ok. So you will need me there to watch the girls tomorrow right?
Kate: yes. See you later.
Ruthie: ok, bye.
3:00 am Kate calls her voicemail on her cell phone and send both of her boss' phones a voicemail explaining dilemma.
3:15 am Kate calls Jiffinner, Jiffinner doesn't answer.
3:20 am Kate calls NewGirl. NewGirl does answer and is all chipper and awake. This freaks Kate out as she can't understand why anyone in their right mind would be awake at 3am. Kate explains to NewGirl about car and asks her to be at work at 8am. NewGirl says that is fine.
3:30 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
3:40 am Cell phone rings. It is Kimberly. She wants to know if Kate wants the car locked into the secure area at her job. Kate doesn't care, but says that is fine.
3:45 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
3:55 am Cell phone rings. It is Ruthie. She says she isn't going to be home until tomorrow and can Kate take the girls to daycare. Kate again tries to fire up her brain unsuccessfully. Having no idea whether this is a plausible idea, she says 'fine' and then hangs up.
4:05 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
4:15 am Kimberly calls to tell Kate that Ruthie said to just park the car in the parking lot. Kimberly asks which it is; the secure area or the parking lot. Kate says secure area and tells Kimberly to have a nice night.
4:25 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
4:35 am Kate gets text message from NewGirl asking for a wake up call at 6:45. 4:40 am Kate responds to text message from NewGirl
4:45 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
5:00 am Cell phone rings. It is Kimberly. She says that they can't get into secure area. Kate says she doesn't give a flying fuck (in a very nice way) and to just park the goddamned car anywhere.
5:10 am Kate lays down to go to sleep.
6:00 am Kate's alarm clock goes off. Kate is confused. She dreamed that she had the day off. Could that be true? She dreamed also that someone gave her a new car. Could that be true? Disoriented, Kate hits snooze.
6:10 am Kate's alarm clock goes off. Kate grabs cell phone and calls Fairy to beg use of her car for the day. No answer.
6:20 am Kate tries Fairy again but her mother answers. Her mother is pissed. Kate apologizes profusely for waking her and asks for Fairy. Fairy says that Kate can use her car and she will be there at 7:15.
And there you have it, a typical Thursday morning.
For those of you chewing your nails and wondering what the outcome of this was, I will tell you. It was not my starter, but rather my alternator. Alternators seem to be the bane of my existence as this is the third time in two cars that I have had to replace them. So, nearly three hundred dollars later (for towing and parts and labor), my car started fine... of course, it overheated on the way home and I had to put coolant in it. Hopefully that was all that was wrong!
~Kate
Labels: Being a Chic
Thursday, June 02, 2005
the direct definition of pain
I knew after Veronique died that I wasn't always going to be in full control of my emotions any more, I knew that some times I was going to hear a song on the radio or see a photograph or remember how great she was and I was going to start crying. I knew that holidays and birthdays would be hard. I knew that when I remembered 'that one time', I was going to miss her so much it would hurt. I knew that I was going to think about her a lot and wish she was here constantly.
I didn't know that I was not ever going to have any control over my emotions again. I didn't know that the pain and longing for her would be completely overwhelming. I didn't know that every single thing I see on a day to day basis would make me think of her and wish she was here. I didn't know that I was going to form such a fast and strong bond with her mother. I didn't know that her smell would bring tears to my eyes. I didn't know that I would never ever again feel like she was here or even connected to her in any way.
Everyone told me when I lost Veronique that I would need help, I would need to talk, I would probably need professional help. But I didn't want to share my pain with anyone, I didn't want to unload on anyone because I wanted to feel it all, I wanted all of the pain to be mine and mine alone because she deserved that. She deserved the most of everything including my grief. You know when you have something so great, that makes you feel so fabulous and you don't want to tell anyone? I know, it rarely happens to me either :) But sometimes, you have such a special and huge secret that you want to keep it all to yourself because sharing it would take just a little of it away and you aren't ready to lose any of it, not even a tiny piece... Well, imagine the TOTAL opposite and you have what I felt. I know so many of you were worried about me and many of you thought to yourselves that I was handling it all TOO well because I wouldn't share it with you, with anyone. It's not that I kept it inside, I just kept it to myself. I was selfish with my pain because I didn't want to share it. Sometimes I wonder if I am selfish with her, with my memories... I frequently put her and my friendship up on a pedestal and it seems as though everything else pales in comparison. I loved her so much. Now I have changed and am definitely different. It's like when you learn there is no Santa Claus and your innocence is ripped away from you forever leaving you jaded. Only, it isn't just a lesson. It isn't like burning your hand on the stove where it heals and you have learned not to do it again. It never heals, it never lessens, it only changes, varying in degrees as time passes but still coming back with such extreme force that it could have just happened all over again.
I spent Monday with Veronique's mother. In reality, I thought I would go over there for an hour or two and help with some packing and then I would take the things that she wanted me to have home and put them in my closet with all of the other things of Veronique's that I am not ready to have out. I thought I would have some tea and cry and laugh and leave. Imagine my surprise when I felt such a pull towards her mother. It only took us forty five minutes to get everything I would be taking home loaded into my car and then the talking started.
You'd think that we would just talk about Veronique since that would seemingly be the only thing that the two of us would have in common. You would think that but you would be wrong, as I was. Of course I am going to be able to talk to this woman. Not only because we share the same pain and fond memories but because she is part of the reason that Veronique was who she was. She is her mother. They have so much that is the same and since Veronique's personality was so appealing to me, so is her mother's. Suddenly, on Monday, I was overcome with a new grief. I am going to now lose her when they move to Florida this weekend. The very thought of this makes me so sad. She is the closest I have felt to Veronique since she died and now she is leaving too.
She came by last night and she hugged me and I felt the emotions rip through me. It takes effort now for me not to cry. I am not a crier. In fact, if you asked Tempest, who has known me for over ten years, how many times she has seen me cry she would tell you once... maybe twice. And now, I feel like crying so many times a day that it takes physical effort to keep it from happening. Her mother hugged me and I forced the tears back. I told her I was sad she was leaving and she told me that she was going to miss me so much, so much that she was already missing me. I am already missing her. I feel like I have lost so much this year.
~Kate
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
New diet…
Yes, I have to apologize because I am going to revert to being a total chic for this post. I am going to post about a new diet I heard about so you boys who aren’t into diets may want to scamper on over to ESPN for today and check back tomorrow when I will be posting more of my normal crap :P
Ok, the description for this diet is as follows:
This is diet is used at a Birmingham, AL hospital cardiac unit for patients who need to lose weight in a hurry before heart surgery. You can lose up to 40lbs per month.
The diet tells you exactly what you can eat for three straight days:
Do not vary or substitute any of the food. Salt and pepper may be used, but no other seasonings. This diet is to be used three days at a time. In three days, you will lose ten pounds. After three days of dieting, you can eat your usual food, but don’t overeat. After four days of normal eating, start back on your three day diet.
Sounds pretty simple right? At least worth a shot, I mean, hell, it’s three days. So here is the menu:
DAY #1
Breakfast: black coffee or tea, ½ a grapefruit or 6oz of juice, 1 slice of toast, 2 tablespoons of peanut butter
Lunch: 1 cup tuna or salmon, 1 slice of bread, coffee or tea
Dinner: 2 slices any type meat (2oz), 1 cup string beans, 1 cup beets or carrots, 1 small apple, 1 cup vanilla ice cream
DAY #2
Breakfast: black coffee or tea, 1 egg, 1 slice toast, ½ banana
Lunch: 1 cup cottage cheese or tuna, 5 saltine crackers, coffee or tea
Dinner: 2 hotdogs, 1 cup broccoli or cabbage, ½ cup carrots, ½ banana, ½ cup vanilla ice cream
DAY #3
Breakfast: black coffee or tea, 5 saltine crackers, 1oz cheddar cheese, 1 small apple
Lunch: 1 hard boiled egg, 1 slice toast, coffee or tea
Dinner: 1 cup tuna, 1 cup beets or carrots, 1 cup cauliflower or greens, 1 cup cantaloupe, ½ cup vanilla ice cream
That’s it. Yeah, it doesn’t look like that much fun to eat… but it’s three days. There’s no month long commitment or painful torture :P You just suck it up and eat.. well, weird stuff for three days and then you are free. Anyway, I am going to try it with Jiffinner. We are starting on Tuesday (because it coincides with our schedules) and see if it works. Plus, it is CHEAP! Man, that whole deal won’t cost me hardly anything.
Any takers?? Anyone want to see if it works with us? Click comments and let us know if you want to try it with us because it would sure be neat to see if it does work and how everyone’s results end up.~Kateskipping away to start her pile of reports
