Happy Leap Year!

Or Day...

Whichever it is :)

Labels: At work

So we haven't seen or talked to the boy since Tuesday... that would be the same day in which we discovered that he is a little slimy weasel that we don't want to play with anymore.
Yesterday we were training in Town An Hour Away to do job of The Chic We Never Really Got Along With. Now, we weren't training because we are planning to do her job but because we needed to be cross trained to cover for her should she take a vacation or get sick or not show up (as she is prone to doing).
But we never intended to actually have her job.
Especially not recently when she has seemed to be on her game.

Yesterday, we got Some Dirt on The Slimy Weasel (has a nice ring to it doesn't it?)...
[What is it called when one refers to them self as a "we" for an entire blog post?]
So we are d-y-i-n-g to hear The Dirt but somehow get roped into lunch at The Awesomest Place In The World (for those of you not in the know, that would be Olive Garden) and so we couldn't call her on our lunch break and had to wait two more excruciating hours until we were driving home to get The Dirt.
[It isn't third person... Help a sister out...]
So when we are finally free and in our Brand New Freestyle... with leather and a moon roof driving home, we dial up for The Dirt and snuggle into our leather seat for the hour drive and hopefully an hours worth of good Dirt.
Sadly The Dirt was all confirming what we posted on Tuesday about how The Previously Adorable and Super Nice Cute Boy at work is actually a Slimy Weasel. And he isn't even a Smart Slimy Weasel. He is instead a dumbass. He is going around work telling people about how he is juggling multiple chics and all freaking out that they will find out about each other.
Did I mention that he is doing this AT WORK?
You know, where one of the chics he is "juggling" happens to spend fifty hours of her week?
Well lucky for him, there is now one less chic to be juggled.
There is one more chic to watch out for "accidentally" kicking you in the nuts, but one less chic to worry about juggling.
Armed with this news since Tuesday and only just having it confirmed yesterday, we had been trying to decide how exactly we wanted to react.
Did we want to pretend we didn't know and just cold shoulder the boy out?
Did we want to send The Slimy Weasel a nasty email telling him he is a Slimy Weasel?
Did we want to act like we didn't know and pull the "I've decided to see someone else" card?
Did we want to slash his tires?
Did we want to sit down and tell him we know he is a Slimy Weasel and stupid to boot for blabbing at work?

There were so many choices...
And we really couldn't pick one.
So we thought about it all day yesterday while we were training in Town An Hour Away... we thought about it when we were driving... we thought about it while we were making dinner... we thought about it while we were dropping The Girls off at Softball Practice... we thought about it while we were walking Tucker... we thought about it while we laid in bed last night... we thought about it when we talked to Snakeman...
We thought about it a lot and really couldn't quite come to a decision.
So this morning when we got to work and were talking to Snow on the phone and we saw that he was already here and we still hadn't made up our mind as to what we were going to do, we panicked a little.
[It's called referring to yourself in the plural. I'm totally referring to myself in the plural. I wonder why... Maybe I'm lonely...]
So we told Snow that we had to run because we were at work and we had to face The Music. (The Music = The Slimy Weasel in this case...)
Somewhere in between the car and the seeing The Slimy Weasel for the first time today, we decided to act like nothing had ever happened and that we didn't know that anything had happened.
Why?
We aren't sure.
[You know the Empress from The Never Ending Story totally referred to herself in the plural all the time, like the whole movie. Didn't she?]
Probably because we don't want waves. We are Anti-Waves as it were and have a tendency to avoid them. Like the plague. Also because we are professional. We don't want to create a crappy workplace even if some people apparently don't give two shits about wave making and crappy workplace promoting...
The fact is that there isn't anything that can be done.
A mistake was made (this would be a judgment mistake on my part and a moral mistake on his, I believe) and it can't be reversed and since The Universe has yet to instill in me the right to inflict karmic punishment on others in her name, what's a girl to do?
Except let it go.
Does this mean I will continue sleeping with The Slimy Weasel? It does not. It means that I will be just as nice as I was previous to his transition from Cute New Boy to his current status.
I am going rewind to November and start over.
I am going to be the nice rockin' chic that I have always been and take The Sex off the table. Because he so doesn't deserve The Sex.
And my gut tells me that he will at some point try and get The Sex again and when he does? I will so totally tell him that I know about him being a Slimy Weasel and that no, he cannot get The Sex from me any more.
That's right.
[Ha! I stopped! I'm back to first person! Go me!]
So here's the thing, I get to work today and The Slimy Weasel is totally acting like he was before. All nice and hanging out and flirting. And I'm all looking for that iron box to put my not-able-to-withstand-kryptonite feelings into. Because even though we know that The Slimy Weasel is a Slimy Weasel, the flirting still somehow makes our stomach do flip flops.
[Damn it, I started again! Stop it Kate! I think it has to do with him.]
Anyway, he is all back to his old tricks... you remember them right? Check out October of '06 if you've forgotten.
Oh and for you hard core LOC junkies? October of '06 isn't the only place I've hidden Top Secret Posts.
They are riddled through out this blog.
Riddled I tell you.
His old tricks? They suck because I have to remind my too-forgiving self that we don't like his punk ass anymore.
Note to Self: We. Don't. Like. His. (Charming). Punk-Ass. Any. Fucking. More. Damn. It.

Then, around 8:03am, my Boss comes in and closes my door and lets me know that I am being "promoted" into The Chic We Never Really Got Along With's job. Because she is being fired/let go/quitting. And so I am getting a raise (yay!) and bonuses (double yay!) but I am spending the next two weeks learning how to do her job. And then the next several months trying to balance her job and my current job (and really earning the raise/bonuses).
But I can so totally do it.
And I know it and my boss knows it and apparently his boss knows it too.

Just so long as I can find some repellant for The Slimy Weasel so that I stop being tempted to forgive his lying ass and hop back into bed with him. What the fuck is wrong with me anyway that a day of him being charming is all it takes for me to want to let it go? I am severely damaged.
Severely.
I so just sat here for like five minutes and debated deleting all of that Super Honesty above about The Slimy Weasel because I don't want you all thinking I am a Loser Chic.
But I can't.
Because that just wouldn't be keeping it real.
And those of us that speak of ourselves in the plural? We especially have to keep it real.

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, Being Retarded, Dating, I'm a loser, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, self loathing, Snakeman, The Universe, Tucker

God I know better.
I totally know better than to get involved with someone who I work with.
I totally know better than to get involved with someone who is younger than me.
And I totally know better than to get involved with someone who puts down clauses about a lack of seriousness.
I even TOLD you at one point that I wouldn't get involved with someone who I worked with again unless it was serious. Unless there was a thread of serious intentions running through it. I mean, obviously one can't know for sure, but I wasn't intending to randomly sleep with a dude I worked with unless I was 'seeing where things were going' not as 'The Rebound Chic' and... well the part of the rebound chic will be played by Katehopeeden today...
I totally know better.
And yet, for reasons I am not completely sure of, I chose to ignore all of those things with you.
I believe it was because you were ridiculously nice. (And I am ridiculously stupid.)
Because you genuinely seemed to care. Because of those things I was able to "see past" all of my rules and knowing better.
Which worked out rather nicely for you, I suppose.
I, on the other hand, am feeling rather like an asshole.
Mostly because I believed you when you said that we were going to see where this was going, if anywhere. And I was totally cool with that. Partially because I wasn't in any hurry to jump into anything... Partially because I didn't know how I felt about you anyway and partially because we do work together. But mostly? Mostly because I thought you were being straight with me. And mostly because I believed you were being straight with me about that and about how we weren't going to see other people.
But I knew.
God I fucking knew.
I knew last week.
Want to know how I knew? Because I have dated - hell, I've been in relationships with people who were seeing other people. And because I have this vast freaking knowledge of exactly how it feels to be The Other Chic, I knew. At first, I thought I was being paranoid, even had conversations about how I was letting my past relationships overshadow my feelings. About how I was acting too much on jaded feelings and not just letting things flow.
Well fuck things flowing.
Exactly nine days ago you and I stood in your office and made plans with each other to get together two nights later. And two nights later you stood me up with the excuse that we didn't actually confirm those plans. Which made me feel like an asshole and really made you look like an asshole. But because this is new, because it is all supposed to be clean slate and because I am too nice for my own stupid good, I believed you when you said you didn't have your phone and even tried to see things for your perspective. But I knew that your reaction wasn't the one I was expecting and I'm pretty sure not the one I would have gotten a few weeks ago.
Deciding to let bygones be bygones, twenty four hours later, I let it go and acted like nothing had ever happened.
And it didn't matter because suddenly you started to act differently.
And I was all thinking that there was no way that was because of me. My reaction to you having blown me off could not possibly have warranted your change in temperature.
There was something else.
Ok, so at first, I did think it was me. That maybe I'd come on too strong, although I seriously doubted it. Maybe you'd realized that it was too much seeing someone with whom you worked, which was possible. I ran through the whole effing list of shit that I could have done and couldn't seem to find something that warranted it.
So after I spent like four hours in therapy reminding myself that there isn't anything wrong with me and I need to get out of the habit of blaming myself for everything going wrong, I took a look at you.
You suddenly stopped making eye contact which I took as a sign of guilt. You suddenly started asking the other chic who we work with to help you with stuff which I took as a sign of you avoiding me. And on the occasions in which I did help you with something, like today, it was so very awkward.
Now I noticed the reason why yesterday but didn't want to jump to conclusions, but then today it happened again and I am not An Idiot (nor do I play one on TV, even when I'm standing in as The Rebound Chic). Your cell phone rang and instead of you answering it, "Hello this is the boy" or "Hey Buddy!" you answered it with a quiet "hello" and then proceeded to talk to some chic quietly and with much flirting. And so, because I am not in the habit of being An Idiot (at least not on purpose), today I stood out in the lobby with three other people, all of whom could hear your conversation and pretended to be interested in what they were saying while I listened to you.
Listened to you flirt shamelessly.
And listened to the following conversation which pretty much solidified things for me:
"Do I smoke? Wait, did you say smoke? Oh "snore", I thought you said smoke. Well, sometimes if I'm out at a club I might have a couple of cigarettes... but as to the other? Well, you'll just have to wait and find out..."
You could practically hear the wink. You know, the one I actually saw not two weeks ago when you used that tone with me.
At which point I went back to my office because it was inherently clear to me that you've found some other chic that you are into and the thing is? That's fine. But god damn, you could have unhooked me before you re-baited. I've just been hanging here trying to figure out what's going on for days.
I'm a big girl and it's only been a couple of weeks, I'm fairly certain I could have recovered and even continue being friends after our "fling" but you, you are a chicken shit. You didn't even have the balls to tell me? It's just disrespectful. And now, I don't know if I can go back to being friends. Mostly because I am feeling like The Stupid Used Girl.

Dissapointedly,
The Rebound Girl
KHE

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, Being Retarded, Dating, fucking pissed, I actually had sex, I'm a loser, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, self loathing

I think it carried over from yesterday which carried over from last week and all has to do with the same thing.
The same thing being that boy at work.
The one who made my stomach do flip flops mere weeks ago.
The boy who it seemed everything was going oh so well with.
The boy who practically ignores me now.
Ok, maybe that's too drastic a call. He isn't ignoring me, per se. I mean, he was just in here talking to me about waxing my car. One doesn't typically discuss vehicle maintenance when one is ignoring someone.
But something changed since my Top Secret Posts (which were hidden back in October of 2006, fyi) a few weeks ago.
And I don't think that that something was our apparent misunderstanding last week about getting together.
But maybe I'm wrong.
I don't think I am.
In fact, I think that six months from now I will be able to post about some random conversation I've had with the boy and explain the whole thing.
And I think that the whole thing is going to be that the boy has met someone.
Because I am pretty sure that is what is going on.
It's a gut feeling I'm having.
One that I can't really clarify as we aren't really in that place where I can bring up a So Where Do We Stand conversation.
A few weeks ago, he was in my office every possible chance.
And he would call.
And now? Now it feels like he is doing the minimal contact. Just enough to make sure that he doesn't seem to be ignoring me.
And the thing is? We instituted a clause making that ok a few weeks ago.
And right now? He is totally able to shift us back to Friends Only without it being something I could throw a fit about.
Not that I would throw a fit.
Because I am totally not that girl.
But I digress.
The point of my random post?
I am getting the vibe that I should back off of whatever it was that we were doing. And I've had that vibe for a few days. So that is what I am going to do. And if I'm wrong, oh well. Because honestly? I have no freaking idea of what else I could do.

Labels: Being a Chic, My pathetic excuse for a love life

I've been thinking about this dream that I had last night all morning trying to think of some way to take it from dream form and put it into blog form. It's hard because so much of it was the way it felt and it's hard to convey that.
I was at a bar of some kind, it seemed that it was mostly outside and then this song came on... I don't know if it was on headphones or the speaker system or what but it came on and I remember the song being so... deep. Like I felt this song the way you would feel a Damien Rice song.
Now I wasn't at the bar to drink or hang out with friends, I was waiting for something.
And when this song came on, I kind of wandered around jamming out to the song. And that was when HE saw me and came over and suddenly I knew why I was there. I was waiting for him. He came and danced with me and then kissed me. And not that fire through your body kiss that is all about how quickly you can get naked but rather that soulful love kiss. Someone, his boss I guess, told us we could go out back... we walked around the back of the building and there is a pool with this chaise lounge next to it and he laid down on it and I laid down in front of him, his arms wrapped around me.
It was all that stuff that I've been blogging about here. All of that comfort and oneness and security. Obviously right? Have it on the brain and it follows you to bed...
But here was the weird thing, I am laying there talking to this guy and he asks me what would be the one thing you would tell her? and I answer him this, I would tell her about this... about you. Then she wouldn't be so anxious, she would know it was coming.
I knew that it was me talking to me, I knew that the "she" she was referring to was herself in the past. He was asking her what she would tell herself from so many years ago.
It was like I was sending myself this message from the future in my dreams.
And this guy, I couldn't see him. He had dark hair but I don't remember anything else and he was everything to me. I can't even explain this feeling of perfect completeness that accompanied him and us. It was like I dream it to be where there is no doubt just knowing.

Labels: dreams, My pathetic excuse for a love life

God it is like a million times easier to say how happy and stable and secure I am in my life when I don't have an alternative.
Even when I like someone.
Even then I can say, "yeah but..." and find a way to make it all ok that they aren't a permanent fixture in my life.
But man, when someone likes me back...
When someone does even just a few of those things that make that part of my mind open up.. that part that is usually sealed off... that part that allows me to think about the 'what if's'.
Once you open up The What If part, suddenly it becomes ridiculously apparent exactly how much more there is out there that you don't have even when you feel like you have it all.
And it doesn't have to be that person. You don't have to have them. But some of the stuff that they do? You realize you miss that stuff. And that you want that stuff. God you want that stuff.
You want someone to push your hair back behind your ear. Or lay on the couch and watch a movie with. You want someone who will call you on your way home to make sure that you are ok. You want someone to try and kiss the bad away. Or buy you tube socks.
You just want that connection with someone else.
That level of comfort.
And even if you know it isn't going to be that person, even if you know that they aren't Your Person... you just dig your fucking claws in anyway because it's as close as you've gotten for a long time. And god you don't want to go back into the world of pretending like you don't need it or that it doesn't exist.
Maybe it's all we've got but it's all I need.

You're just sitting there one day all happy with your life and then someone dangles a little piece of something that could make you happier in front of you and you just wish that they hadn't.
You wish you'd gotten up and went to the bathroom before they showed up and they'd dangled it in front of someone else.

Labels: my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life

I don't have new pics because I am so behind with everything technical right now.
But these are the pics from the dealer site (which I was soooo glad I found before they pulled her from their site!)...

Labels: my crazy life

"OH. MY. GOD. Mommy! You look HORRIBLE!"

I should look horrible. Evidentally I've been rendered ridiculously ill. I woke up at 2am shaking and running a nasty fever.
So I am staying home today. And I'll be taking pity donations until tonight.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Amanda asks, "Hey Mom? Is it better to have your own kids or adopt some?"

I answer, "Well, I've never adopted any kids baby so I don't really know."

She continues with, "Well I mean, you say it really hurts... Wouldn't it be easier to adopt?"

"Amanda, I don't think anything worth having is easy."

She thinks about it for a few seconds before saying, "Geez Mom, look at you - all wise right before you go to sleep."

Totally my kid.

Totally.





Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy

Labels: Amanda, Being a Chic, Being Mommy, My broken foot, my crazy life

One of the questions I get asked rather frequently now that I am a Home Owner... I totally pictured a super hero jumping up onto my desk, clad in cape and tights saying, "NOW THAT I AM A HOME OWNER!!" With the echo effect and everything...
Anyway, now that I have a house, people keep asking me what I am going to decorate with... Mostly I am all decorate? I haven't even put the shit I already have away yet...
How funny that all of the years you spend renting and no one gives a rat's ass about what you are putting on your walls but as soon as you buy something you are expected to go all interior decorator.
Well combine the above questioning with the fact that I now mysteriously hate all of my furniture and I have been considering my decorating options, if you will.
Now I feel I must tell all of you that, just as I don't know my ass from cookware, I don't know my ass from decorating either. But I figured that I would just see something and be inspired and everything would follow that.
So I browsed furniture, I browsed bedsets, I browsed area rugs...
Nothing moved me.
Ok well I was a little bit moved by one set of sheets... but Jiffinner said that the age equivalent of those sheets was twelve.

So in my random internet browsing, I happened across - of all things - art. Which really surprised me since I am in no way, shape or form an art buff. I mean, I think that very mainstream art rocks. Like Van Gogh. I dig the shit out of Van Gogh. But who doesn't?
The other day I happen across this painting set, called Karma, and fell in love...

I love the colors, I love the flowers, I love the set.
So I googled the artist, whose name is Don Li-Leger and found more work that I loved.
Here are a few paintings that I will totally have to have...

So I was showing these to someone and they are all, "Oh, so you're going with an Asian theme?"
And I'm all, "huh?"
Fact is that I just like the colors and the flowers. I think that it's gorgeous.
Ideally, I'd like to get all of the paintings that I just posted for you... but it will take a little while because apparently art is expensive and I can't all be blowing a grand on paintings what with needing to buy food and stuff :)
I can get the prints way cheaper but evidentally I like stretched canvas. Who knew?
But on the plus side, now that I've apparently found my Inner Decorating Goddess, I at least know what direction I am heading towards. I now have an idea of what colors I want to use. Even if I can't get all the paintings initially, I can start getting the other things that will match. And that's exciting.
Apparently, I've found my inspiration.

What do ya'll think?

Labels: Being a Chic, my crazy life

My post yesterday was pretty indicative of the steps I have taken to be where I am now. When I look back at the me from five years ago and compare her with the me today, I can't believe we are the same girl. I feel like I watched someone else grow up. I feel like I watched someone else's lessons.
So I mentally pulled out my Goal List the other day and dusted it off.
There isn't much on it to begin with, but everything on there is checked off.
What do you do when you've done the things you set out to do in the time frame you set out to do them?
What is the next step?
I'm the kind of person who is motivated by steps towards accomplishing my goals. And now, as I cross Buying a House off of my list, I'm not sure what I am working towards. I love my job, I have a fantastic support/therapy system in place with my phenomenal friends, I've hit a level of security in myself and in my situations (both parental and financial), I'm not terrified any more that The Next Thing will knock everything down and make it to where I need to start over. I'm curious about the possibilities of a relationship but no where near needing one. I've set my limits with my family and how I let them effect my life, my mood and my heart. It was a hard thing to do but so necessary for my well being.
So now, I am sitting here with a dusty old list that only has a few things left on it:
New Car This Month
Greenhouse
Beach Trip '08
Beach Trip '09
Ireland '10
Buy an awesome convertible car to rebuild by '15
Don't mess the kids up :)

So I am setting two personal goals to have in motion by the end of this year and to have completed by the end of next year. Two very personal goals.
Get in shape.
Write my book.

I am putting them here today, February 5th 2008.
I am declaring to those of you who come by frequently and infrequently - I will accomplish these two things.
It's time for the writing. It's time to finally put it all together somehow and complete it. You all know I've never had a problem throwing snippets at you, but never anything complete... I'm ready to start working on something that I will finish.
You know, since I've proved I can finish things :)

Labels: Beach Trip, Being a Chic, Being Mommy, Dating, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, The Universe

Four years and some odd months ago, I packed up everything I owned and moved my daughters and myself into this tiny white house next door to a diesel mechanic's shop.
I was terrified.
I was twenty three and although this would be the second time I had lived completely alone, I was literally starting completely over.
New job, new house, new life.
Everything in the house was white.. The outside, the inside... everything. It was very symbolic of my clean slate. I remember it being very bright when I first moved in. I didn't own much and the little I did own didn't take up much room.
It made me stand up a little straighter to be there, to have all of the control over my life again.
That house was my first "home" with my family and it is where we live the longest since having become a family.
There were so many firsts there.

Triniti said her first words in that house.
I realized that I could love and not be loved in return.
Amanda liked her first boy.
Emilee chopped off all of her hair.

And I hated that house. It was too small, had an insane amount of issues, didn't heat or cool particularly well, didn't have a dishwasher... It was like the house was telling me that she would take care of me, but she wasn't about to pamper me. I had to grow, I had to learn, I had to tough some things out.
And the thing is, Mr. I said to me once when I was bitching about it, "Kate, what would you have given two years ago to have this place? To be on your own and taking care of your girls? To not be trapped or not have options?"
And I would have given anything.

I lost my best friend.
Triniti colored her first picture.
Amanda stayed home alone for the first time.
Emilee played catcher.

When I was with AZ and scared shitless about where my life was heading, when I was with NY and wanted so badly to not have to be any more... I begged The Universe to save me, to help me, to give me any way out. And I think that The Universe did.
The Universe offered me this tiny house, no bigger than a vacation cottage, and she said to me Kate, start your life.
And I really did.
Over those years, I learned so much about the person I had been,the person I wanted to become and the person I truly was.
I learned that I am responsible.
I learned that I am capable.
I learned that I can be scared but I don't back down.
I learned that I can get the things I want by working for them.
I learned how to be a mother alone.
I learned that I choose my family.
I learned who and what is important to me.
I learned that my life is up to me.

I laid in bed some nights absolutely terrified about how I would survive, how I would not fail my daughters. I laid in bed other nights so very thankful that I was surviving and being the best mother I could be. I went from questioning my ability to do anything to knowing I could do everything. For myself. On my own.

I set goals for myself in every aspect and followed through with them on my own.
Triniti was diagnosed with Asperger's.
Amanda wore her first bra.
Emilee taught us about reincarnation and auras.

I look back at all of the years I spent being unhappy, all of the years where I was in situations where I so desperately wanted out but didn't know how to run and I thank my lucky stars that I had that little house. That when I needed most to start over, I could. And not just start over, but start entirely. I began my life there. I became myself there.

Saturday when I was there packing up the last of my stuff and cleaning that little house, I started to see the house as I had all those years ago when I moved into it. It reminds me of an old hard woman inviting me in, telling me I can stay but that she isn't going to help me, I'm on my own. I was scared of that old woman four years ago, I didn't believe in myself or my judgement. But now, as I am leaving her, she is a friend... I started to remember the first night I laid in my bed there and listened to the new noises of my life. I remembered the first time I had to paint the walls because Triniti colored all over them. I remembered actually having enough room to set up a Christmas tree because I had no furniture. I remembered Veronique and I laying on my bed reading books about boys and laughing at the idea of actually following the advice in them. I remembered assembling furniture on Christmas Eve. I remembered getting us our first doggy and how much we all loved her. I remembered buying my first brand new washer and dryer and my first car. I remembered being in love for the first time since being independent. And how much it hurt when it didn't work out. I remembered all of these things and I realized that I was going to miss that house that I shared so much with.

I bought a brand new mattress.
Triniti grew her first curls...
Amanda went to her first concert...
Emilee taught herself to ride a bike...

I feel like that little house was my cocoon.
When I moved there, I was just a grubby little caterpillar.
And while I certainly don't feel like a glorious butterfly right now, I certainly feel like I can fly.

Labels: Amanda, Asperger's, Being a Chic, Being Mommy, Chica, community, death, dreams, Emilee, I actually had sex, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, The Universe, Triniti, Veronique