Karan-a-go-go

It’s the weekend- yay!  I am happy to not have much of anything planned except for more work around the house.  I love the thought of getting there tonight and not leaving until Sunday; although, really that’s not what’s going to happen on account of my kids and their crazy social schedule. 

FOUR birthday parties this weekend!  FOUR! 

Anyway, for me that just means a lot of dropping off and picking up; hopefully, in between that I can get some stuff done.  My plan includes totally emptying my daughter’s room and then returning much less stuff to it and in a different layout.  I’ve got the before pics, so look for a “before and after” post next week.

The only other part of my plan involves some required reading, a little writing, and maybe cooking some soup on Sunday. 

Have a great weekend, everyanyone!

  I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m trying to get back to regular posting, so I thought I’d just check in. 

Well, I do have something: I’m on the wagon.  Off the sauce.  I’ve been this way now for a WHOLE week and two days.  I feel pretty good, except that I’ve totally let myself eat way too much of the kids’ Halloween candy.  Sort of, “well, my body wants the sugar it would naturally take in via a few glasses of red zin, soooo… why not eat seven of these Almond Joys?”

Anyway, I hope to curb sugar next; fun size M&Ms don’t have quite the same draw for me as dark, craft beer or champagne, so hopefully all will go smoothly.

In other news, I am contemplating a new blog based on my 41st year (or, really, I guess it’s my 42nd year, right?) of life.  I am on a serious search for genuine health and happiness and, to that end, I’m trying to narrow my focus to the few things that I really want to do well: getting sober and fit (physically, spiritually, mentally); rearing well-adjusted and happy children; maintaining positive relationships; and WRITING.  All that should take up most, if not all, of my time.  (Although, I’d like to do some of that while traveling, so count that, too: travel.)

I’m thinking of a one year blog.  Operation 41.  Project 41.  Something like that. Fred suggested Area 41, which I thought was funny, but not what I want.  Anyone else have any suggestions?

So, the thing about this blog is this: it’s really an online diary.  I don’t think that’s necessarily what I intended it to be when I started it, but I have a tendency- even in my more thematic Mommyhood blog- to write in a confessional style.  I write what I know and what I know best is me and how my brain works.  I could just as easily be spilling all of my secrets to you at a cocktail party or a PTO meeting as on this blog, and in return, I’d want to know all about you- your thoughts, your feelings, your fears, and what makes you happy.

I’ve come to accept this about myself, this openness;  I think it comes from being a weird combination of  intensely introspective and extremely extroverted.  Being this way helps me know others on a deeper level (if they’ll let me), helps me better understand myself, and- frankly- makes my life a little more interesting than if I were to suffer a bunch of bullshit small talk.  Overall, I’ll take it.

There is a problem with this kind of candor, though: it renders me more vulnerable to criticism than I might be if I were close-mouthed.  Because I am always trying to sort things out, or get to the truth of something, I can end up sounding a bit neurotic.  Which works if you’re Woody Allen, but maybe not so much for Jane Q. Public. 

For instance, I heard (second-hand) recently  that someone attributed my relationship woes to my being “insecure”.  While I don’t think this was intended as an insult, I was nevertheless taken aback.  I mean, it’s true that I have insecurities (and I’ll go so far as to say I have more than my fair shair), but who among us doesn’t?  Because I am more likely to share my doubts and fears with others, in an effort to connect or to learn something from someone else- or even just to vent- I’m afraid I’ve given people an incomplete picture of myself. 

In reality, I’m a warm, funny, smart, flawed, and strong person who- despite sometimes being full of fear- has managed to do some pretty fearless and amazing things.  I am constantly trying to create my best possible life and, though I sometimes feel like giving up or opting for the devil I know, I keep on trying to achieve my goals. I have a keen intuition that’s perhaps been slightly damaged by my occasional insistence on IGNORING it.  And, underneath it all, I am basically an optimist who is able to dream big and see the all the possibilites out there for me and, inasmuch as I can, for those I hold dear to me!

And, so, while I sometimes (maybe often) feel insecure, I think attributing my relationship troubles to the fact that I am insecure is inaccurate, or at least just a portion of the whole story. (Also, it bears noting that I tend to be more insecure when I have been lied to or mislead, whether purposely or not- I think that’s natural.)  As I age, I can see that I likely bring more baggage into a relationship than I would have, say, at 20.  But, I also bring more insight and I am more likely to call bullshit when someone tries to make me responsible for problems that are not mine.  I’m more than willing to be honest about what I need to work on; I don’t need to take on more than that. 

Which, I guess, brings me back to my orignal point: when one is very open, she needs to be wary of how she is perceived, overall.  After all, maybe appearance really is everything, but- if so- I hate it.  I want to get down to the truth and mostly the truth isn’t so superficial.  Right?

Eh… when I started writing this, I had a clear idea of what I wanted to say.  Now that I’ve gotten this far, I see that I’m starting to ramble.  I think that means I’m operating partially out of hurt feelings and defensiveness.  Which doesn’t mean that what I’ve written is not true, just that… like almost everything else, it is only part of the story.

Ah, well… blah, blah, blog. 

Have a good one, everybody!

I don’t want to do this, but I think I might have to: that is, blog using bullets.  I can’t help it, I’m stuck and need… to… pull… myself… up… out… of… this……. RUT!

To that end, I:

• Have decided not to pursue roller derby career; see more in the Mommyhood tomorrow.
• Am 41.
• Loved Moneyball.
• Am trying to attain sobriety.
• Also, slenderness. (Those are related, but only incidentally.)
• Can’t seem to form coherent sentences, yet am compelled to try.
• Went to Florida.
• Sort of wanted to move there.
• Am practicing gratitude more.
• Want to write every day.
• Am still alive.  And 41.  Yay!

Ah, so we come to this then- it’s sadness that makes me blog.  Or, at least, it seems to be sadness that brings me back to the blog once I’ve been away for a while.  And, so here I am, again.

The slow, sad end of my relationship has finally (hopefully) reached its nadir and I don’t know what to do with myself.  I muddled through the weekend, cheered slightly by a visit from my mom and a day with my best friend.  I was constantly on the verge of crying, but I was mostly able to stave it off.  Now, it’s Monday at 3:50 pm and… well, nothing’s going on to distract me from thinking about how he didn’t call, didn’t email, didn’t care.

Eh.  As I said on the Facebooks, I hate sadness.

I’ve turned my back on you, little blog. 

I miss you.

I'm too sexy for my socks, too sexy for my socks, so sexy...

I guess I’ve almost totally dropped the ball, blog-wise.  I think I’ve left a million little threads out there, hanging.  The singing, the big reveal of my new hobby, the boyfriend… I’m the master of starting to write about things and then quitting midway.  Or, actually maybe it’s not just the “writing” that starts and stops abruptly- it’s also the doing.

I still have to figure out the specs for the singing.  My friend, D. is going to record it, but he’s been super-busy until just this week.  Also, I still need to get a flag.  And some back-up musicians.  It may take a bit longer to get it together, but it’ll be brilliant when it all comes together!

The other thing I’ve been doing, that I alluded to a couple of weeks ago, is- of course- roller derby.  I’m becoming a roller girl!  I love it so much, but am afraid of it at the same time.  Not because of injury, although even as I type this I have a huge bruise on my inner thigh.  Rather, I think I might be afraid of anything that makes me feel as independent as roller derby makes me feel.  I know that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; I’ll post more about it just as soon as I figure out what I mean by it.  Anyway, I missed the skills test last night, which means I can’t be official until the beginning of August.  I’m pretty sad about it, actually.  I should’ve gone.

As for the boyfriend… well, we didn’t end up breaking up, after all.  And that’s all I have to say about that.

Ugh.  I hate when I get in a funk about blogging.  Or, maybe it’s not even being in a funk about blogging as it is letting my life spin out of control.  I’m talking about: not getting enough sleep, overscheduling myself, not putting first things first, etc.  The overscheduling part is hard to avoid; the kids are at camp this week and I’m busy, but when they are here- forget about it- TOTAL business.

So… yet again, I’m taking baby steps to get back to blogging.  I think I’ll start with morning pages (and by talking to a certain someone about the morning sitting).  And by, hopefully, getting to bed at a decent hour tonight.

Wow… it’s been well over a week since I posted.  I need to get on the ball with this regular blogging business.  If anyone is reading this who remembers my promise to sing on the capitol steps: don’t worry, I’m going to make good on it!  I just want to make it extra-special for you, so I need a little more time.

I’ve really got to figure out how to pare down in terms of my schedule.  I want to start something new tonight, but I’m afraid that if I add another activity, I’ll never get around to writing.  BUT, if I were to start this new thing… this top-secret, so-awesome-you-won’t-believe-it thing… well, let’s just say that I’d have a goldmine of blogging material.

I’m not going to spill the beans yet as to what this new enterprise is, exactly, but I will give you three hints:

1. You might start hearing me refer to myself as Three Mile Ireland
2. I might start buying fishnets and ibuprofin in bulk; and
3. I will probably become totally badass

Any guesses?  I hope to post pics tonight that will answer any and all questions.

Huge hands, huge... generosity

Alright, so, it’s day 1 million of the longest break-up on record. I swear if you just bear with me, I’ll be back to my only mildy Debbie Downer-esque self before long.

Actually, this isn’t really a downer post. I mean, it’s terribly sad when two people who are in love can’t make it work. Or, at least, I think it’s terribly sad. But, I bet it happens a lot; think about all the things that can keep people apart: bad timing, different religions, different politics, forbidden relationships, different goals- whatever.

If anything, though, I should be grateful that I am willing to stand up for what I want instead of just collapsing into the arms of the man I love and forgetting myself. Maybe he’s actually taught me how to do that a little bit. Maybe- by standing up for what he wants, he’s shown me that I can do the same.

Really, that’s what I want to talk about.  The number 1 thing this man has taught me… no- given me.  And that is the gift of acceptance. 

My boyfriend, soon to be ex (even though I can’t stand it), has consistently accepted me for who I am.  Without judgment or recrimination.  And that’s something I’ve never really experienced before.

So, you know, I just wanted to say it out loud.  That I realize it and appreciate how generous a gift that is.

I meant to write more- about what acceptance means and all that.  But, I can’t.  The gratitude is all I can get out; I hope that’s enough for now.