I've been going through a super organization-craze at work lately. Couldn't figure out what lead me to start one project that then blossomed into a HUGE, ARE YOU CRAZY FOR EVER STARTING THIS project! I figure when it's finally done, at least life at work will be easier.
But on the drive home, I realized....ever since Hubby lost his job I've put EVERYTHING on hold at the house. I've quit making lists, quit organizing, quit planning for the next project and, at this point, almost quit hoping and dreaming...the reality is that nothing has been done (outside of the basics) since "that" day.
Apparently, my mind couldn't take this idleness anymore and decided to "nest" at work instead.
The reality is, at this point - despite my moaning about going, I'd much rather be at work (sans the people and the phones) than at home. It's easier. And if I could just get rid of the people and the phones, it would be quieter.
At work, there is no pressure. I know why I'm there and what I should be doing.
At home? Not so much. At home there are subtle pressures. Don't talk about this, tiptoe around that, is that REALLY a necessary purchase? Should we do this or that? Is it time for an oil change AGAIN? Do you think we could wait for a couple more thousand miles?
I know I shouldn't be complaining because there are folks in much more dire straits than we are; people who are dealing with losses much bigger.
But, as we ease into the fourteenth month of unemployment, despair is beginning to seep in - I'm finding it harder and harder to look for the silver lining. And then I think....if I'm feeling like this - what must HE be feeling?
And then, I start to notice that Man-Child is beginning to freak out over *every little thing* and my heart breaks. Because he shouldn't be having to worry about the things he is worrying about.
We've tried hard to walk a fine line - preaching economics while not worrying him - apparently, we failed.
According to all reports I've read - North Carolina is lagging when it comes to the "Recovery" (which is a joke - I've seen no signs of a REAL recovery) and that if we were to just up and move Hubby could find something "lickety-split" (yeah, right). The thing is, even IF he could find something somewhere else - would it be at a salary that would warrant me leaving my job? No. I am lucky. I know I am. I work for a great company with great benefits. To leave this job would be suicide. Can I find Hubby a job at my company? No. Against policy to have spouses working here - even if they are in two different locations that never coincide with one another.
Besides, Man-Child is starting his Senior year. Really? It would be HUGELY detrimental to pull him out of his school now.
So no, moving, at this point, is not an option.
The point of all this? There isn't one. I just needed an outlet. Usually, I try to stay away from the doom and gloom, but today? Today, I needed to vent.
And a ray of sunshine - if you have that, feel free to comment. I need something to brighten my day. As an alternative, if you happen to know the lottery numbers for tonight......feel free to share.
As a footnote - when I started this blog, it was an experiment. A way to just get all of "it" out of my system. As blogs will do, it found people. And as people came, I found that I began to censor myself even more than when I was starting out - even though this is an anonymous blog. Why? Because I began to get to know you all - I began to see the issues that some of you face - many of which are FAR bigger than mine. And then? Then, I began to feel selfish if I whined or complained too much. So, for tonight, let me whine and complain. No comments are necessary. I know that for the majority of you, your thoughts and prayers are with us - I just really, really needed to get these thoughts out somehow....
AND? The fact that I am rationalizing and agonizing over hitting "publish" for a post on a blog - which is, arguably, supposed to be about me and what I am thinking/feeling.....well, that just shows you the depth of my insanity. Hmmm, am now thinking, I should just probably stop typing....I feel like the more I say, the crazier I sound. Anyway, thank you for listening! xo
June 29, 2011
June 27, 2011
My tongue STILL hurts from biting it so hard.
Okay, I may be tired of being a grown up.....but I AM a grown up (or, at least, put on a good imitation of one; occasionally....) and a DAMN good friend.
Why?
Because I just let a man into my house that I swore would NEVER darken my door again. NEVER. As far as I am concerned, he is dead to me.
Why yes, I HAVE been known to hold a grudge - why do you ask?
This is the man I told you about a while ago. Yes, click over and see what he did to put me in a state, I'll wait.
Are you back? Are you sufficiently outraged?
Good, then we are on the same page.
Apparently, Mr. X is back in town to "visit with his children that he loves SO very much." And while he's here has agreed to sign some papers to let his (hopefully, soon to be EX) wife have power of attorney over a few things - including the house; which she is STILL trying to save without any financial support from him; all of which require being witnessed by a notary.
I am a notary (one of the many "perks" of working in a legal department).
She asked me to notarize a few papers while he was here. Bless her, for most of the papers, she took him to a local bank and paid to have them notarized - thus, saving me from the agony of restraining myself for any length of time in his presence.
But there were a few that involved other people whose schedules weren't that flexible and needed to be done after hours.
So for her, my dear friend, I welcomed most of them in and took care of business.
I'm sure I'll hear about how "frosty" I was later - but, in my mind? He's lucky he walked out of here alive, much less without having his ears blistered from the things I wanted to say.
Lesson learned? You will do just about anything for a good friend. Another lesson learned? If you are a notary - keep it to yourself.
Why?
Because I just let a man into my house that I swore would NEVER darken my door again. NEVER. As far as I am concerned, he is dead to me.
Why yes, I HAVE been known to hold a grudge - why do you ask?
This is the man I told you about a while ago. Yes, click over and see what he did to put me in a state, I'll wait.
Are you back? Are you sufficiently outraged?
Good, then we are on the same page.
Apparently, Mr. X is back in town to "visit with his children that he loves SO very much." And while he's here has agreed to sign some papers to let his (hopefully, soon to be EX) wife have power of attorney over a few things - including the house; which she is STILL trying to save without any financial support from him; all of which require being witnessed by a notary.
I am a notary (one of the many "perks" of working in a legal department).
She asked me to notarize a few papers while he was here. Bless her, for most of the papers, she took him to a local bank and paid to have them notarized - thus, saving me from the agony of restraining myself for any length of time in his presence.
But there were a few that involved other people whose schedules weren't that flexible and needed to be done after hours.
So for her, my dear friend, I welcomed most of them in and took care of business.
I'm sure I'll hear about how "frosty" I was later - but, in my mind? He's lucky he walked out of here alive, much less without having his ears blistered from the things I wanted to say.
Lesson learned? You will do just about anything for a good friend. Another lesson learned? If you are a notary - keep it to yourself.
June 24, 2011
Now you see why I never tell you anything important-it takes too much time and energy
You know, every once in a while I want to tell you about some of the family drama going on (no, not my immediate, little family; they are always fair game - but stuff that goes on in the bigger family) and then I think, "But if I tell them this then I'll have to explain that and that and that and that and THAT." And so on and so on and so on.....
And then I get tired and decide to leave well enough alone. Because as one friend once said to me - "Wait. Let me write this all down so I can get it straight" as I was trying to explain a particularly difficult and complex situation.
Yup, that's me. The one with a majorly dysfunctional family. As the same friend also mentioned - if I ever get it all down onto paper I will have a major best-seller and/or soap opera on my hands. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't remember a majority of it and, since I neglected to actually keep a record of it all, it's mostly gone.
At any rate, my father has to have a bypass. I got the news on Saturday. Yup, the day before Father's Day. Fun. THAT makes for lighthearted conversation on Father's Day - let me tell you.
He, of course, acts like it's no big deal and he will be home in two days.
Yes, with the miracles of modern medicine, a bypass probably isn't that big of a deal anymore, especially considering that MD Anderson is right there and it's totally possible he will be home in two days....but the thing is...he isn't going to his home. And, it's MY Dad and not just a statistic.
Apparently, his wife (who has a very severe lung disease and needs to be on oxygen treatments constantly) has kicked him out.
He, of course, acts like this isn't a big deal either. I mean really? At the age of 70 or so - who HAS this kind of drama?? I'm thinking if I hit my 70's, my life better pretty darn routine without any hiccups like that coming along out of nowhere.
From what I've been told - which is precious little - he is staying with his daughter and son-law. And, according to him (and the daughter in-law) she is in a snit and because she isn't getting enough oxygen to her brain is a tad unreasonable right now and has reached a point where she can't care for him anymore; which is funny because I thought he was caring for her at this point.
And, of course, no one bothered to tell me any of this while it was happening. No, they wait until I call my dad (at his house) to wish him a happy birthday a month or so ago. Whereupon I am informed that he no longer lives there and will NEVER live there again. Another fun conversation.
Anyway, back to the present. Dad acts like everything is fine - the bypass is no big deal - and to not even think about trying to come. THEN my son gets a message from the daughter in-law on FaceBook. Since he isn't as locked down as I am, he was the only one she was able to find.
She is asking him to see if there is any way I CAN come.
Apparently, the week of the surgery coincides with their son's wedding. And, if I can't come, can I contact my brother (who fell of the face of the earth - at least when it comes to me - when my mother died 12 years ago-see why this gets complicated?) and see if he can help. Because, apparently, even though he lives "down the road a piece" (Texas-speak for about 15-20 minutes away) no one can seem to reach him.
This, of course, throws me into a total panic. Because, with our situation at the moment, there is no way in hell that I can get to Texas and just how in the hell am I supposed to contact my brother (who, according to Dad - the only person with any contact with him AT ALL - has moved and his phone has been disconnected)?
I turn to the all-mighty power that is the Internet. Namely, FaceBook. Despite the fact that his name is a very common one, I am able to run him down fairly quickly. I sent him a private message and waited.
I finally got a response that he would "take care of it" (but really?? Can I trust him to "take care of it"? I've trusted him to do so before with miserable results). So we shall see. Maybe age has graced him with some responsibility....which somehow, I doubt.
Now to the reason for this post. FaceBook continues to irritate me. Yes, yes....it has supposedly helped in an emergency-situation but do you know what I read on long lost brother's page?
"Just got a message from my sister I haven't talked to in 12 years...."
And tell me, brother-dear, just WHOSE fault is it that we haven't talked in 12 years???!!!! I know, I know. I shouldn't jump the gun. But I HAVE left the door open. I have sent him a Christmas card every damn year - WITH our current address and everything. Sometimes I even include phone numbers and email addresses. Never a word. In fact, it turns out that the address I was sending the cards to WASN'T EVEN HIS! It was our cousin's though - so, at least the card was getting passed on. But he couldn't even be bothered to tell me what his correct address might be.
The only news I get about him is from Dad - who would hear from him once in a blue moon. And, in fact, the last time I was home, he KNEW I was there but never once came by - despite the fact that he lived "down the road a piece." In fact, from what Dad was telling me, he saw my brother MAYBE once a year, if that. The man has distanced himself from his whole family.
But despite the urge, I didn't say a word about it. I kept it civil. I gave him my email and cell number and told him to keep me updated. Will that happen? We shall see.
And this is why you only get bits and pieces. Because if I had to go into this much detail (still leaving out major bits, I know) just to tell you my dad needs surgery, can you only imagine what it must be like to be living it? And there's the fact that it took me a week to compose this post (a WEEK! It never takes this long!). Now? Now, I'm exhausted. And I need a drink. *sigh*
And then I get tired and decide to leave well enough alone. Because as one friend once said to me - "Wait. Let me write this all down so I can get it straight" as I was trying to explain a particularly difficult and complex situation.
Yup, that's me. The one with a majorly dysfunctional family. As the same friend also mentioned - if I ever get it all down onto paper I will have a major best-seller and/or soap opera on my hands. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't remember a majority of it and, since I neglected to actually keep a record of it all, it's mostly gone.
At any rate, my father has to have a bypass. I got the news on Saturday. Yup, the day before Father's Day. Fun. THAT makes for lighthearted conversation on Father's Day - let me tell you.
He, of course, acts like it's no big deal and he will be home in two days.
Yes, with the miracles of modern medicine, a bypass probably isn't that big of a deal anymore, especially considering that MD Anderson is right there and it's totally possible he will be home in two days....but the thing is...he isn't going to his home. And, it's MY Dad and not just a statistic.
Apparently, his wife (who has a very severe lung disease and needs to be on oxygen treatments constantly) has kicked him out.
He, of course, acts like this isn't a big deal either. I mean really? At the age of 70 or so - who HAS this kind of drama?? I'm thinking if I hit my 70's, my life better pretty darn routine without any hiccups like that coming along out of nowhere.
From what I've been told - which is precious little - he is staying with his daughter and son-law. And, according to him (and the daughter in-law) she is in a snit and because she isn't getting enough oxygen to her brain is a tad unreasonable right now and has reached a point where she can't care for him anymore; which is funny because I thought he was caring for her at this point.
And, of course, no one bothered to tell me any of this while it was happening. No, they wait until I call my dad (at his house) to wish him a happy birthday a month or so ago. Whereupon I am informed that he no longer lives there and will NEVER live there again. Another fun conversation.
Anyway, back to the present. Dad acts like everything is fine - the bypass is no big deal - and to not even think about trying to come. THEN my son gets a message from the daughter in-law on FaceBook. Since he isn't as locked down as I am, he was the only one she was able to find.
She is asking him to see if there is any way I CAN come.
Apparently, the week of the surgery coincides with their son's wedding. And, if I can't come, can I contact my brother (who fell of the face of the earth - at least when it comes to me - when my mother died 12 years ago-see why this gets complicated?) and see if he can help. Because, apparently, even though he lives "down the road a piece" (Texas-speak for about 15-20 minutes away) no one can seem to reach him.
This, of course, throws me into a total panic. Because, with our situation at the moment, there is no way in hell that I can get to Texas and just how in the hell am I supposed to contact my brother (who, according to Dad - the only person with any contact with him AT ALL - has moved and his phone has been disconnected)?
I turn to the all-mighty power that is the Internet. Namely, FaceBook. Despite the fact that his name is a very common one, I am able to run him down fairly quickly. I sent him a private message and waited.
I finally got a response that he would "take care of it" (but really?? Can I trust him to "take care of it"? I've trusted him to do so before with miserable results). So we shall see. Maybe age has graced him with some responsibility....which somehow, I doubt.
Now to the reason for this post. FaceBook continues to irritate me. Yes, yes....it has supposedly helped in an emergency-situation but do you know what I read on long lost brother's page?
"Just got a message from my sister I haven't talked to in 12 years...."
And tell me, brother-dear, just WHOSE fault is it that we haven't talked in 12 years???!!!! I know, I know. I shouldn't jump the gun. But I HAVE left the door open. I have sent him a Christmas card every damn year - WITH our current address and everything. Sometimes I even include phone numbers and email addresses. Never a word. In fact, it turns out that the address I was sending the cards to WASN'T EVEN HIS! It was our cousin's though - so, at least the card was getting passed on. But he couldn't even be bothered to tell me what his correct address might be.
The only news I get about him is from Dad - who would hear from him once in a blue moon. And, in fact, the last time I was home, he KNEW I was there but never once came by - despite the fact that he lived "down the road a piece." In fact, from what Dad was telling me, he saw my brother MAYBE once a year, if that. The man has distanced himself from his whole family.
But despite the urge, I didn't say a word about it. I kept it civil. I gave him my email and cell number and told him to keep me updated. Will that happen? We shall see.
And this is why you only get bits and pieces. Because if I had to go into this much detail (still leaving out major bits, I know) just to tell you my dad needs surgery, can you only imagine what it must be like to be living it? And there's the fact that it took me a week to compose this post (a WEEK! It never takes this long!). Now? Now, I'm exhausted. And I need a drink. *sigh*
June 20, 2011
I'm tired of being a grown-up.....
I'm ready to go back to being a kid again.
I'm tired of worrying and stewing over money, jobs (or lack thereof), the child, the child's driving, his social life, his school, his mental health, and his regular health.
I'm tired of worrying about Hubby, his health, his state of mind, and why he isn't sleeping.
I'm tired of worrying about friends, their kids, and all of their well-being.
I'm tired of laundry (oh my God; AM I sick of laundry!), dusting, mopping, vacuuming, cleaning toilets, putting the toilet paper on the roll (this, apparently, is a job for only the highly skilled).
I'm tired of pushing the couch, the chair, the table and the trash can back into their proper places. I'm tired of wondering just WHY does Hubby move them in the first place??
In the same vein, I'm also tired of putting knick-knacks, books, papers, etc. back to where they belong. WHY does he feel the need to move them all the time anyway?! (Seriously, I need an answer to this one)
I'm tired of worrying about the health and well-being of family that is too far away for me to be of any assistance. I'm tired of thinking about the fact that I have family old enough (and far away enough) for me to be worrying about.
I'm tired of picking up glasses and plates left in random places, of trash that can never seem to make it into the trash can (which has been moved AGAIN, dammit!) in the first place.
I'm tired of alarm clocks and getting up at a ridiculously early time. I'm tired of putting on the happy face for work people - even though some of them REALLY deserve to see the mean face.
I'm tired of looking at my calendar and having nothing to really look forward to - except for dental visits, mammograms, yearly physicals and eye exams.
I'm ready to go back to looking forward to summer vacations, where there were no major expectations or worries. Of spending days upon days playing, reading, day-dreaming and just goofing off. Days where I didn't have to worry about anything larger than getting my chores (or homework, if school was in session) done. Days spent just hanging out with friends. Eating what I wanted, when I wanted, and not worrying about calories or cholesterol.
Days dreaming about the day I'd become the adult and I could do whatever I wanted.
When nobody could tell me what to do, or how to do it, because *I* would be an ADULT.....
Apparently, that day has come. And I don't like it. Not one little bit.
I'm tired of worrying and stewing over money, jobs (or lack thereof), the child, the child's driving, his social life, his school, his mental health, and his regular health.
I'm tired of worrying about Hubby, his health, his state of mind, and why he isn't sleeping.
I'm tired of worrying about friends, their kids, and all of their well-being.
I'm tired of laundry (oh my God; AM I sick of laundry!), dusting, mopping, vacuuming, cleaning toilets, putting the toilet paper on the roll (this, apparently, is a job for only the highly skilled).
I'm tired of pushing the couch, the chair, the table and the trash can back into their proper places. I'm tired of wondering just WHY does Hubby move them in the first place??
In the same vein, I'm also tired of putting knick-knacks, books, papers, etc. back to where they belong. WHY does he feel the need to move them all the time anyway?! (Seriously, I need an answer to this one)
I'm tired of worrying about the health and well-being of family that is too far away for me to be of any assistance. I'm tired of thinking about the fact that I have family old enough (and far away enough) for me to be worrying about.
I'm tired of picking up glasses and plates left in random places, of trash that can never seem to make it into the trash can (which has been moved AGAIN, dammit!) in the first place.
I'm tired of alarm clocks and getting up at a ridiculously early time. I'm tired of putting on the happy face for work people - even though some of them REALLY deserve to see the mean face.
I'm tired of looking at my calendar and having nothing to really look forward to - except for dental visits, mammograms, yearly physicals and eye exams.
I'm ready to go back to looking forward to summer vacations, where there were no major expectations or worries. Of spending days upon days playing, reading, day-dreaming and just goofing off. Days where I didn't have to worry about anything larger than getting my chores (or homework, if school was in session) done. Days spent just hanging out with friends. Eating what I wanted, when I wanted, and not worrying about calories or cholesterol.
Days dreaming about the day I'd become the adult and I could do whatever I wanted.
When nobody could tell me what to do, or how to do it, because *I* would be an ADULT.....
Apparently, that day has come. And I don't like it. Not one little bit.
June 12, 2011
Dear God - it's only 7:45 pm?????? He's lucky I like him.....
Why yes, that is early....even for me.
But let me tell you; last night was a bear! An absolute bear!
I went to bed early-ish. Around 9:30 pm or so - simply because I couldn't take any more of the heat, the humanity or pretty much of anything.
(I've been in a mood; can you tell? And here I'd thought I'd been hiding it pretty well....)
The problem with going to bed early-ish (oh, all right!! EARLY - in "normal people" time) is that you tend to wake earlier.
Normally, this isn't a problem as I usually get up early, early during the week (when do you think I spend most of my time reading your blogs?). But on the weekends, I try to stay up later in order to sleep in a bit. Not as much as I used to, admittedly, but a bit.
At any rate....I couldn't take anymore so I put myself to bed. Once snuggled in, I fell right to sleep. To sleep the sleep of the innocent.
When all of a sudden - out of nowhere, I tell you! - I was woken up (at 2:30 am) when Hubby came lumbering his way to bed. After waking himself from his "nap" on the couch.
Now this, you should be told, is normal. We do this dance often. He falls asleep on the couch for a "nap" and I head to bed (believe me, I've tried waking him up - it does no good). He wakes up and spends some time watching television and then he comes to bed, I sleep through it. No big deal.
But last night? Oh My God!
I guess because I had already slept the Mom-Requisite 3 hours or more, he woke me up. Fine, whatever. Shut up and go to sleep.
Except this time he fell asleep first. This is a definite NO-NO in this house. If he falls asleep first then I am DOOMED. Because he snores. He snores like he is putting on a performance.
If I'm already asleep this does not bother me - because, as it has been well-documented in the past, I can literally sleep through a hurricane without blinking an eye.
But if I'm not asleep first then every breath, sigh, twitch or muscle-tic of his feels like a tsunami is occurring on my side of the bed and I cannot, for love of mother or country, fall back asleep; which makes me a *tad* witchy (for lack of a better word....).
Then he begins to snore. I cannot begin to describe the sounds that were emanating from that man - but be sure, they were not human.
I tried the usual....kicking him and telling him to roll over. Nothing.
I tried the next level....punching him in the arm and telling him to roll over. Nothing.
I tried the extreme level.....threatening to smother (and stab) him (this usually works wonders on his subconscious). Nothing.
After two hours of this hell, I decided it was either him or me......
Guess who ended up sleeping on the couch (and who could *still* hear him? Behind a closed door and down a flight of stairs?) and waking up far earlier than she intended?
Guess who is also struggling to stay awake for it to get late enough for her to go to bed - while giving HIM the evil eye as he slumbers away on the couch? Guess who is also having murderous thoughts right about now?
He's lucky I like him.
But let me tell you; last night was a bear! An absolute bear!
I went to bed early-ish. Around 9:30 pm or so - simply because I couldn't take any more of the heat, the humanity or pretty much of anything.
(I've been in a mood; can you tell? And here I'd thought I'd been hiding it pretty well....)
The problem with going to bed early-ish (oh, all right!! EARLY - in "normal people" time) is that you tend to wake earlier.
Normally, this isn't a problem as I usually get up early, early during the week (when do you think I spend most of my time reading your blogs?). But on the weekends, I try to stay up later in order to sleep in a bit. Not as much as I used to, admittedly, but a bit.
At any rate....I couldn't take anymore so I put myself to bed. Once snuggled in, I fell right to sleep. To sleep the sleep of the innocent.
When all of a sudden - out of nowhere, I tell you! - I was woken up (at 2:30 am) when Hubby came lumbering his way to bed. After waking himself from his "nap" on the couch.
Now this, you should be told, is normal. We do this dance often. He falls asleep on the couch for a "nap" and I head to bed (believe me, I've tried waking him up - it does no good). He wakes up and spends some time watching television and then he comes to bed, I sleep through it. No big deal.
But last night? Oh My God!
I guess because I had already slept the Mom-Requisite 3 hours or more, he woke me up. Fine, whatever. Shut up and go to sleep.
Except this time he fell asleep first. This is a definite NO-NO in this house. If he falls asleep first then I am DOOMED. Because he snores. He snores like he is putting on a performance.
If I'm already asleep this does not bother me - because, as it has been well-documented in the past, I can literally sleep through a hurricane without blinking an eye.
But if I'm not asleep first then every breath, sigh, twitch or muscle-tic of his feels like a tsunami is occurring on my side of the bed and I cannot, for love of mother or country, fall back asleep; which makes me a *tad* witchy (for lack of a better word....).
Then he begins to snore. I cannot begin to describe the sounds that were emanating from that man - but be sure, they were not human.
I tried the usual....kicking him and telling him to roll over. Nothing.
I tried the next level....punching him in the arm and telling him to roll over. Nothing.
I tried the extreme level.....threatening to smother (and stab) him (this usually works wonders on his subconscious). Nothing.
After two hours of this hell, I decided it was either him or me......
Guess who ended up sleeping on the couch (and who could *still* hear him? Behind a closed door and down a flight of stairs?) and waking up far earlier than she intended?
Guess who is also struggling to stay awake for it to get late enough for her to go to bed - while giving HIM the evil eye as he slumbers away on the couch? Guess who is also having murderous thoughts right about now?
He's lucky I like him.
June 11, 2011
Friendship is a two-way street
We were tight. And when I say "tight" I mean "tight!"
We met at the office - lo, these many years ago. Turned out we lived in the same neighborhood; we had much in common. A friendship was born.
The kind where we talked on the phone every day - even though we saw each other at the office daily. The kind where we just dropped in (nearly every day) at each other's houses and who cared if one or the other was in their pajamas. The kind where even my mother was jealous of our friendship because she feared this woman was taking her place as mother/grandmother (what can I say - my mom had issues).
We were TIGHT.
When she decided to move to North Carolina to be with her son and his new family, I was heart-broken; but I understood - she wanted to be a "hands on" grandmother. When the opportunity arose for us to move to the East Coast, I lobbied hard for North Carolina. Hubby agreed that NC was as good a spot as any since it was the half-way point between his family in New York and Florida (not that anyone ever stops here.....) and the climate was (supposedly) temperate.
I informed him that I didn't mind up-rooting myself and moving half-way across the country for him but I was damned if I was going to start over in a place where I didn't know a soul.
So, of course, we ended up here. With my friend.
It was wonderful - we spent much time together. Pretty much every day. And the daily phone calls resumed. She was a fixture in Man-Child's life.
Then?
Then she met someone. I was happy for her. Ecstatic, even. He was a great guy - there was some baggage involved (isn't there always?), but still. He was good for her.
But we noticed she began drifting away. She wasn't as much a part of our lives anymore. Man-Child complained. I complained to Hubby. He agreed. She was beginning to live her life in his back pocket (not at his demand, I might add).
It was like she had turned into a high school girl all over again. Girl meets guy. Girl falls in love with guy. Girl dumps all her friends for guy.
We figured this stage would pass. Because surely, they were mature adults, and sooner or later they'd get sick of each other's constant company.
Eventually, he asks her to marry him. She said yes. We were ecstatic for her - he's such a great guy. We loved him.
In the meantime, nothing changes. She is still in his back pocket. Nothing can convince her that she should get out - spend time with friends. She's immersed in her new life.
With a heavy heart, I admit defeat. I move on with my life. Making new friends and carrying on; but still reserving a special place for her (and her new family) in my heart - because, in my mind, she is family.
Fast forward thirteen years later.....and this is what I see on FaceBook?
We met at the office - lo, these many years ago. Turned out we lived in the same neighborhood; we had much in common. A friendship was born.
The kind where we talked on the phone every day - even though we saw each other at the office daily. The kind where we just dropped in (nearly every day) at each other's houses and who cared if one or the other was in their pajamas. The kind where even my mother was jealous of our friendship because she feared this woman was taking her place as mother/grandmother (what can I say - my mom had issues).
We were TIGHT.
When she decided to move to North Carolina to be with her son and his new family, I was heart-broken; but I understood - she wanted to be a "hands on" grandmother. When the opportunity arose for us to move to the East Coast, I lobbied hard for North Carolina. Hubby agreed that NC was as good a spot as any since it was the half-way point between his family in New York and Florida (not that anyone ever stops here.....) and the climate was (supposedly) temperate.
I informed him that I didn't mind up-rooting myself and moving half-way across the country for him but I was damned if I was going to start over in a place where I didn't know a soul.
So, of course, we ended up here. With my friend.
It was wonderful - we spent much time together. Pretty much every day. And the daily phone calls resumed. She was a fixture in Man-Child's life.
Then?
Then she met someone. I was happy for her. Ecstatic, even. He was a great guy - there was some baggage involved (isn't there always?), but still. He was good for her.
But we noticed she began drifting away. She wasn't as much a part of our lives anymore. Man-Child complained. I complained to Hubby. He agreed. She was beginning to live her life in his back pocket (not at his demand, I might add).
It was like she had turned into a high school girl all over again. Girl meets guy. Girl falls in love with guy. Girl dumps all her friends for guy.
We figured this stage would pass. Because surely, they were mature adults, and sooner or later they'd get sick of each other's constant company.
Eventually, he asks her to marry him. She said yes. We were ecstatic for her - he's such a great guy. We loved him.
In the meantime, nothing changes. She is still in his back pocket. Nothing can convince her that she should get out - spend time with friends. She's immersed in her new life.
With a heavy heart, I admit defeat. I move on with my life. Making new friends and carrying on; but still reserving a special place for her (and her new family) in my heart - because, in my mind, she is family.
Fast forward thirteen years later.....and this is what I see on FaceBook?
Why would I presume to think this might be directed at me? Maybe because the morning after this post, she called me just to "chat". I hadn't heard from her since I don't know when. I hadn't seen her, despite the fact that she only lives five minutes up the road.
Now, after all this time, I'm the bad guy? Seriously?!
In the past thirteen years, I have left my heart open and kept the friendship on the table. If she needed me, I was there - all she needed to do was let me know. She never did.
But now - it seems that because I haven't called the disinterested party as often or taken an active part in her life (because I wasn't asked to!) I'm the one that just drifted away.
Never-mind the fact that for the past thirteen years, she has forged a new life - which I did not begrudge her.
Will I let her back in? Of course. There is no question.
But am I going to be the one dropping everything and scrambling to make our friendship what it used to be? No.
I understand that she is at a point where she is looking around and realizing that something is lacking in her life and wants things to go back to the way they were (how do I know - because whatever she happens to be thinking gets posted to FaceBook; it's the only way I know anything anymore about her life). Unfortunately, they can't. We aren't the same people we used to be - our lives are vastly different now and our needs for a friendship have changed.
Am I hurt (and a little angry)? Yes. It disturbs me that she is not seeing where she was wrong in this; no, I'm not saying it's all her fault - but she's not taking any responsibility either.
Will I try to be the bigger person? Yes, but it won't be easy. And I'm still not going to be doing all the heavy lifting here - but maybe I can meet her halfway.
June 8, 2011
Yesterday I *attempted* to make you laugh.....
But today, I have a much more serious subject in mind.
As I was furtively scrolling through tweets on my phone at work (What?! You HAVE to be furtive at the Good Ole Boy Network - they frown upon EVERYTHING!) I came across this one from The Online Stylist (have you met her? If you haven't click over, she is one of the sweetest and most stylish women on the world-wide web! I promise)......
It was quiet - I had nothing to do at the moment since I was waiting on someone else so I could finish my assigned task (don't get me started. Why, yes, I have been known to procrastinate occasionally but NEVER at someone else's expense or time....) so I clicked the link.
Which took me to Alice's blog.
Alice is a 15 year old girl with terminal cancer. Her blog is about her bucket list and is meant to showcase all that she accomplishes on said list. It's heart-wrenching (even more so when you get home and read about it on the computer screen and not a phone screen the size of large thimble).
Needless to say, I was sitting in the office with tears streaming down my face for everyone to see.
While, so far, her bucket list hasn't mentioned much that I am in a position to help with there is ONE (or two) thing(s) that Alice is asking for that I think I might be able to do - and you could too - she is asking that people donate bone marrow - no matter where you live. She is also asking that people spread the word about donating.
I don't know much about the process but you can read more about it here and decide whether it is something you can do to help Alice or people in Alice's position. If nothing else, please pass the word via Facebook, Twitter (#AliceBucketList) or whatever form of social media that you prefer. Don't forget to tell your "real life" friends too.
And while you're at it - maybe send up a prayer or two.
As I was furtively scrolling through tweets on my phone at work (What?! You HAVE to be furtive at the Good Ole Boy Network - they frown upon EVERYTHING!) I came across this one from The Online Stylist (have you met her? If you haven't click over, she is one of the sweetest and most stylish women on the world-wide web! I promise)......
It was quiet - I had nothing to do at the moment since I was waiting on someone else so I could finish my assigned task (don't get me started. Why, yes, I have been known to procrastinate occasionally but NEVER at someone else's expense or time....) so I clicked the link.
Which took me to Alice's blog.
Alice is a 15 year old girl with terminal cancer. Her blog is about her bucket list and is meant to showcase all that she accomplishes on said list. It's heart-wrenching (even more so when you get home and read about it on the computer screen and not a phone screen the size of large thimble).
Needless to say, I was sitting in the office with tears streaming down my face for everyone to see.
While, so far, her bucket list hasn't mentioned much that I am in a position to help with there is ONE (or two) thing(s) that Alice is asking for that I think I might be able to do - and you could too - she is asking that people donate bone marrow - no matter where you live. She is also asking that people spread the word about donating.
I don't know much about the process but you can read more about it here and decide whether it is something you can do to help Alice or people in Alice's position. If nothing else, please pass the word via Facebook, Twitter (#AliceBucketList) or whatever form of social media that you prefer. Don't forget to tell your "real life" friends too.
And while you're at it - maybe send up a prayer or two.
June 7, 2011
Just when I was thinking about changing the blog name to Gigi's Grumblings....
Today I was cleaning up my work computer - what can I say, it was a slow day.
Apparently, I have a LOT of personal stuff on there. And since I work for Big Brother (aka Good Old Boy Network) it's not a good idea to keep personal stuff at work since they have been known to....you know....snoop.....
While doing my housekeeping I came across this oldie (but goodie) and figured I'd share....especially since my last few posts have centered around all kinds of doom and gloom and how you should NEVER let your children learn to drive and all this must surely point to the impending apocalypse (now scheduled for a new date - mark your calendars!)....
Sorry to all the guys out there but.....just so ya know it's ALL in the way you ask.
Apparently, I have a LOT of personal stuff on there. And since I work for Big Brother (aka Good Old Boy Network) it's not a good idea to keep personal stuff at work since they have been known to....you know....snoop.....
While doing my housekeeping I came across this oldie (but goodie) and figured I'd share....especially since my last few posts have centered around all kinds of doom and gloom and how you should NEVER let your children learn to drive and all this must surely point to the impending apocalypse (now scheduled for a new date - mark your calendars!)....
Sorry to all the guys out there but.....just so ya know it's ALL in the way you ask.
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