Newsflash: I was born, but I was not born yesterday

Last night my husband asked me if it was alright if he bought me a recliner for Christmas. Um...sounds like a present for him under the guise of being a present for me, especially since I've never expressed any interest in getting a recliner whereas he mentions at least once a week how he'd like one.

The sacred is in the ordinary

"The great lesson is that the sacred is in the ordinary, that it is to be found in one's daily life, in one's neighbours, friends, and family, in one's backyard." - Abraham Maslow

I was going to write about the reply I got from my daughter's teacher today but I've allowed that woman to take up too much of my time today and so I will write about that another time.

Instead, I will talk about dribbling brightly colored lights among the bushes out front. I love Christmas lights--colored, preferably, but white will do in a pinch and on a mantel decorated with my favorite Christmas things.

I found the star for the top my tree and the tree skirt so I did not have to go out and purchase new ones. The old me would rush out and buy new things without thinking, but the new me wants to live a simpler life--and what could be more simple than taking the time to find things you know you have but can't find because you have so much stuff? I could seriously open some sort of store with all the stuff I've accumulated over the course of my life. I wish I knew then what I know now--that things are just things and the only importance they hold is the importance you assign them yourself.

My son is on his way home from college and we're thinking of decorating his room with Christmas lights to welcome him. I'm so excited to see him again. It feels like years and like just yesterday that he went away...if that makes sense--long and short at the same time.

There are days when it seems the fates are conspiring to drive me crazy and I fight to keep positive. On those days I look for the little things to bring me happiness--like a strand of colored lights, or the thought of my son coming back home to us.

Productive living

My house is looking awesomely awesome. I am almost all done with the painting and I have to say that it looks like a professional came in and did the job. I even did all the baseboards and trim, which was tedious, but I'm so happy with the results. Everything is so clean and sharp. I'm so used to doing the same things day in and day out without anyone ever noticing and it was so nice to do something I felt really proud about, something I got excited about doing even though it got a little boring at times. I blared the ITUNES or listened to Rush on talk radio and time flew. I think I rock as a painter.

I got our Christmas tree today. It was small enough that I could carry it and fit it in my car (actually I got the guy at Home Depot to carry it for me), but I did drag it out of the car and into the house and put the whole thing up myself. I can't find my star or my tree skirt, so I'll have to go buy new ones tomorrow, but the tree looks good and smells spectacular. Of course it's about 60 degrees out today so the "feel" of Christmas is missing but I'm sure if I wait a few days, it'll get cold again.

I had to write another letter today...this time to one of my daughter's teachers. She is taking an elective course in "volunteering" and apparently the teacher told another class that the class my daughter is in (along with about 5 other girls) were "incompetent fools with behavioral problems." Excuse me? My daughter hasn't missed a day of school for sickness in all her high school years, gets straight A's, takes all AP and gifted courses, has played on a VARSITY tennis team since freshman year, and ranks in the top ten percent of her senior class (out of over 1,000 students) and this woman has the nerve to call her incompetent? I don't think so. I have spoken before about my disdain for public school teachers and if I had to do it again, I would have sent all my children to private schools. Public schools are all about stamping out the individuality of students in favor of mass producing cookie cutter kids. This might serve kids well in high school, but it sucks for dealing in the REAL WORLD. I tell my children to stand up for themselves and speak out for themselves and when my daughter DOES, she gets told that "things aren't up for discussion and to be quiet." Screw that. I tell her they are miserable people and when she's successful she won't have them to thank because they failed her on so many levels. Just because someone is in a position of authority over you doesn't mean you have to sit back and let them try to tear you down.

I also wrote a letter to the owner of the plumbing company who screwed me over. I let it all rip out of me because I know how I am and if I do not let someone know when I am bothered, I can't stop obsessing over it or forget about it. So I write. Once the letters go out, I feel somewhat free of the obsession. It's like I need to get it all out of me and then I can move on--at least sort of. Anyway, I'm big on writing letters/notes/emails lately. You know you've crossed the line and gotten on my bad side if you get a letter from me.

I'm off to watch Nancy Grace.

Sideline experts

Sideline experts can be found with their butts planted firmly in their chairs on the sidelines somewhere shouting advice and criticism like it's going out of style. The first time I had the "pleasure" of encountering this species, I was at a sporting event (can't remember which one at this point). Perfectly normal parents turn into people YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW when they are sitting on the sidelines. I used to sit among them and cringe or try to ignore their antics, but that proved to be of little help because sideline experts WANT TO BE HEARD. Anyway, the thing to remember about sideline experts is this: they never make a mistake or lose a game when they are sitting safely on the sidelines--they are incredibly perfect and knowledgeable while shouting their criticisms/advice out to those people ACTUALLY IN THE FIGHT DOING SOMETHING. It wasn't long before I found myself securing a spot away from the crowds when watching my children play sports. I did not care if I appeared aloof or antisocial or even snobbish because I felt any of those three descriptive terms would be preferable to being a SIDELINE EXPERT.

My husband has, on occasion, taken on the roll of a sideline expert, much to my chagrin. For as long as I have known him, on the day before Thanksgiving, he feels the need to tell me HOW TO CORRECTLY COOK A TURKEY SO THAT NONE OF US GET SICK AND DIE. It should be noted that no one has ever gotten sick from my cooking--EVER. It should also be noted that in the 26 years I've been married to him, he's NEVER COOKED A MEAL TO BE KNOWLEDGEABLE ENOUGH TO TELL ME HOW TO COOK A TURKEY. This annoys me to NO END. The first couple of times he did it, I let it pass without comment, but the last 7 years or so, I've told him to just shove it whenever he attempted giving me cooking tips on the turkey. I mean, he actually thinks I should take him seriously. It's completely insane. I told him to save that advice for himself the next time he buys a turkey and cooks it for us. Oh, and every night after we have Thanksgiving dinner he tells me that "next year we ought to just go out because it's just too much work for US!" Huh? Us? I mean, really. This is what I live with.

And now recently, I have taken on the task of painting the inside of our house. It's a big project, but there's something very calming about having a task ahead of me that takes patience. I like seeing the progress as I paint along--it makes me happy. My husband wanted to pay someone to do it but I'm confident I can paint walls with no problems. But all of the sudden, he's suddenly giving me painting tips--telling me what kind of roller I should be using, which way to paint the walls (up and down--not sideways!!), and that I need to use a drop cloth while I'm painting! Really? OMG. I never would have thought of using a drop cloth if he hadn't suggested it.

Anyway, the painting is coming along great despite my own personal sideline expert interfering at every turn.

This is what I want her to know

I think there are people that you never get over. I think if you love someone, really love someone, you give away a piece of your heart forever. And even though it's hard to learn to live without someone that you love, there's always a part of you that knows you would not have it any other way--you would not ever choose not loving someone to spare yourself a potential loss. It's hard to know what to do with the love you will always have for those people who have left your life for one reason or another. It's hard to fill the spaces left behind. It's difficult not to paint people who disappoint you in a bad light because it's natural for that sort of defense mechanism to kick in when you feel betrayed or abandoned. I think that the people you choose to love tells you a lot about yourself. I think that mostly it tells you not to spend even one second doubting your choices if your heart feels at home when you are with them--that finite time with the people that you love is better than no time at all--that love doesn't die on a schedule determined by other people, especially if your love is pure. I think there is no secret to getting over people you have loved because there are some people that you simply never get over.

All good is NO GOOD

I hate plumbers. It all started yesterday when I noticed a constant drip coming from the shower head in my bathroom. I let it go overnight and when I woke up it was dripping even faster so I decided to call a plumber (which I got from the yellow pages). I was told someone would be at my home between 2-4 PM, so I waited around all day and finally at 5:45 two clowns show up at my door and I let them in. Mind you, I had been up since 4:50 AM this morning and simply wanted to get the leak fixed. The clowns took a look at my shower and told me that it was a cartridge that needed to be replaced so they leave to purchase one at Home Depot. Before leaving, they told me they needed to check the water pressure and when they did, I was told that my water pressure valve needed to be replaced so I quickly asked how much that was going to cost and was told a little over $350. I told them I would pass on that since I didn't want to spend the money on something I didn't really KNOW needed to be replaced. I mean, I had a drip in my shower and suddenly I need a new water pressure valve on top of that? I do not trust people who create more work for themselves (at my expense).

Anyhow, the clowns were gone until about 6:25 PM. Before they left I was told it would cost me $295 which I thought was WAY overpriced but since I'm not a plumber, what could I do? When the clowns come back I asked them if this was the standard price for replacing the cartridge and was told yes. I said I did not want to be ripped off and felt that the price was too high. I then asked how much the cartridge was (since he just bought it) and he actually hesitated a couple of times and said $30 or $40 dollars. Ok. Why wouldn't he know EXACTLY what the price was if HE JUST PURCHASED IT??? So then I asked if the labor was $250 and he told me yes it was but he seemed really flustered and told me "around there" when I questioned him about this which sort of sent some red flags up flying for me. I wanted the damn leak fixed so I told him to just get moving and fix it.

About ten minutes into a job that probably should have taken a total of 10 minutes, the clowns are in my bathroom and they can't unscrew something to get the old cartridge out so they are BANGING really hard on the pipe, and pulling at the valve REALLY HARD. It was all kinds of crazy and I felt this unease that they were hacking up the job. It takes the two of them to finally loosen it to get the cartridge out to replace it. They told me it was stuck because of mineral buildup. Whatever. He replaces the cartridge then has the other clown go turn the water back on and when he does, there's a whole bunch of gushing water and he tells me to tell the clown outside to turn the water off. He then informs me that he has to CUT A HOLE IN MY BEDROOM TO SEE WHERE IT'S LEAKING INSIDE THE WALL. OMG. What can I do? The carpet is all wet now and I'm freaking out because I think I'm doing the responsible thing by hiring a plumber to fix something I know I couldn't fix myself and NOW MY CARPETS ARE SOAKED AND HE HAS TO CUT A HOLE IN MY WALL!!!!

So he cuts the hole and then tells me that I need a new water valve because when he banged so hard to get the cartridge out, he broke it. He claimed that it wasn't installed properly in the first place but I call bullshit on that. I heard what he did to get the cartridge out and I knew instinctively that he was screwing something up (and I'm not even a plumber). So he then tells me a new valve is going to cost me OVER $600 (he actually went out to his van to get me a binder of his with prices in it but I'm pretty certain that if I went to buy the valve at Home Depot it would be under $100!!!), but he called his boss and since it wasn't my fault it broke and it wasn't HIS fault it broke (because now he was using the "it wasn't installed properly in the first place" excuse) that his boss agreed to give me a "DEAL" for the price of $495!!! I nearly hit the roof but I knew that would just create another hole that would need to be fixed so I decided to sit on my bed instead. I asked him if he was going to repair the hole in my wall as well (9x11) and his response was, "NO, I'm a plumber not a drywaller!!! OMFG! Mind you, the valve was working properly until he and the his cohort banged and pulled and jostled it around and BROKE IT!!!

The clowns then leave AGAIN to get the new water valve at Home Depot. While they were gone, I called the company and started complaining about what was going on and was told someone would call me back. The two clowns return with the valve at around 7:30 PM. When I got a call back, I explained the situation and the guy asked to speak to the clowns so I gave them my phone and when the phone got passed back to me, I was told that no one was taking advantage of me but that I was getting a deal. I screamed at him that it was clear that he wasn't going to help me and I hung up on him. Immediately afterwards, one of the clown's phones rings and the phone gets passed to me and I again try to explain the ridiculousness of the situation and how now on top of everything else I have a fucking HOLE in my wall and wet carpet and that I have to pay nearly $500 for a water drip!!! He tells me that I ought to be grateful that the clowns were at my house fixing THE VALVE THEY BROKE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and didn't I think that THEY wanted to be home at 8:25 PM at night with their families?

Um...........WTFFFFFFFFFF? I told him that I had been waiting since 2 PM for them and I didn't CARE about the plumbers feelings or if they wanted to be home with their families because I WAS PAYING THEM FOR A SERVICE!!! I told that asshole I wanted his men to fix the valve and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE and he says, "wow, we're really trying to help you here, ma'am," and I tossed the phone back to one of the clowns. I handed him a check and told him to GET OUT of my house and that I wouldn't sign anything and he stood there and wouldn't leave so I signed the paper to GET HIM OUT OF MY HOUSE!!! It was around 8:30 PM at that point and I was home alone with my two daughters. I DID NOT want them in my house a moment longer what with all the manufactured problems that were taking place--I felt as though it was in my best interests to get them out of my house before SOMETHING ELSE WENT WRONG WHILE THEY WERE THERE. OMG. Now I have this hole in my wall that I will need to pay to get fixed and I have wet carpet. When I told my husband this story (he's out of town) he freaked out and told me I should have waited to let HIM fix it even though the last time I fixed the toilets that were broken he kept telling me that I should call a plumber! This is a man who can't put together Lincoln logs so WHATEVER!!!

I'm really pissed off. I hate all service people. I think they rip everyone off and don't care one bit. If I could have fixed that thing myself I would have and that's what makes me even angrier. Maybe I should take some plumbing courses and learn to rip people off while I laugh all the way to the bank.

I'm off to take a shower with my new $495 water valve job. Merry Christmas to me.

PS. Those two clowns REEKED of cigarette smoke and made my house stink so bad I had to open all the windows and spray Febreeze all around and I CAN STILL SMELL THEM!! Disgusting!

Thanksgiving

"Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds." ~Theodore Roosevelt



I go to bed at night, thanking my lucky stars for all that I've been given, and I wake up thanking my lucky stars again that I get to live another day with the people that I love.

Y'all, I am blessed!

Happy Thanksgiving to all who come here.

I count you among my blessings.

Hindsight

"This is a special container for keeping lies that you tell yourself & it doesn't let in any light or air otherwise they start to go bad & there's nothing else you can do but throw them out."~Story people


This is what I wish I knew all along---that it is ok to be wrong, that it is ok to make horrible mistakes and recover from them in time, that what you do is not who you are or who you always have to be, that people understand and forgive, that we're all just trying to do our best, that it makes life easier when we hear other people say that they do not have all the answers because it's not our place to know everything. I wish I knew all along that failing at things repeatedly didn't mean success couldn't be reached at some point if you're willing to work harder than you think you can or maybe even want to, that facing the truth about who we are is essential, even if the truth is ugly. I wish I knew that defining yourself as a victim becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy that gets you nowhere fast, that it is smarter and more rewarding to own your actions and words, that there's hope in every smile, every kindness, every decision to remain in the moment no matter how difficult those moments might be. I wish I knew the futility of chasing love and happiness, that a resilient heart can be counted on to beat you back from loss and sadness, that the secret to having it all sometimes means letting things go, and that living well comes as a direct result of living well.

Motion

I think when I'm troubled, that's it's good to keep moving. It doesn't matter much what I do as long as I do something to fill the time so that there isn't much time to brood or feel angry or sad. I allow myself small spaces of time to think about the things that are bothering me, and then I shut the door on reflection and start moving. It's important that I never get stuck, and so I never stay long enough in one place, I never sink in too deep. I just keep moving, and in moving I think I help save myself from myself.

Ice cream lifts a heavy heart

"I promise you not a moment will be lost as long as I have heart & voice to speak & we will walk again together with a thousand others & a thousand more & on & on until there is no one among us who does not know the truth: there is no future without love." Storypeople

So my heart has been a little heavy lately with all this election business. I cracked open a beer the night of the election. I cannot remember the last time I've had alcohol. I couldn't take watching it anymore so I caught up on some shows I had taped. When I finally switched back to election coverage, McCain had conceded. That's when my heart grew heavy. All that talk about hope and I couldn't find it anywhere.

The next day I was still feeling bad, and so I decided that maybe a Dairy Queen vanilla cone dipped in chocolate would aid in the mourning process. It did. I highly recommend Dairy Queen when you're feeling down. The sugar high lifted me up. I remembered that hope isn't something I should seek outside of myself--and the same goes for change. I can't control the world around me, but I can control how I react and how I go about living in the wake of disappointment. My father always told me that life is filled with disappointments and the sooner you get used to it, the better off you'll be. I've always found this to be something that is easier said than done.

Lately I've been struggling with intolerance for people who voted for Obama. I know I risk pissing people off but if I click onto one more blog that mentions HOPE with regards to Obama, I feel I might explode. I'm not really the intolerant type so I don't know what's come over me. I think if I could read some specifics as to why he is such a game changer (for the positive) I might feel less angry. I'm getting worked up all over again. I think it's time for another DQ run...

That mum up above? A couple of years ago I bought a tiny mum at Walmart and planted it in the ground and every year it comes back bigger and bigger. It's the highlight of my fall, watching that mum come back to life and bloom so beautifully. I feel so proud of it even though I don't do a thing to help it grow except watch it, anticipating it's loveliness.

My sister sent me a card last week, and when I opened it up a photo tumbled out. It was a picture of her and me when we were 6 and 8 years old. We wore matching coats. Our hair was cut very short and on top of our heads we had big bows. We looked so innocent and precious and even though I do not remember standing beside her the day that picture was taken, I know without question that we were happy.

In a nutshell

"Don't speak unless you can improve on the silence." ~Spanish Proverb

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. I wasn't always so quick to speak my mind. I grew up in a household where we were told that children should be seen and not heard and I took that to heart. It became how I lived my life--listening quietly and never daring to disagree. I think that is why I'm so insistent about saying the things I feel now. Thoughts and words were unspoken inside me, and it felt like I was living in a trap, like I was suffocating without anything or anyone blocking my airways. Now I can't seem to stop myself. Words fly out of my mouth like water gushing from a fire hydrant, and I honestly don't care at the time if I'm being hurtful because I think it's so important that I've finally found my voice in this world and I'll be damned if anyone tries to shut me up. Nice attitude, huh?

I like to think I'm a good mother and most days, I think that's entirely true. But I've found I'm the type of mother who wants things to go smoothly so that I don't have to deal with problems. I like routines to be followed and I do not welcome disruptions of those routines. Ridiculously, all I want to hear is good news. I know that wish isn't planted anywhere in reality but still, I wish for it anyway.

I never know if my expectations of others are too high or not. I don't even know if it's fair to expect things from other people or if I should simply take what's given to me and accept it for what it is without question. I do not think it's fair of me to expect other people to live their lives with my expectations looming overhead, potentially influencing what it is they want for themselves.

Intellectually, I know that I am wrong for having those thoughts, but my heart doesn't know how to stop. I look at the people that I love and I want things from them, but I get mad if they want too much from me. It makes no sense, but in a nutshell, I think that sums up a lot of who I am--a person who spends inordinate amounts of time contradicting every single thing I say and do.

On Sunday...

I took my chair and faced the sun to watch my daughter play tennis this afternoon and now I am sitting here with the lovliest late October sunburn you've ever seen. I love where I live. I can explain it best this way--My heart beats happier here.

I've been doing lots of contemplating here lately--mostly internal stuff--like what I want from life besides what I have right here at my fingertips. I think it's middle age creeping up on me and whispering in my ear and suggesting that I need to be doing something more. The problem with me is this: I always know more about what I do not want than about what it is that I want. I keep thinking that a plan will become clear if I sit still and listen, but so far--nothing. I will be patient. I am good at waiting.

The election is consuming lots of my time. I have made it a point to try to educate myself on both candidates because I want to know everything. I have kept an open mind and have read everything I can on both of them. I worry so much about the future. Not so much for me but for the world my children will live in without me. We're fortunate in that we've made wise financial decisions (we've saved and scrimped and have lived a life with our eyes to the future), but so many people are hurting. But where do we draw a line in the sand and say--I will do my best to care for my family but I cannot take on the rest of the world as well.

I cannot condone a "spread the wealth" mentality, when the road for us to get here has been difficult and not without lots of sacrifice. I think it's easy to sit back and think we have more than enough but no one knows how we got here--what we have given up to get here--the things we did not have or did not do because we didn't have the money at the time. I hate to think that the government might step in and say--you have more than enough, so SPREAD it around. Huh? It makes me angry and sad. We outright own our home...as in paid cash for it...as in no mortgage. I don't know anyone else my age who can say that. But we got here by starting off small and by sacrificing and with lots of hard work. No one ever bailed us out. We lived within our means while dreaming of something more.

My personal opinion is that education needs to be made a priority again in all our lives. I think education is the way out of poverty but it must be taken seriously to have any real impact. Parents have to get involved again on a very HANDS ON LEVEL--like checking homework and backpacks and knowing what is going on. My daughter took the SAT's a couple of weeks ago and when she was finished, she got into the car and told me that she felt sorry for a lot of the kids who took the SAT that morning because she could tell that a lot of them did not have parents who cared for them. I asked her why and she said that MANY kids were unprepared--they did not bring their identification or their admittance ticket and most did not know that they could bring a calculator, not to mention most did not bring No. 2 pencils. These requirements were written on the ticket.

As a mother, I knew this and made sure my daughter went prepared. I consider it MY JOB to help my children succeed and I do this by knowing what is going on as much as possible. How can a parent allow their child to go to take the SAT's without pencils or a calculator? It's mindboggling to me. We must do a better job of telling our children that a good education is the way out and the way up. I know that education is not the key to success for everyone, but it makes the road easier--it gives you options and opportunities that a high school drop out will never have.

My parents always told me that God helps those who help themselves. I believe that. We shouldn't be waiting for someone to swoop in and save us. We need to save ourselves.

Letters

"Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company." ~Lord Byron

I've started writing letters to my children outlining what it is I expect from them. After using the spoken word for years with varying degrees of success, I've decided that if I put into writing what it is that I want from them and for them, then they will have something tangible to reflect back on should they need a reminder. Words tend to go in one ear and out the other. I'm hoping my letters will have a bigger impact. I know I do better when I have something concrete like directions to follow. Also, no one can claim afterwards that something hasn't been talked about if I have it in writing to prove otherwise. I think part of me is just tired of talking and talking and getting nowhere. I am hopeful that this will make a difference.

The weather has cooled down a bit and I put the screens back in our front windows so that I can create a cross breeze on wonderfully refreshing days. Not a week after I put those screens in did I receive a letter from our Homeowners about how we were breaking the covenants with our front-of-the-house-screens. Sigh. I really don't ask much from life. It's such a small thing to find happiness in having your windows open on a beautiful day but the screen police cannot have anyone be happy. I'll wait till they send me a registered letter again before I take them out because this is America and I want to open my windows when I want to open my windows. Hopefully it will be much colder by then and it won't matter. More and more I am thinking that a nice house in the mountains away from everyone might be the way to go.

So hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason

I had a happy evening out shopping with my daughter. We ran some errands at Walmart, Target, Old Navy and we also went to Blockbuster. I've been renting season one of Mad Men but have only been able to get the first disc so far because the other three continue to be out. I'm kind of bummed because they were all there last week and I figured I'd be able to get them any time but I've checked back three times now and they're always out! I would have bought the set somewhere if I had known it was going to be so hard to get. I'm anxious to get through season one because I can see season two on demand and catch up as soon as I'm finished with the first one. I guess I have to be patient at this point.

It was a beautiful day here today. I've got all the windows open and I have a fan blowing the cool air in and it feels so good. The other night I was at the airport waiting for my husband to get home from a flight that was delayed a number of times due to the weather and I noticed how I was about the only one sitting there in shorts and a t-shirt...how when people were coming off their planes, most of them had coats on and scarves and I had to remind myself that it's October now and probably pretty chilly in a lot of places even though most days are still very warm here. I don't like the cold much anymore now that I live in the south. I would just rather be hot than cold for some reason. I'm not sure why.

I've been writing here for over a year now and I'm happy I've been able to be consistent and not run away like I sometimes feel like doing. When I feel like things are getting too familiar, my first thought is to run away and start over somewhere else. It's hard for me to explain because it's so contradictory, but while I love getting to know others through reading their blogs, I don't really want other people to feel they know me because I don't think that my blog is a good representation of who I am. Everything that I write here is true, but it's just little bits of me and I know that I do not do a good job of showing the lighter side of me. When I write things that seem like downers, the following day I am tempted to delete my blog because I don't want the people that read here to think I'm a negative person. I don't even know why I care, but I do. It feels important to me that people know I am more than the words that I write here.

I have a sporting event to attend tomorrow and let me just say that I am going into this event already feeling like I will not be able to control myself amongst the parents. Earlier in the week the other team made a big to-do over NEEDING to play a match early. I swear I fielded over 10 phone calls trying to appease these people and when we finally agreed to a date and time (their choosing) about an hour before the girls were to play they called to say one of their girls was sick and that they couldn't play after all! OMG. Seriously, WTF, WTF, WTF? One of my biggest pet peeves is people who ask you to do a favor for them and then end up putting you out further with crap like this. This team has big time entitlement issues and HELLO, it's time someone tells them that our time is as important as theirs and I think I'm just the one to do it. I've said before that I'm nice until I get pushed too far, and then the nice me EXITS the building and the bitch takes over.

Ok...I'm off to do some reading.

Happy Saturday.

We'll love you just the way you are, if you're perfect

I keep thinking that I will wake up one day and know everything I need to know about life. I keep thinking if I get the answers that I'm searching for, I will officially be grown up and I can finally stop looking around corners and wishing on stars and questioning everything. When things are confusing for me, I want explanations that comfort me. When the explanations are at best unsatisfactory, I want to throw them back and ask for something more to my liking.

I have a very disconnected relationship with my family. We can go months without speaking to one another and then I'll crack because a voice in my head will tell me that the normal thing to do is call or email them because that's how I think it's done with most people. I see my husband calling his parents every week and there's a part of me that thinks it's foreign to want to talk to your parents that much. I never begrudge him those phone calls, but I do listen closely to his end of the conversation to get an idea of how it's done because that sort of easiness does not come naturally to me and I learn by watching and listening. Still, when I talk to anyone in my family, I need to shut myself off somewhere so that no one hears me. I have this forced friendliness with them that I don't want anyone to witness because I really hate phoneys and I feel like I'm being one.

I wonder a lot about unconditional love. I think it's a great idea, but I question how many of us truly love unconditionally or if we love hoping that we get something in return for our love. I think secretly we love hoping to get some of that love back. I think the hardest lesson I keep learning is that you cannot make people love you in the way you might need them to love you and so you settle for what they're willing to give because having a little of what you need seems better than having nothing at all.

When I first married my husband, my parents did something very hurtful to both of us. A couple of years ago (the last time we visited them), I guess my father took my husband aside and apologized for their behavior. My husband did not tell me this until just recently and my first reaction was..."Why didn't he apologize to ME???" but I know the answer to that already. It's because we cannot be real with one another. I am still indignant over this mostly because I carry around the way they've hurt me everywhere and it would be nice if I could hear those words so that I can chuck that sack of sorry's and be done with them for good. I am not ashamed to tell you that the messages they sometimes send me, sometimes break my heart.

There has never been a moment when I've doubted their love for me but love is a complicated thing. I've always feared that I would end up being like them, and there are times when I am certain I have. I catch myself saying things I know they've said to me and I catch myself wanting the love I give out to come back to me which means I am not giving it freely with no strings attached. I love with expectations and conditions and a scorecard that measures if I'm getting back what I put in.

I think I will always love imperfectly.

I think I will never know all there is to know about life.