You Can't Say I Didn't Try

Ok, maybe everyone in this world is not as addicted to email as I am and maybe they don't check their messages as much as I am, but 12 plus hours later, I think it's safe to say I was dissed by the people I reached out to in order to make amends.

Oh, well. I did try and I did say my piece. Maybe the zing of rejection hurts a bit, but that's ok -- I know what's up now and I can move on, smarter, wiser, and better for all the experience this offered.

Making Amends/Grabbing Life by the Balls

So, yesterday, after years (literally) of internet snooping, I finally came across RM's assistant on Facebook, and sent a friend request after short deliveration. Surpisingly, I didn't feel all kinds of weird about it - just, oh, wow, it's him! And send a little message along with the request saying hi and that I'm a mom now.



If he never replies, that's ok with me - I feel like I'm finally getting my chance to make amends for my stupid ways (even if that all went in inside my head) and put closure to the story and not feel like such an asshole for doing foolish things in my youth.

And, as one of my readers will be happy to read, I've decided to reach out and email my old friend Z., the one who sort of dropped me along the way when I got back together with my ex-husband after our first separation. You know, life really is way too short to have silly quarrels, and even if I get totally dissed by him, at least I reached out.

It's part of growing up, I figure. Part of dealing with reality and not living with regret or fear, which I hope permeates to other parts of my life. Go figure.

Yep, it's true

I was reading a blog written by another single mom and her discussion with a single dad that rang so true to my experiences. They were commiserting and said that all they wanted was someone to watch tv and drink wine with after their babies go to bed.

So, so, so true.

Sigh.

That IS all that I want right now.

Things I'd REALLY like to put in my Facebook updates

Anonmom (is) ...

- ashamed at how little she's accomplished in comparison to her childhood friends.
- wants to have a fancy fairy-tale wedding and equally sweet marriage.
- wishes she could be a stay-at-home-mom or at least only work part time.
- really needs straight male companionship.
- cursing her genes for her badonkadonk hips.
- wishes her imaginary friend who is based on a real figure from her past would be real.
- needs to get her head out of the clouds.
- needs a drink.
- wishes she had a more fabulous profile pic.
- wishes she had more time to be fabulous.
- secretly wants to be a model and/or a jazz singer.
- wishes she didn't have to worry about money so much.
- wishes she lived in a much nicer neighborhood.
- shouldn't have let hormones get in the way of rational thinking when she met her ex-husband.
- deserves better than this crap!
- wonders where all the cowboys have gone to (per the song).

Self-Esteem

I’ve been thinking about self-esteem lately, how I think that kids who are brought up in a community generally have better senses of their self and a lot healthier view of their self esteem. I’ve mentioned before how I grew up in isolation, but there is one more factor to the situation that I haven’t been eager to discuss much.

It has to do with my parents, who, when I was growing up, were my entire world as they didn’t let me out of their sight for a single second. My dad was a doctor and I spent summer vacations sitting at a table in his back office, with even his patients taking pity on me. What a boring life. I remember one of his surgical assistants took a look at me and proclaimed, “She’s bored to death! Let her get out!” She was right.

Our relationship is better now that I am an adult and on my own, but growing up and especially in my teen years, there were times I was so hateful towards them and had a lot of fear involved in my feelings towards them, specifically to my dad. I can’t blame it on anything except for a lack of understanding on his part and a severe personality conflict between us. We’re just two different people and you know what, he should have realized that at some point he couldn’t force me to be anything less than me.

The worst part of everything was how he would try to instill his beliefs on me on a regular basis. It was, on an almost weekly basis, 2 hours at a time of lecturing, of telling me what I should be doing, asking me what my goals were, grilling me about my plans.

For a young adult, it was too much. Too much stress, too much hurt, too much placing his problems on my shoulders, which is pretty much exactly what it was – a lot of him expecting me to solve his problems. Also, a lot of him trying to solve his problems by fixing my perceived problems. Considering how conflicted our personalities are, these talks were just such a stress inducer for me that was guaranteed to bring me to weeping and my dad to anger and sometimes we would go months without speaking or acknowledging each other.

This wasn’t very good for my self-esteem, needless to say. If your own parents don’t want to speak to you, then what gives? It was as if there was no room at all for me being a human, for having teenage emotions, for wanting to experience and do the things my peers were doing.

My father’s behaviors towards me did not show me that I was loved – they showed me that I shouldn’t shared things with my parents, that I would have to isolate them from my life. Things are different now, but only because I’ve made it so. If I had stayed under their lock and key, I don’t know what would have happened. I had to run away or else.

I’m not the person who wants to go out and have wild nights out, but I’m still really reserved. I’m not in situations where I’m surrounded by a lot of people – I fear judgment, I fear in general.

And I’m tired of it.

I need excitement

My weekend recap post got me thinking ... and I came to some important realizations that are helping to push me forward on this path we call life.

Considering the early stages of my relationship with my ex, I think I was hooked on the excitement level he offered me. It was all so different, so new, so daring, and I craved what he showed me. Certainly different than anything I was used to, maybe not the best thing for me, but I needed to experience those things.

And I did. And I lived. And I got out of the lock and key my parents kept me under. It was my decade-long delayed adolescence. Virtual zits that I had to pick at and endure in order to get to where I am today. Maybe a little pock-marked for the wear, but recovered. And knowing what I needed to know to operate in this world.

Bad mood solved

I think it was lack of sleep that was making me all sorts of grumpy this morning, but after an inspiring and foggy walk on the beach and a handful of halloween candy, I feel better again.

Mondays are rough, that is the least of it. I've also realized that I really have to work on breaking otu of my routine, because doing the same old same old day in and day out gets tired after a while. I need to refresh myself and do things differently every once in a while.

Of course, candy helps, too.

I don't mean to ....

... sound so negative, but you know what? Single mother-ing it is HARD. HARD.

Yes, I do have a lot of family support, but it's all the here and there and constantly being on the go that just makes it ... hard. Hard to focus, hard to decompress, hard to keep on track, hard to keep myself positive, hard to keep my chin up and realize it's not always going to be this way.

Hard to finish my thesis, hard to type out the relatively few remaining words I have to type, hard to make myself do it. Hard, when I actually do it, stay up until 2 am, and then oversleep and then make the morning rounds.

It's just not easy.

Sometimes I wonder ...

... how I can meet people to do things with. The little guy really does fill up my life, but ... I'm lonely.



I think loneliness is one of the things I have to conquer in this lifetime, because I've felt lonely for about 25 years, since my family moved from Tennessee to California. Yes, it really was that different there - just a whole other world.



The other day my mom said something that I can't believe she did say -- that she and my dad think it would have been better for me if we'd stayed in Tennessee. I can't help but wonder the same thing.



They left because I had major allergies in Tennessee and I'm sure they wanted to move to a sunnier state. But, the move also corresponded with a huge drop in my self-esteem that has never quite recovered. In Tennessee, I was literally the doll of our community. Teachers, friends, neighbors doted on me and my mom saved the notes and cards that came with gifts.

In CA, it just wasn't the same. Maybe attitudes are different here, maybe my family was just really isolated, but more than anything, I remember feeling exceedingly lonely in my childhood and adolescence.

I can't blame my parents, but they just did not let me out of the house at all - something about the East Coast made it more conducive for me to be around my peers, but in CA, forget it. I was pretty much under lock and key and I do think it was to my detriment.

There was one moment when I was about 15 or so and I'd written on an index card over and over (typical teenage angst), "I am so lonely." My mom had happened to find it and wrote back, "So what."

Argh.

This whole topic makes me sad, because, you know what, I really AM still lonely. A marriage couldn't cure it, a baby hasn't cured it, and I wish so much that I was part of something larger, something that I felt a part of.

I know people say I'm smart, pretty, and a catch, but no one wants to catch me or has really wanted to catch me ever. Why not? What am I doing wrong?

A fun jaunt

Today I took a quick little trip to a small seaside community near my house. It's so cute and different than where I'm located and it really refreshed me for the week ahead.

It brought back memories, because it's where my ex and I had our first date. At the time I remember being so amazed that this cute town even existed - there was (and still is) a lot of Southern California I haven't explored or even known about.

Those first few dates were such a rip-off and I want my money back -- he made it seem that he was hip, was adventurous, when in fact, it was just part of his talk. Later on, as I was doing things with his friends, it was always, oh, one day I'll join you. But that one day will never come.

The bright side is that I'm making new memories, making new opportunities to explore and enjoy, making a point to do these things for myself, because no one else is going to force me to do them.

My main purpose was to get some much talked about cupcakes and then take the baby to a local park, but it turned out that there where some halloween activites that we stuck around for. There were a few stepford mommies around (as the area is renowned for) but we had a great old time. It was actually nice to be in a posher area than my immediate neighborhood, which is crap city.

It's not terrible, it's just ... blah ... there is no extra love that goes into the city, plus it's pretty low income and I don't think people really CARE all that much about prettifing the pavement streets. On our traditional Sunday walk along the main drag, it's not uncommon for the baby and me to run into the neighborhood schizo limping around with a used cigarette butt hanging out of her mouth, screaming obsenities to the world. It's also not uncommon for us to come upon a used condom as we pass by one of the many, many motels on that drag ... ugh. Ew. Gross. Toto, I don't think I'm in Orange County anymore.

When I bought my car, I learned that my credit score has greatly improved in the past year, which is something that was holding me back for the longest time. When I moved into my current apartment, my exMIL had to cosign. My ex, with his insistence that we stay under $1000 did me a favor, actually, because I can afford the rent without him around. But, knowing that if I had to I COULD get a place on my own with my improved credit score gave me the craigslist itch.

Sure, I can't really afford move -out costs, but I had the thought that it was time for me to look for a new, bigger, nicer place to call home.

Man, were those hopes utterly DASHED! I'm thinking it's because of the rash of foreclosures pushing everyone towards rentals, but the rents are crazy ridiculous. $1500 for a one-bedroom in a really scary neighborhood. In other words, I should be happy where I am!

I don't forsee myself moving back with my parents (can't for mental health purposes) or even sharing with other people (I like my privacy and will eat rice and beans if I have to), but I do forsee a move closer to my parents happening. Orange County has better schools and it would actually be more affordable for me.

Can't think of that now, though, I have to worry about improving my status, finding a better-paying job, which just HAS to be out there.

On a totally unrelated topic, I realized today I really need to go clothes shopping, even if this means I have to go to Target to make it all happen. I'm still working on losing the baby weight, so in the past year since I went back to work I've focused on buying stuff I can wear at work. However, my home stuff has suffered and I don't really have anything appropriate to wear when I'm out with the baby.

My new hips have made it impossible for me to fit into pants, so I've decided I'll just bite the bullet and buy stuff from Lane Bryant and then have it tailored to fit my figure, since the size of my hips doesn't really match up with my waist or legs. Impossible!

But, I really want to look better put together and I want to present myself in a different way. I'm not sloppy mommy, I'm in-control mommy. Yeah, that's the spirit!

It's a two-way street

Yesterday (it seems like it was ages ago that it WAS yesterday, that's how fast time goes) I had a talk with my exMIL that cleared up a couple of my major concerns with the whole moving situation with my ex.

It turns out that he is going to be living with his friend and his girlfriend in a house that belonged to his friend's mom. My exMIL admitted that legally my ex really was supposed to notify me in advance (it says so in our divorce papers), but it was something that happened on such short notice.

She also took my side and said she talked to my ex and told him that you know, I am a mother and my concerns are legitimate. And I appreciate that coming from her.

She also reassured me that the visitations and everything else will be at her house, still, and that is all I wanted to know in the first place. For a 35 year old man, my ex has little to zero concept of common courtesy, especially to whom it counts.

We all agree that he has problems, and one of them is that he pays more attention to his friend at the moment than anything else. Well, this friend is definitely the friend of the moment and he's so caught up in the early relationship whirlwind that he does not care about anything except himself. Forget that he has a baby who has a concerned mother ....

I'm just glad that everything is clear right now, because I WAS seriously worried and there was no end to my frustration re: getting an answer from my ex. What a jackass.

There was also some drama with my exMIL -- she recently found out that she was the victim of identity theft and freaked out to the point of almost no return when she received her credit report yesterday. She's never seen hers and didn't understand what a lot of the gobbeldy gook on the report meant, and neither did her husband.

Luckily for her, her husband, and Andre (because she would have skipped out on babysitting on Monday), I had a brief stint as a loan officer and learned how to read credit reports. I swung by their place to take a look at it on my way back from my mom's and it's not as doom and gloom as she thought.

In fact, it's downright manageable. It seems as if someone, I'm venturing an illegal immigrant, used her social and a bogus address to try to open numerous accounts and even buy a house for the last 2 years, with the last activity in April '08. Something happened after that - maybe they skipped town - because they were making payments and then stopped and the bill went to collections.

She can deal with this and there was no need for her to freak out, but she really just didn't know any better. There's a business idea for you - making stuff like credit reports, etc, more relatable to people who aren't in to new technology, or don't have time to watch financial shows.

Would be a hit, I'd think.

Thinking about the future

This is definitely not living in the now, but I can say with total honesty that I am afraid of getting into a relationship again. I am afraid of being with another version of my ex, afraid of losing myself again, afraid of being with someone who projects their anger and insecurities of me. I'm afraid that I'll be in a relationship again where I'll have to shoulder the responsibilities on my own. Darn it, I'm even afraid of mean people at work who display those kinds of behaviors.

That's not what I SHOULD be saying ... I should be saying that I believe in true love, I believe I will find my perfect match, I believe in the good of people, I believe I deserve good things.

At least I'm admitting it ... a step in the right direction.

I feel better today

Out of sight, out of mind, and exhaustion has helped as well. I'm not thinking about yesterday's tiff and in general feel much better about things. Work is keeping me well occupied and by the end of the day, I just don't have the energy to worry, and that is a good thing, all things considered.

There is no question that I will get my way -- I always have. I have to remember that I am dealing with a person who does not have all his marbles and that is the truth of it.

About 8 years ago, I went through a huge self-help/self-improvement phase and acquired a great number of books that are still at my parent's house. I happened to have Marianne Williamson's "A Return to Love", which is based on another book called "A Course in Miracles", which I think I also had but just can't find.

I'd been thinking about forgiveness and so as soon as I opened the book, what do you think I found? The section on forgiveness. It gave me a lot of food for thought and I realized that the only person I am hurting is myself. This is so true ....

When I got to work I sat down and had a chat with my work friend and realized that I can never change my ex, he is still the same person he was when we first met and he will always be that person. I just see him through a different filter.

I don't think there is an easy answer to anything, but the focus must be on me and my son now, not on him. Really, not/

I love it, I love it, I love it....

I love how the high school nerd, who used to come to school dressed up in his Star Trek uniform, now looks a zillion times better and younger than the Big Man on Campus, who now looks like no one you'd want to date.

Am I the only one who gives a damn?

I spent the majority of my commute to my mom's house tonight crying in a way I haven't done in months. You see, right as I was packing up the baby and preparing to leave, I got into it with my ex and he insulted me in a way that just rattled every bone in my body. His mom was there and she refused to back me up (or anyone up), even partially blaming me even though I didn't make the first strike, and it just left me mad and wondering when the hell am I finally going to have justice in my life. Apparently NEVER!

I know they're just words, but it's the flippant, careless attitude that my ex delivers them with that just drives me all the way over the edge to don't-mess-with-me-ville.

You see, it all started with termites. We're in month 8 of my ex's extended stay with his mom and step-dad and they're having to tent their house for the next two days. All I knew about my ex is that he would be staying with one of his friends (whom I don't like at all, but that is a long and extended post).

When I came to pick up the baby tonight, there was a door on top of my ex's car and it comes out that he's moving out permanently (or, who knows -- as his equally frustrated stepdad would only say, "revolving doors") to his friend's moms house.

This was apparently a recent development and actually brand new news to my ears, so of course my first concern is the baby. I wanted to make sure that when the baby visits, it would be done at my exMIL's house, for the baby's safety and also due to the fact that I really do not like the guy my ex is moving in with whatsoever.

I have a good instinct for people - it didn't work with my ex, apparently, but in general I'm great at sniffing out what people are really like - comes from being an only child so long and also from being highly introverted for most of my life.

No one was giving me an appropriate answer, so I told my ex I only want the baby at his mom's house.

His smarmy response was, "So, I can't take him to see Jon, ever?"

Me: "Absolutely not. I don't know these people and their house is not child appropriate."

Him (even more smarmy, looking at texts on his cell phone): "YOU'RE not child appropriate."

[This is the moment I blew my top] Me: "You do NOT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT WHATSOEVER! EVER!!!!!!!!!!!"

Him (as his mom tries to cool down the situation, in the meanwhile he's putting the phone receiver to his ear): "You're fucking crazy."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Am I the crazy one here? Really, am I? Am I wrong for being concerned about my child's safety
and wanting to assure that he's not in a bad place, not in harms way? Am I fucking crazy for demanding an answer that involves my one year old infant child?

I know I have to learn to let situations like this go, but it's that stupid attitude that just gets me every single time. This is a 35 year old man who lives a consequence-free life and who does not understand or grasp the entirety of having a family and raising a child, and then uses every opportunity to insult me when I dare challenge him.

You know what makes me really mad? The utter disrespect ... the fact that he can get away with saying this. When I told his mom that I cannot believe how rude he was to me, she said, "well, you were rude to him, too" ... UH, HELLO ... AT WHAT POINT?!?!?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARgh. My exFIL is on my side, but he will never jump into any argument because he's just too old and too tired. As dear as my exMIL is to me, she will never take my side and I hate it. She promised she'd talk to my ex, but....

The last couple days, I've been thinking about how rough this situation is and it's been at the top of my mind, which contributed to my outburst. Right before I'd come to pick up the baby, I went to the grocery store and spent $15, which leaves me with $5 for whatever until my next paycheck.

It's an insult for my ex to lobby that remark to me when I am literally scraping things together to provide a good life for my child, sacrificing time spent with him and money for his sake. Instead of calling me fucking crazy, how about a thank you for taking care of my child, for ensuring that he's not in harms way. How about a thank you for driving in traffic 3 days a week so my child can be in the care of a loving grandma. How about a thank you for buying a new car to ensure my child is as safe as he can be. How about a thank you for only seeing my child approximately 3 hours while he is awake 3 days a week. How about a thank you for paying for the lion's share of the medical bills incurred when said child was born.

A few years ago, when I'd first moved to So Cal, I was in a collision in a parking lot and I had the misfortune of it happening with these 2 incredibly smart-assed teenage boys. Instead of just plain asking for my insurance, they started off with, "YOU STUPID BITCH." Shocked, I just
kept repeating, "I AM NOT A STUPID BITCH! I AM NOT!"

I feel lame for saying this, but why do words hurt so? It's the intention behind them - to break a person down, to make them feel like they are lesser, for someone else's benefit.

In terms of the baby and his dad's move, I really am worried about how this situation is going to work out. And no one else seems to care.

The reason I cried is because of the frustration -this isn't what I wanted from my life. I want to spend more time with my child, I want that so bad. I want that more than anything. What do I have to do to make this happen? I want to be able to provide more for him. Again, what do I have to do to make this happen?

Going back in time ...

Last night I was feeling a bit blue because gosh darn it, I'm just pooped. I was playing with the baby right before bedtime and started putting myself to sleep as I was reading to him.

I'm exhausted. I can't even own my exhaustion and turn it into something empowering, because it's just too much these days.

I'm also lonely.

Then, I started thinking about why I hate hearing the word "bitch" in songs and went back to about 8 or 9 months ago when I brought up to my ex the subject of finding a second job to please help me out a little bit.

He had this crazy, un-thought out plan that he swore was going to change our lives and let me be a stay-at-home mom, which was to move to Texas where he would magically get a job as a teacher and apparently, we would be able to buy a house by snapping our fingers even though we had no savings or any kind of assets. Never mind that moving costs at least $5000.

He was holding on to that dream so tight that he refused to live in the present of our then-reality. The reality was not pretty.

So, one day, as I was begging him to take the part-time job at Starbucks he was offered, his response to me, his then-wife and mother of his child was, "Fuck you you fucking bitch."

There were so many things that he did to respect me on a daily basis, but that just threw me over the edge and I spent the better part of a day taunting him in a singsong voice, "Fuck YOU you fucking bitch." Anything he tried to say to me got the same response, "Fuck YOU you fucking bitch."I was goading him to break him, to get him to apologize to me, to force him to respect me, I think.

In my state of mind back then, I really can't blame myself or wonder why I didn't do anything else. It was the end of our relationship and I knew it and I didn't care. Instead of apologizing, he tape recorded me ranting and threatened to use it against me to take the baby away from me.

Oh, so much hurt still comes out.

I was thinking about this incident yesterday because I was thinking about forgiveness, which is something that's been on my mind lately. I can forget very easily, in fact I hadn't thought about the above incident for months, but can I forgive my ex yet?

Forgive him for disrespecting me during our marriage and even now? Forgive him for placing all of his insecurities on me? Can I? Maybe, but I'm not there yet. A part of me is begging for justice, or at least a resolution to the torture he put me through.

But maybe that will never come.

And the verdict is ...

... a 2% raise, making a whopping $.38 cent raise to officially push my hourly rate out of the teens and bump my monthly paycheck up about $40.

Not much, but times are tight all around, and I'll get a retro check on Halloween that will go back to June, so it will be a nice little amount to have around.

I had my way overdue review today and it went really well. My boss and I had a good conversation and she promised she would try to do what she could next year (that is presuming I'm still there... who knows).

Considering our rough patch a few months ago that was spurred by my post partum depression, I'm grateful that the review was positive. And although I know I am very lucky to have a job right now that pays well, I'm still kind of ... I don't want to say miffed, or insulted, but along those lines.

Sigh. The positives of my job and the negatives are hand in hand. I HAVE to earn more money, I just have to, and I have to have faith that it will happen to me even in these tough times.

Right after my review, I was talking to another admin who was wondering if our position ever gets promoted and if we ever get to go off the clock. The answer to both is no, and that's just the way it is. Poor thing - she was really worried about it. She actually left the company and her job for her difficult boss for a month only to come back after an even more difficult job.

The way the company is structred is strange in comparison to other companies. It's a medium sized company, privately-owned, founded 45 years ago, a leader in automotive and beauty trade publications, and seemingly weathering the storm although the company purse strings are being held a bit tighter. There are 3 levels of employees - editors (aka writers) and publishers, sales, admins/accounting/events and there really isn't much room for advancemnt unless you're an editor, which is really frustrating for someone like me.

Where else to go, what else to do? My predecessor lasted a whopping 4 years, but by the end I think she was totally burnt out and ready to move on. Can't blame her.

The admin job is not a long lasting one - there are 5 positions and one has been there for 9 years, and I'm at her tail for 2.5 years ... everyone else is a relative newbie.

So, right now my dilemma is stability or risk. I decided to start looking for a new job in January, but I'm not so sure anymore. I do know that I need to make more money, but how can I risk this job that isn't going to disappear any time soon?

What do I do? Time will tell. I have to keep myself open to possibilty.

Well, kingdom has come ...

... and I really have to start paying my student loan debt, after putting it off for years. Oy. Oy. Oy.

The bad news is that with this on top of my monthly car payment, things will be veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery tight for as long as I stay in this income bracket.

The good news is that I can refinance both my student and car loan in a few months and in January my auto insurance rate is going way down. Phew.

I'm glad I didn't splurge on cable, even thought I really wanted to have it after not having it for so long. But, if I've been able to live without it for years, I can still live without it.

For my birthday, I'm keeping my traditional spending splurge to a dull roar. I think I will go ahead and order a new wheel cover for the one that I managed to scratch after having my car less than a week (arrrghhh...) and this beautiful headpiece from etsy. It's totally frivolous, but I just adore it and I know I'll use it at some point. Sometimes you just gotta have a little frivolity in your life.

I'm trying not to be jealous

When I had my son, there was a bit of a baby boom going on amongst my friends. It was the time for it and now I find that all of my friends are now expecting their second babies.

Am I a little jealous? Yes. The same way I'm jealous that they have responsible husbands, homes, and more money than me.

On one hand, I am kind of relieved that I don't have to worry about another baby - pregnancy is tough, especially the last couple months of complete uncomfort, newborns are really tough, and then there is the problem of integrating the newborn with your toddler who is bound to be extremely jealous and possibly hurtful towards the new baby.

I do think it would be better to have another baby when your first is a little older, so maybe that is what is in store for me. Who knows.

The jealousy can be hard to mask, but you gotta do it, keep a smile on your face, and be genuinely happy for your friends.

There was one time when my ex and I were still dating and he wanted a baby so bad, mostly because his lifelong friend had one (now he and his wife have 3). When he called my ex to tell him about the second pregnancy, he profusely congratulated him, but I felt the jealousy in his voice, the struggle to be happy for someone else when your own future is not assured.

But, look at us now - we've been married, divorced, and unexpectedly had our own little baby. The message is that even thought the future is unknown and possibly murky, who knows what treasures are ahead for you. You just never know until it happens.

My daily message from the universe

Most don't stop to think,but both having money and not having money make fantastic adventures possible that would not otherwise be possible.
Same for having, and not having, anything else.
Everyone's a winner in time and space - The Universe

A few months ago, a now former-coworker told me about tut.com and how you can sign up for daily affirmations. The Universe sends me such great little tidbits that are so non-schlocky and fresh and really give me a good start for the day. They're also strangely right on target!

I love the one from today -- you know, even though everyone is freaking out about the economy and a recession, I realized that I've already weathered a personal recession for the last few years and since I've already dealt with the worse, this is no big deal.

The tips I'm reading from financial pundits? Have coffee at home, eat at home, recycle cans, sell stuff you don't need -- old hat! Thanks to having hard times, I am prepared for anything!

One more clueless tidbit from last night...

The ex was in a generous mood, because we passed a selection of LeSportsac's Tokidoki purses (translation - expensive anime-designed bags) and he told me to pick one out for my upcoming birthday.

Me: "X, these are expensive purses."
Him: "I know, but I can get a discount through my mom."
Me: Nothing, just moved on.

Sigh. Some people have their priorities in the wrong place.

30th Barfday Announcement!

I am going to Disneyland.

My birthday history in a nutshell - I had fabulous parties when I lived in Tennessee, full of neighborhood kids and innocent fun, and then my parents had to go muck everything up and move to California, where we knew no one and unlike my old neighborhood where people were open and friendly, we moved to a cold and austere condo where I was the youngest person by at least 20 years.

Just like the gym I go to now, but I digress. My first birthday party in California was about a month after we'd moved and had barely moved into the condo. So, my parents took me to Chuck E. Cheese, which was just so cool to me since we didn't have them in Tennessee, and I spent my 6th with mom, dad, a mechanical mouse and his mechanical crew, and that was that.

Sad to say, but the parties never quite recovered after that. Our social life hasn't been the same since Tennessee and my parents sent me to a school with a really low enrollment. There were four people in my 6th grade glass and 6 in my 8th. I can never remember how many were in 7th, but I think it was a lot higher for some odd reason.

Then, in high school, my glory was overshadowed by my sister's and I remember spending my sweet 16th in a Barnes and Nobles, picking out a book per my mom and dad's suggestion.

My 18th wasn't much more exciting - I think it was dinner and Fresh Choice (a "healthy" buffet where you can stuff yourself with 3,000 calories but think you're still sticking to your diet) with my mom, sisters, and two friends (still my friends to this day).

The moral of the story is that I've never had an exciting birthday party, well, not since my childhood. No one's thrown one for me and I don't have the resources to throw one for myself. I'm not going to lie, I'd love a bash, but you know, I don't have the biggest and most available social group.

My last few birthdays were dinners out and movies and that was fine with me. Even last year my ex took me out with friends and we bundled up the baby and he came with. But, this year, the game has changed. And, truth be told, it makes me sad. Will it be this way forever?

As a single mom, I can't really go out at all. I'll have dinner with my exMIL and then dinner with my parents and that's that. Happy barfday to me.

S0, today, I made a decision to take the day off (it's a Tues) and go to Disneyland with my son (I really had him so I'd have a permanent date to events), at least for a few hours, and then eat with him in one of the nicer restaurants. Something I'd love to do. Talk about reclaiming your day.

Another thought ...

The whole time I was with my ex and our son at the mall this evening, I kept thinking, "I hope no one thinks we're together," which is complelty ludicrous if their is a child involved.

The sad thing is that the sentiment from today is exactly the same as when we were married, even when I was hugly pregnant and even more so when we were with the baby.

Sad and indicative.

I can barely kkeep my eyes open. Time to zzzzz.

Ain't got no sense

There were 2 positive things that happened after my evening outing with my son and ex --

1. The baby got a really nice, new pair of shoes that were much needed.

2. I didn't have to go home with my ex!

Today was his visitation day and I jam packed a lot of activities into my 4 hours without the baby. I took my cans to the recycling center and came back $12 richer, I got a sesame cream puff at the Japanese bakery, I browsed through Home Goods, I prepped for tonights cooking night (I make lunch for the rest of the week), I cooked, I cleaned, and I got a pedicure. All in 4 hours!

The baby really needed new shoes (tight shoes probably caused last week's wedding disaster), and my ex really wanted to buy him shoes, so my ex-MIL suggested we make an evening of it. My exFIL even wanted my ex out of the house for a few hours, so he was all for it, too. I don't blame him -- having my ex around for an extended period is enough to drive anyone bat wings

On the way over, he asked if I had the new Madonna CD and started singing a song from it -- I didn't say a word, but just thought about the irony of it all. Is this man totally oblivious? Is he just doomed to eternal cluelessness? I think the answer is a definitive yes.

So, we loaded ourselves into the car, and off to the mall we went. The baby got the best and cutest shoes, since my ex, ironically, has deep pockets whenever it comes to shopping. The man is so cheap in so many areas - food from the dollar store, clothes from goodwill, my monthly child support, but when it comes to certain things, like shoes or baby stuff, he goes all out and does not care about price. If it were me, I would have bought the baby something from online at a good price, but he wanted to do it, so I let him.

The baby got shoes, socks, and cool wooden train and then we went to show them off to my exMIL who works in that mall. We then went to dinner at Pat and Oscars and the whole dinner was an exercise in frustration. It felt just like old times and the only silver lining to all of this was that I realized we are no longer married and that is the cherry on the cake to all of this.

We didn't fight, rather we had a good time with the baby, but my ex is just so darned self-involved and that's the entire problem. He gobbled down his food, without checking to see if me or the baby had gotten our food (the baby never did) and was on his phone text messaging his friend the whole time.

Just frustratingf ... grrrrrrrrrrr... but on the other hand ... WHEW!

Selfish is as selfish does...

Even though this is my blog and I can say whatever the hell I want because I can, I try to avoid using the words "I" and "me" too much.

Why? Because I have a complex over appearing too selfish as a direct result of being exposed to certain people in my life. The culprits? Colleagues and co-students.

You know the type, the ones who so innocently start a conversation with you, maybe there's a little back and forth before you realize that their entire purpose of starting said conversation was to bogart it, not let you get a word in, and any thing you do say is taken over by them in an entirely new direction.

For example:

Them: Oh, it's such a great day today.

You: yeah, I love sunny days.

Them: I'm going out to the beach this weekend and I am so excited about it.

You: Oh, wow, that's awesome. I just love the beach.

Them: I have this new out fit that I'm going to wear and I'm goign to look fabulous in it.

You: That's cool - which one are you going to?

Them: I just love going to the beach, I always have such a great time and I'm sure I'm going to get a good tan. I look so good in a bathing suit. I am just in such great shape these days....

You: (trying to get a word in edgewise)

Them: (for the next ten minutes) I, I, I, me, me, me, me, me, me, me.

Sigh. Possible the single greatest frustration in life.

One of my makeup artist coworkers that I've know for years earned the nickname "Me Me", since she was the epitome of one of these people - a sunshine taker, because she wanted to take all the sunshine from everyone else.

There was one time she was having a converstaion with another Me Me and it was ridiculous -- I wasn't the only person who noticed the Me Me-ism and along with another coworker, we watched the two of them have the worlds most selfish almost-conversation. I mean, as soon as one of them ended a sentence, the other one started talking, but each of them were in their own world talking about two entirely different self-serving things! You had to witness it to appreciate the entire scope of it's selfishness.

She was just ending her marriage, so maybe I couldn't blame her, but she's still up to her old tricks. I read her blog and just cringe sometimes because it is just full of me, and I , and I'm so great and I'm so wonderful and blah, blah, blah.

Why does it bother me so much? Am I jealous of her? Does it remind me too much of myself? Even though I can get on a me tangent at times, I don't think I'm jealous, but it does irk me to be around the constant pay attention to me, me, me -- there's no room for anyone else's accomplishments!

I'm in a better place now

I was reading some emails that my ex sent me when he was just about to leave me and every time I read them I get the same feeling - chills.

It was such an awful time in my life, truly awful. Reading his disregard, which is so obvious now but not as much then, just gives me the most awful feeling in the bottom of my heart.

The reason I was looking at them is because I was digging around in my old aol account that I never check anymore to see if I possibly received any emails from my ex-friend Z, or if I had saved any of my old im conversations with radio man from 8 years ago, even though I know I erased them. Why did I want to look back at them? Because I'm in a funk and needed a boost from good memories from my past.

I also found this quote that I'd saved and it is so true and so profound and such wisdom in a few words:

"The reward of suffering is experience." Harry S. Truman

Missing in Action

I met my friend Z when I was taking a language class in Beverly Hills that was forced upon me by my ex. Not accepting that English is my mother tongue and I really don't have the need or interest to learn my ancestral language, especially when it's being forced on me, he signed me up for classes and sometimes paid for them, but most of the time it was my expense.

And, really, I dreaded the classes. I did learn and retain my knowledge, but it was just bad all around -- how enjoyable can something be when you're doing it under threat? Our relationship wouldn't last unless I did this, he said, and in the end he ended up leaving me anyway because he wanted to be around people who were not Americans (his words not mine).

Anyway, I started taking this class and I met Z. - a professional, a gay man, from the country neighboring my birth land, fluent in his dialect but taking the language class for his own self development, funny as hell, with a snark level that boasted mine (a rare, rare feat). We got along famously from the beginning and he had just gotten over a breakup with a man he moved from a neighboring city that I grew up near in Northern California. A man similar to my ex in many ways, which is what gave us an extra bond.

He actually met my ex when we were still together and immediately hated him, when I thought they would get along famously because they'd studied similar things.

Then the time came when my ex infamously gave me the old heave ho and I was devastated beyond belief. Z. came to my apartment that first day and let me cry in his arms. In the ensuing months he took me here and there, invited me to dinner, introduced me to people I count as friends ... and then my ex and I got back together and the contact diminished. And then I told him I was pregnant and I haven't heard from him since.

And I miss him. I've been able to push his memories aside because I realize he was going through his own problems, and I think some of his issues with me might be jealousy-related, but I do miss him.

He opened my eyes to a lot of things, made me laugh when I wanted to sob, and because of him I had the best cultural event experience of my entire life.

But, I guess we weren't meant to be.

Something I promised to write about a few days ago

Well, he' s at it again, up to his good old tricks. Not my ex, but my ex-step-father-in-law.

He isn't doing anything bad or evil, he's just being himself - the part of his self that like to call his wife "Chub" and "Dummy" to her face.

Years ago, when I'd first gotten involved with my ex and was hanging on to him in complete desperation, he gave me the moniker "Tubs", and although I and everyone on the planet earth objected, I let him go on using it.

Yes, I was overweight (still am), but there is no justifiable reason to call your wife a demeaning name ... I knew it then, but I know it even more now. I never called him "baldie who looks pregnant" and I never would have. In my mind and in the minds of most of the civilized world, it is just not cool whatsoever to call someone you supposedly love names that have mean connotations.

When my ex and I reunited after our separation, he started calling me a much friendlier nickname, but that's besides the point. The point is that he probably learned this from his stepfather, who calls his wife all kinds of names, whistles for her to get him stuff like a dog, and is just plain redneck.

As I've said time and time again, I have very little tolerance for redneck behavior and my time spent around him comes with an expiration date. What I've also made clear is the fact that I insist my son grow up as a gentleman ... I say please, thank you, excuse me around him and his grandmas also teach him good manners.

My son doesn't spend a lot of time around his adopted grandpa, but kids, especially at my son's age, pick up on stuff so fast and I do not, absolutely do not, want him to think it's ok to call a woman stupid, dumb, fat or insult them in any way.

On Monday night, as I was leaving for home, the culprit told my ex-MIL very loudly, "Hey dummy, go get ready." That cut me like a knife. First, she is no dummy whatsoever. Second, I was mad at her for letting him get away with it, and lastly, I became inflamed with the thought he's teaching that to my son.

So, what do I do? Have a talk with my ex-MIL that may ruffle feathers? I do depend on them to do a lot of stuff that helps me out with the baby and I can't risk losing it. Talk to my ex-MIL and tell her I don't want that nonsense going on? Verbal abuse isn't cool. Is it also an opportunity to show my son lessons from this?

When my ex and I were right about to break up, he was calling me all kinds of horrible names to my face and in front of the baby - stupid, shit for brains, ugly, fat, etc ... I remember one night I was recovering from a fight and I had a flash forward in my mind to where the baby was 7 or 8 and quite seriously and with meanness telling me that I was stupid.

It was then I knew what I had to do. I had to get my baby out of that toxic environment. Now, this isn't toxic to that degree and I know at some point my baby will be exposed to reality, but am I unjustified in not wanting that kind of language around him? Am I the one taking crazy pills?

If there is one thing I know for sure, my kid is not a redneck and never will be. There will be no varmint hunting magazines (that's the title of it), no guns, no picking teeth with knives. NO!

My upcoming barfday

My 30th barfday (I say barfday because, really - 30? BARF!) is in a month and I don't think it's going to be all that memorable for me. I feel like it's going to be like that SATC episode where Carrie went to a restaurant to meet her friends for her 35th and no one ended showing up, she had to pay for her cake herself, then dropped her cake in the middle of some roadwork and had some street workers yell at her.

Not literally, but the feeling will be the same. No man, a split life between my apartment and my parent's, no group of friends I can count on, no plans - just me and my baby, at the end.

Sure, I'll have dinner with my ex-MIL and my own family, but it's so disjointed, no real celebration, no party.

What I WOULD prefer is one big dinner out, with friends invited - somewhere exciting. Alas, not this year. Gotta suck it up - part of growing up and growing old.

Lessons from Madge

Oh, Madonna. I’ve loved her ever since my six year old self, under the suggestion of my mom, dressed up as her in all her “boy toy” glory for Halloween, complete with penciled-in mole. I was definitely Team Madonna (as opposed to Team Cyndy Lauper).

On a more profound level, I fell in love with her when she started getting all kinds of metaphysical during the Ray of Light era and beyond – the early Kaballah days and on. She writes/performs/contributes to songs that are pretty powerful and insightful and I am charmed by all of her albums since Ray of Light.

Yesterday she and her husband came out with their divorce and today people are saying things like, that Madonna, she can’t be too easy to live with – what a diva, what a demanding bitch.

I believe that, but I also see that there is a different, much deeper side to her that not everyone sees. She is clearly on the path to self-improvement and it shines in her work.

I also believe the murmurs about her soon-to-be-ex, Guy Ritchie – that he is very similar to my ex in that he uses mind games and threatens and has intimidated her for years. Some reports say that the reason she fell in love with him in the first place is because he’s one of the rare and few who doesn’t take her B.S., which if you’ve seen interview of them together is pretty obvious – he really doesn’t give a shit that she’s the modern holy Madonna.

If you pay attention to the lyrics throughout, her latest album, Hard Candy, is a bleeding testimony to the end of her marriage. There is one song on the album that makes me weep tears of recognition every time I hear it. It’s called Voices, and although it hasn’t been confirmed, it’s Madonna telling Guy the same exact things I want to and have said to my ex for so long. In this song, I completely identify with her and understand the pain she must be experiencing:

Treat me like a curse
Then tell me I'm your saviour
I'm never with the stranger
I used to know so well
Waiting for your answer
Is a kind of torture
Could I grow accustomed to this kind of hell?

Are you walking the dog, 'cause that dog isn't new
Are you out of control, is that dog walking you
Haven't you had enough, now your time is up
Baby show me your hand

Voices start to ring in your head
Tell me what do they say
Distant echoes from another time
Start to creep in your brain
So you claim "madness" like it's convenient
You do it so often that you start to believe it
You have demons so nobody can blame you
But who is the master and who is the slave?

First you say you love me
Then you wanna leave me
Then you say you're sorry
You play the game so well
I bought your illusion
You're the greatest salesman
How could I refuse you
When you sold it to yourself

Are you walking the dog, 'cause that dog isn't new
Are you out of control, is that dog walking you
Haven't you had enough, now your time is up
Baby show me your hand

Voices start to ring in your head
Tell me what do they say
Distant echoes from another time
Start to creep in your brain
So you claim "madness" like it's convenient
You do it so often that you start to believe it
You have demons so nobody can blame you
But who is the master and who is the slave?

Saved by the ex

Last night, as I was wondering how the hell I would get by with $50 for 3 weeks to cover the basics, I had a thought - why don't I ask my underacheiving ex for an advance on November's child support?

My ex-MIL, our unofficial mediator, asked him and he agreed. Phew. It's still not a the usual amount I need to get by, but I can work with it. And thank goodness. Thank goodness.

Whatever - a mini rant

I’ve realized that someone in my daily life who is an adult is living her life like it’s high school again. And this is her chance to be the queen bee – whatever. She wants to be the authority on everything, but, honestly, all the stuff she proclaims and wants everyone to be in awe of her knowing I knew a long time ago. That’s what’s frustrating – the control – she wants to be in control all the time and won’t accept that she can’t always be the queen bee. Just gotta roll it off.

Gonna have to cut back

Well, here's what I'm going to do to get me through the next few weeks -

1. Reduce my portions big time. I make flax seed muffins and eat 2 a day. They keep me filled, but I'm going to step down to 1 a day because I go through the pricey ingredients fast.

2. Reduce my diet hansen pomegranate soda intake to one a day. I usually have 2-3 a day because it helps me not eat too much, but I will replace this with green tea or water with true lemon packets.

3. I won't use sugar-free torani french vanilla syrup in my coffee anymore, just save it for my muffins.

4. I'll drink more water to get me through.

5. I'll buy some stuff at the 99 cent store (got a huge bag of reduced fat kraft shredded cheese) and farmer's market.

6. Instead of certain veggies I buy on a weekly basis, I'll eat from my freezer.

Times is rough

When I think about my financial future for the next 3 weeks, I get scared. I am going to be seriously counting my pennies and there is no way around it. It is what it is.

In my brain and my soul, I know that I am responsible for my own self, and there really is no point to blaming anyone, but this is ridiculous. I never, ever thought that when I was a mother that I would be worried about having enough money to feed myself, pay for gas, pay for my bills, and pay for rent.

I know that I cannot continue to blame my ex, but I can't help but feeling that it is so bad that he is not concerned about the mother of his child and his abilities to provide for his child. It kills, me and no matter what I am doing to lift myself up, I cannot get over this. Cannot, cannot, cannot.

I have to have faith that at some point in my future, this type of situation will be in the past - that I will not have to worry about any of these things. That I will have money in plenty and I will have a surplus of cash that I can give to people who were once in my situation.

Two different scenarios - I was reading about these extremely poverty-ridden people in Bangladesh and how the children are basically killing themselves as they work to make change for food and how they live right next to extreme wealth. It makes me think - what is preventing the poor people from lifting themselves up? What is not allowing that to happen?

Different place, different time - about 2 years ago, I was doing my grocery shopping at a Ralphs located near my home and near UCLA. A student, about 18 or so, bought $300 worth of groceries, handed over a credit card with nary a care, didn't even care that he got a free rotisserie chicken, and then loaded up his suv with his groceries. I couldn't believe it because it was so opposite my experience for years, where I freak out if my total grocery tab is over $60 a week.

Gotta focus on the future.

Get funky

Today, I am in a funk. A true, blue fall funk. It's not that I'm sad or really depressed even, it's that I just feel BLAH. I blame part of it on PMS and the change of weather -- all of a sudden it's brr and especially cold at night -- but the other part of it is that coming back to work today was just such a let down.

Being with my son all day isn't easy - in fact, there's times when I wish I could be at work on the weekends, because this little guy is truly a 2-person operation. He's at the stage where he wants to explore and be a boy, but he can't talk or tell me what he wants and relies on high-pitched screams to communicate.

Don't get me wrong, I love this little boy beyond words and I don't lose my patience around him - I usually just shriek back and turn it into a game - but, I do feel the sting of single parenthood.

On Saturday night, when the baby was all out of sorts and needed tylenol that I didn't have, I called my ex, but he was out of town. I called my mother in law and she came right over. It's nice to know I have her, but at the same time it would be nice to have in-house help, you know? Someone to pat my back and help share the enormous burden of managing a household.

Even though our place is tiny, it is still a huge responsibility and work goes along with it. It doesn't help my funk that I've been working on a tremendous annual project for the last 2 months that is just sapping all my time and energy.

Another part of the work problem is the atmosphere - it is so against my nature to be stuck behind that damned computer and cubicle. It's a shame that so many people spend their lives in an artificial environment, with very little chances to take a break during the day. Of course, I'm sure some people love that, but I'm not one of them.

I want to live - to have a life that doesn't involve failing eyesight and developing carpal tunnel!

Ever since my boss gave me the big talking to a few months ago, I've made a huge effort to be shiny, bright, fresh, and happy around her. I'm always saying hi, always greeting her, always smiling (doesn't that make me slightly slavelike - not to offend, but I feel slightly "yessa, massa" around her - and it makes me nervous) and lately I've been greeted with nothing but grunts. When she IS smiley and happy, it is so off putting because it's so rare these days.

Not to point fingers and say that she's the ulitmate source of misery, because she isn't, but the big part of the problem is that she's taken on a huge responsibility at work, and, frankly, I think it's too much for her, a little beyond her scope.

It's not just me who thinks that way - my coworker/friend and I discuss this all the time and her husband, a scorpio just like me (just 4 days older than me) who is very perceptive, sees what people in the company we work for don't see. That it really is a case of small company, bad management.

With all her complaints/misgivings about me, there is no way for me to communicate to her that I don't think she does a great or even a good job all the time. For our annual project, she jumped the gun and sent out the inital inquiries and did it all wrong and it's been something that I've had to deal with the whole time. And it's so frustrating, because it goes down to the sales team and the sales manager writes me extremely condescending emails and phone calls that pretty much make me out to be a big huge dummy, which I am not!

The sales manager is another case - she is in her mid-40's, married, college-age kid, living in her past, drug-addled, continuation school glory, may be having an affair with her old boss who is at the company, and dreadfully unhappy with her life. I see it, my coworker/friend who is under her sees it, but I don't think anyone else does. She puts on a different face for different people and we two definitely get the bitch face.

That's just the way it is, and I accept it, because I really don't have any choice for the time being. My boss, the sales manager, and the editor in chief call the shots - they are a good team and they work so well together, but there really is no room for anyone else, and as much as I've been trying for the last 2 1/2 years, it's just futile.

As much as this all frustrates me so, along with their promises to advance me that never come through (I am going on 6 months late on my review - there goes all hope for a raise - again, my boss hasn't gotten to it), I just have to fake it until I make it.

It doesn't torment me anymore, I just know that this is what it is and until the day when another opportunity comes along ....

So, tonight, in my funk, I refused to take part in my usual nightly acitvities. My tupperware remains unwashed (gasp), I have a project to do that I am putting off, and I took an early and extra-long shower. I even washed my hair 2 days in a row, which I try not to do because it saves money on hair products.

Ay, I'm tired. Going to bed. Next time on the blog, a rant against my redneck father in law and me having to work up the courage to tell him not to call his wife a dummy or chub around the baby.

We weren't in LA county anymore

I consider myself a fledgling amateur photographer, and with my recent purchase of my digital slr camera, I'm all over all kinds of cameras.

One thing I noticed that was so different about the pumpkin patch yesterday as opposed to anywhere in LA county is the proliferation of digital slr cameras. There wasn't a point and shoot to be found for miles. Ok, maybe there were 2 point and shoots, but for the most part, everyone was carrying cameras that were not less than $1000.

Interesting.

Punkin Patching

The baby seems to be recovered from his misery-filled yesterday, so with bags packed and hopes high, my ex-MIL and I headed to a pumpkin patch on a family-owned farm in Irivine, about 30 minutes from where we will.

It definitely lived up to it's much-talked about reputation -- located in a beautiful, lush area, miles and miles of pumpkins, a petting zoo, produce stand, and tractor rides with a surprise feature - a pumpkin cannon that launched two pumpkins toward a mark. Awesome.

We had a great time, tired our selves out, had a lovely dinner at Ruby's Diner, where I consumed too much ranch sauce (bad me), and then headed out back home.

My ex was there, annoying as always, but for some strange reason I had a proustian moment that took me back to 4 years ago when I first started coming around the house. For a brief moment, I saw myself as the girl I used to be - overweight, insecure, naive, and looking up to him as my guiding savior ... allowing myself to be humiliated time and again, falling for his convicing words, sure that together we would take over the world.

Ah, how naive, how painfully naive at my then 25 years of age.

But the years have gone by, I'm not naive anymore, and I guess I have him to thank in a way - because of his horrendous behavior, I found me - not again, but for the firsttime. And how can I say that is a bad thing?

Oy, its 12:20 am and I just finished my cooking for the week. I desperately need a shower and I am beyond exhausted.

Adios.

One thing my insightful dad mentioned to me right before my ex and I split is that you know, he lost the me he originally met along the way and maybe things were difficult for us because he only wanted that old me.

Oy (is an understatement)

What.

a.

day.

I'm finally getting the chance to decompress after the adventures from this busy Saturday. I ended up getting home at 11:30 pm from Disneyland, and after all the settling in and showering, I fell asleep at 2 a.m.

The highlight of Disneyland was the baby crying after getting off the Winnie the Pooh ride because he didn't want to leave! So cute!

So, we woke up bright and early and I started getting us ready for the wedding reception of 2 dear friends. On a sidenote, these two friends are perfectly suited for each other in the way that married people should truly be.

They are both foodies and met each other through a Chowhound event - Chowhound being a web site/forum for like-minded food afficionadoes. They are such good people and so sweet and I am proud to know them and count them as friends. They are also inspiration to me that true unions of the heart and mind are possible.

The baby and I got all doodied up - I was pleasantly surprised to see that my standard wedding dress fit perfectly - and headed out to San Gabriel, and for the first time, the google map directions stymied me beyond belief.

That area of Los Angeles is confusing in general, but I have never been so confused and so lost. Oh, the frustration. Not only that, but the bride and groom chose a venue for their reception that was so out of the way.

As so not to offend, it was in an area and a restaurant run by a particular ethnic group, and after dealing with them, I don't know how they get anything done - they are so clueless it was driving me nutty. I asked two separate people where I could find a drug store - making sure to enunciate - and this was the response I got: "rest raunt??". Oy.

The reason I needed a drugstore is that on the drive over, the baby started crying so hard and so much that he was besides himself by the time we got there. It was a beautiful drive over - the skyline of downtown L.A. was clear (this is rare) and the traffic was good. He'd been happy the whole time preceeding the breakdown. Just, all of a sudden, when we were almost there, he just bawled his little eyeballs out.

It took a couple of frustrating wrong turns, but we finally made it to the venue and I greeted the bride and groom and our mutual friends and then took off with my grumpy little boy. He wouldn't even let me put him down to walk, so picture me hauling ass in my delicate satin heels, delicate lace dress, with a 26 pound squirmy boy, present, and camera and keys in tow. It wasn't fun. I wish I could have stayed because I tasted two appetizers and they were delicious.

Sigh. The baby cried the whole way home through his sleep (his sobs were heartbreaking), but the moment we walked in the door he was good as new. I suspect his shoes were too small and bothering him because he had two little red spots on the back of his heels.

Well, it WAS nice to get gussied up and it WAS nice to venture out of my normal territory, so those were two big plusses for the day.

The baby and I made the most of the day and I took him to the park and then FINALLY got to taste the ever-elusive and famous cream puffs and a chocolate tart. Can I just say I've tasted heaven? Those Japanese really know what they're doing with the pastries.

It was interesting to see so many Japanese people in the bakery - I don't really see them around town, even though there IS a really large population of them around. All I can say is that Japanese women have a unique style coming through their pores and I envy it.

I was really tired today and I still am - one of those times I wish to God I had a supportive partner at my side. But what can ya do about that. Not much, so I'll just make the best of it the best that I can.

Vacation day..

I am on a vacation day today and am thoroughly enjoying it ... tra la!

Tomorrow, Saturday, two friends of mine are celebrating their recent east coast wedding with a west coast celebration and if I were to leave from my mom's with all of my junk in tow, it would just be a huge mess. The restaurant is pretty far away from both of our homes, so I just said, you know what ... I deserve a friday off.

And, boy, am I so happy I didn't have to wake up at the crack o' dawn to fight the traffic to work. The baby let me sleep in until 8:30 am!!! To top it off, my sisters are both in school so it's just me and the 'rents and the baby. Very relaxing here. He's napping now so I'm blogging before I have to start packing up our stuff.

We're also going to Disneyland this evening since it's on the way home. I'm a bit concerned about leaving my laptop in my trunk, but where we'll park it's very safe and they constantly have bike patrols going around.

So, here's how I'm going to work the Disneyland system and get free parking. The baby and I will get to Disneyland before my mom and sisters and park in the Downtown Disney area, which has free parking for 3 hours. When my mom gets there, she'll watch the baby while I leave the parking area and then re-park. Voila. Free, free, free.

Yesterday on my way home to my parent's home, I very, very, very narrowly averted a car accident. The exit I usually take (the same one Al Gore's son was stopped at for speeding and pot possession, btw) was STOPPED halfway down the freeway. I had to go from 65 mph to zero in a matter of seconds and its only because of my brakes/new tires and the guy behind me pulling out to the other lane that nothing happened. Phew.

I wasn't scared, because I knew that I DESERVE a nice car, and this car will stay nice and serve me well for many years to come.

I've mentioned it before, but I've become obsessed with another blog, written by the parents of a recently deceased one year old boy who was born with many problems. They've touched my heart and so many others and I find myself inspired in new ways by their faith in God. They are amazing people and as much as their story breaks my heart (and theirs in a way I cannot fathom), I see the hope and love they have in their lives and their belief in God is helping them out so much in such a beautiful way.

Even though times are really rough, I am so thankful for all the blessings I do have - I've been blessed with a beautiful boy, a loving ex-mother in law, loving parents, and I am healthy and able to provide a good life for my son. He knows nothing but love, and that is how it should be.

In another blog I follow, the main writer has a guest writer with another tragic story. His wife died hours after having a baby from a blood clot, and now he finds himself in the position of being a father and mother to a young baby as well as greiving his tremendous loss.

Sometimes I read stories of tremendous sadness involving children and that is what breaks my heart more than anything. I can't even stand seeing people spank their kids for being KIDS.

But that's just me... a bleeding heart.

Gratefulness for the day

1. I'm glad there was relatively little traffic on the way to work today, from my mom's house. I really have little tolerance for stand still on the freeways.
2. I'm grateful for the cookies I ate this morning, even though I really shouldn't have. They were so good.
3. Silly, but I'm grateful for the delicious food I have here at work to nosh on. All stuff I really love.

Not only that ... low brow, cont...

It's not just that my ex demanded on teaching me things, why should he feel compelled to in the first place? Why did he feel like he had to "fix" me in order to be acceptable?

I will admit that I did learn a lot about the world from being around him, but there is a fine line between helping and tormenting, and he erred on the tormenting side. Like, I was bad for not having an interest in something, not remembering what he wanted me to remember, not wanting to hear the same inane songs over and over again.

F- him. Just f- him.

Another thing my mom said and respected was the personal sacrifice I've made for the sake of my son - to me, I don't see it as a sacrifice, I see it as there being no other way. I guess maybe it is a sacrifice, but I'm not acknowledging it, and that is for the greater good because if I did, it would only torment me and I would acquire a "poor me" syndrome.

No, there is no room for "poor me" and I won't allow myself to fall into that trap. Not worth it.

I DO wish for more, I DO wish things were different, but that's stuff I gotta actively work on, and that's something I am trying to do every second of the day with every fiber of my being.

I've said it before

But I must say it again ... here, I see things happening erroneously all the time that are beyond my power to fix or even have my complaints listened to, and yet I somehow get blamed.

It's beyond frustrating.

Low Brow

One of the accusations that my ex liked to frequently fling in my direction was that I was decidedly low brow.

This was his authoritative opinion, coming from a man who spends the majority of his day in his pajamas, with a week or more worth of beard and hair regrowth, watching adult swim film clips dealing with adult men discussing feces.

Apparently, I am low brow because I don't want to be forced to watch operas. Operas that he deemed to be important and vital for a person to survive on this planet.

You see, with my ex, life is one big lesson plan. It's not about enjoying your partner, it's about him teaching his partner, back then, me, what he considered important. It's the quintessential "if you can't do, teach" approach.

Let's see, I was an honor roll student, deans list, am considered well read, have been kudoed by many people over many years for my intelligence and I'm low brow because I don't want to watch an opera?

Perhaps I didn't want to watch an opera because I was the sole caregiver and breadwinner for an infant child and you know, if I have 3 spare hours, I would spend it sleeping instead of watchign an opera. Thanks.

What an asshole.

I usually don't like to be this pissy or bring up old times, but I recently started thinking about this subject and needed to blog about it to resolve it. For healing purposes.

It was just so ironic to me that this man had the nerve to say all this kind of stuff to me - that I was unclassy, that I was low brow, when it is so far from the truth. This is a man who has no social graces whatsoever and manages to offend everyone he possibly can. The people who manage to remain unoffended are simply dazzled by his 10 cent words. It's the truth.

It's ok, really because the time he started flinging these accusations at me was around the time I started getting ready for the old heave ho. And I'm so glad I did heave ho.

Last night I talked to my mom about stuff and she said something nice - that I left my ex at the right time - early enough so our baby doesn't have to suffer the effects of hearing his parents fight at every occasion. And it really is a good thing - he is so loved and gets so much more love and attention as we are right now than if we had stayed together.

A sneak peak

Coming tomorrow, sometime mid-day, there will be a post on class - specifically, high vs. low brow ... what determines this. Is it purely subjective.

There will also be an in-depth discussion on beard regrowth and how do you draw a line between charmingly ignored vs. hobo-ishly unkempt.

Stay tuned.

You read it here first

Silly and frivolous as it sounds in these hard economic times, globally and personally, but I'm going to attract a pair of the iconic red soled Christian Louboutin shoes.

I will, just you watch.

Changing my programming

I'm having a tough time putting my thoughts for this subject into words, so forgive me if I ramble on uncomprehensibly.

As you all know, I am an internet stalker. There is nothing more titillating or fascinating to me than catching up with the lives of people I know and have interacted with in the past. It's a genetic illness, passed along to me by my mother, who is equally if not more obsessive about this stuff than me.

I've been catching up on people I haven't seen in ages, and it's been good for me. In the majority of the cases, they're doing the things people are expected to do in their early 30's - marry, have kids, settle down.

It's good for me to see conventional lifes, because I've been programmed to think the unconventional life is ok. And I never really wanted the unconventional life.

I feel, like due to the excessive sheltering forced upon me by my parents, that I was forced to make a dramatic grasp for my own life. Like my son, I am extremely headstrong and independent and as I was growing up, entering my mid-20's and desperate for a life of my own, I made the choice to grab life for myself.

There's a line in one of the songs from the musical Evita, where the ghost of Eva Peron (Argentina's once first lady) sings: "But I chose freedom, running around trying everything new ... "

It's not like I was totally wild - I was not at all - but I made a choice to free myself from my parent's rules and regulations that were getting me no where and were giving me a lot of psychological stress.

They did mean well, but they just didn't know what else to do or how else to react ... so they chose to keep me under lock and key ... and I made the choice to seek my own opinions, my own life style, my own house.

In any other time and place, this might have happened a more conventional way - I would have gotten married to someone they introduced me to, which is what normally happens in their culture. But the problem there is that my parent's are not very social and did not have anyone to introduce me to. In my day to day life I did not interact with many straight, single men, so I turned to internet dating.

I had to grab the rings for myself. And I grabbed the ring that my ex was holding on the other end.

It was such a thrill for me to do things I'd never done before with him ... it was exhilirating and in a lot of ways he brought me out of my shell (only to bring me into another type of shell). And I did end up getting married, unwisely but I did it.

Looking back, I wish I had had a more conventional marriage story, but I don't see any other way of doing it. However, my marriage in its unconventionality was not a good thing for me because it brainwashed me in a way. Here, I had everyone in my world, my dear exMIL included, telling me that it was ok to financially struggle, that it was ok to live like a college student, that it was ok if my ex did not provide for his family, that it was ok for us to live in less than ideal situations, that it was ok for my ex to treat me like a roomate than a wife.

I've spent the last few months changing my programming. I think my generation is a little different than ones before - we're taking our time settling down and marrying and I feel like the majority of the marriages I've seen are solid ones - that they will last and there will not be a high divorce rate because people are marrying much wiser these days.

What I hope for, what I wish more for more than anything is to have that conventional life again -- to have a husband and life partner who is truly my ally, to have a home that I am so proud of and love living in, to have the lifestyle I've been dreaming of my whole life.

To quote another musical, You've Gotta Have Hope.

Gratefulness for the day

1. My little boy/love of my life. I am so grateful he is mine and we have a special connection with each other that I never would have imagine having before.
2. DVD Players - even if I am only ever watching Sex and the City, I am so glad we have this technology in our lives.
3. My work friend that I exchange recipes with. Last night I tried a muy delicious new one. It's good because it keeps me out of my box!

One of my little fantasies

It's funny how as you get older you feel a definite shift in your tastes and desires.

A few years ago, I was all about makeup. Couldn't get enough of it, couldn't read enough of it, hell, I had to get a job as a makeup artist to satisfy my fever.

It was just so *cool* to me - playing with the colors, the fancy packaging, the sheer thrill of purchasing it. A glamourous escape from the mundane surroundings in my boring, thrill-less life.

My obsession has cooled, mostly because of age and having worked in the industry. I think, and this is just my opinion after years of observation and experience, that the title "makeup artist" implies a certain amount of awe ... thanks to celeb makeup artists like the icon Kevyn Aucoin, there is a certain amount of power implied in the term. It just seems really cool, like you're hip and on the go. At least it did to me.

The reality is that as a working makeup artist you are relegated to the down and dirty ranks of a service worker. You're an artist, yes, but you're also a paid servant.And after years of being a paid servant at the whims of the client and a boss, I was over it. So over it, I just don't even care anymore.

Now, my thoughts have turned to home decorating and instead of putting my money to cosmetics that may or may not ever get used ever, I have been focusing on buiding my home and surrounding myself with things I truly appreciate and value.

It took a while for me to GET style and taste. Having been dressed by mom for ages and my home predecided for me for years, I had not a clue about what I really liked myself. I was very basic in my dress and everything I wore was very functional and plain (except for makeup, I knew what I like there ... even when it was purple eyeshadow and orange lipstick ... ew) until very recently, about 3 years ago to be exact.

It was after my ex left me that I started shedding lots of weight and started wearing colors again. As a makeup artist, I had to wear black exclusively and then my ex told me I should only wear black to disguise my weight. Well, screw him, because I picked up color with a passion and haven't looked back.

I started wearing things I never wore before and loved every second of it. Yesterday I wore my first pair of fancy heels and now they seem so silly and short to me, but back then it was such a big deal to me.

Now I'm proud to say that I know what I like and I owe it all to tituba jackson, the long lost member of the jackson family. That's not really her name, but it was a nickname given to an ex coworker at the makeup store I worked at.

I was at that store for over a year and it was kind of like high school over again - the high school experience I never had, but really needed to get, and looking back, I'm really thankful for what my eclectic group of coworkers taught me. tituba was full of style -- she was and is so unconventional and what I learned from her is exactly that - wear stuff that is a little unexpected and walk on the funky side of life. I mentally thank her for just being her all the time.

Now, with my house, it's about the same thing. When I moved out on my own for the first time I blindly picked out functional stuff from Ikea. My bed was a great purchase, but the rest of it I've pretty much given away since.

When my ex moved in with me, he brought with him cardboard boxes and red vegetable crates for furniture and he was serious. Yes! Scary.

I lived with those red vegetable crates until he left me the first time, and after destroying his guitar, they were the next thing I made sure to get rid of. It was quite the relief at the time.

When we moved in again, he brought with him cheapy desks and tables So, when he moved out I promptly got rid of it all and replaced it with stuff I truly loved and now I am so house proud. It's as if I married myself because I invested in all the stuff a married couple or couple moving in usually gets - pots and pans, flatware, curtains, the whole shebang.

Now, I have this fantasy of having the perfect kitchen and dining room set up. I think what I'm going to do is go to crate and barrel and buy the open stock of their really swanky stuff - just one set, for me.

I had this day dream the other day about cream puffs and cupcakes, my new local obsessions , but that's another post. In my day dream, I have my little kitchen table (another big investment I made - my ex wasn't interested in buying one, boo on him) set up with a beautiful placemat, with fine china and more. I have an adorable cupcake (or cream puff) on my plate and it is just such a delectable treat. Yum!

I'm glad to be here, in this place, right now. Glad and it was worth all the pain and struggle for sure.

Gratefulness for the day

Today, I am grateful for ...

1. Having lots of stuff to keep me busy at work.
2. My cookware - I made a really great new recipe last night and I had all the right tools to make it and not have to bootleg stuff.
3. My walk to the gym at lunch and my super slow workout. I have to be present and concentrate on my counts and it's like a little meditiation. Even though I don't wear headphones, I'm in my own little world and don't even care about the gross guys talking about pussy, beer, and football.

Whadda day

Note to self: You must start forgetting your pipe dreams and get your head out of your second life. It's starting to become ridiculous.

Oh, I don't know why, maybe and most likely because I'm pre-menstrual and more exhausted than usual, but I just had veeeeeeeeery little patience this evening when I picked the baby up from my ex-inlaws.

I've rehashed it here before, but there are times, like tonight, when I cannot take my redneck ex-father-in-law and his stupid comments and whistling and burping. I sat around while the baby was eating and he was making stupid comments and whistling and I started feeling this burning sensation in my head ... like, damn, this is nuts ... and then he started flipping the tv channels around like he usually does. He landed on Ray with Jamie Foxx for a second, and then turned the tv to the Andy Griffith show, his usual. He must have seen every episode at least 20 times by now. Never gets tired of it.

Something about that - the complacency despite having so many different tv channels he could pick from - gave me the urge to yell out something horrible. Something like, "you redneck podunk ass!".

Horrible and unladylike.

So, I just got up and fiddled around the kitchen for a while, because the last thing that family needs is more drama. It was the adult thing to do.

Then, following my chain of thought from the morning, I was making remarks to myself the whole way home about how damn redneck the town I live in is and how I never expected to live in this kind of broke down, podunk neighborhood which is full of rednecks and trailer parks. They're not mutully exclusive, as I've learned.

Sigh. I just needed to get home. I felt better immediately. Still tired, but the edge is off.

Oh, and now my ex is im-ing me. Great.

Anyway, my tired thoughts for the day include radio man and my debating whether or not I should or should not add him to my friends list on a professional social networking, for curiosity's sake, even though I know I shouldn't. I'm just freaking lonely and that's the core of it. I miss those old days when he started im-ing me and the sheer thrill of it all. It was sheer naivete on my part, but it just was such an ego boost and I need that now more than ever.

It's not worth it, I decided ... not worth the mental torment to me. After all, it IS true what my mom has said forever - the guy has to pursue the girl. So, so, so true. I learned that lesson from my marriage.

Anyway, in my attempts to broaden my horizon and make changes that will allow me to meet someone, I've started going to the beach, as I've mentioned, and I decided to go to bookstores, coffee shops, and even Trader Joe's on my lunch break, which is my only real chance to encounter new people.

Loneliness bites. As strong as I am, as much as I knew this would happen, I am starting to get desperate for attention, and that worries me because I hope I don't fall for something that really isn't a good thing, when it should happen.

But when ... WHEN will it happen?

Today I reconnected with an ex-coworker on Facebook. We were hired for the same position, started the same day, but she was so much more of a kiss ass than me and therefore she lasted in that position a lot longer. She was such a kiss ass, she handmade Christmas presents for every single employee of the place we worked (in the hundreds) and they were different depending on how she was connected to them. Hilariously OCD.

For the first time, I don't feel a surge of jealously, even though she is now married and looking for a house. That's a big thing for me, getting over my intrinisic jealousy. I'm happy for her ... she looks ecstatic and isn't that how everyone should be? It might also be because she hasn't had any kind of major job promotion, which makes me feel better about myself.

Same thing about my high schools' homecoming queen/sports champ, who is also now on my friend's list. She is a pampered stay at home mom, and I dont' feel envy or jealousy. I just want to be her!

Today I did something good - I went to this local and adorable japanese bakery and had a small but delicious dessert before I picked up the baby. Fabulous. I shall do it more often.

Calories, schmalories! I'm not going to worry anymore.

More gratefulness

Oh, thank goodness for small miracles.

I had placed an unexpectedly expensive order for the baby's halloween costume, only to find that the credit card declined because I put in the wrong address. I went back to the website where I'd ordered the outfit to find that they're offering free shipping for today only and I saved $10 on the new order! Woo hoo!!!!

Today's gratefulness journal entry

Today, Monday, I am grateful for

1. The shiny new IPOD shuffle I won that came in the mail - it's the most delightful shade of green and I LOVE the color green. It's going to my mom and will make her really happy.

2. That I can go to the beach in a matter of minutes! Woo hoo!

3. I asked my photographer a question and she is going to do me a huge favor. I am very excited about that!

Brunch

Today was my ex's day with the baby and in the spirit of showing the baby that he has a somewhat solid family base, I had brunch with him, my ex, and my ex-MIL. It was a calorie gorge and a good thing for me, because I tested my skills and reactions to my ex's antics, and I'm proud to say I passed with flying colors.

He wasn't being an ass, he was just being himself. And, after all these months of marriage recovery, I'm glad to report that I've fully recovered.

My first reaction upon seeing him was literally, ugh , what an ugly person. I remember when a friend of mine was divorcing, I was somewhat newly friends with her and another newer friend and I saw her ex and it was hard to believe she was with him in the first place - they were that different from each other.

Years later and I feel the same - what was I thinking? He is so mismatched from me. The ex was in a good mood and made statements about next time helping me buy a larger car and increasing my child support payments in the next months depending on how his career changes. I didn't get excited at all and I didn't really even care all that much about what he was saying - I've heard his rigmarole before times a thousand and it's all the same. He makes grand statements about his life plans, and he's always in the same place - in the spare room at his mom's house.

The day was great - I am very, very poor right now and can't spend any extra money. I finally checked out the neighborhood Japanese bakery which was SO cutie, but they only took cash and I didn't feel like taking a 20 out of the atm which is a good thing because I need that 20 in my account!

I don't know how I'm going to manage to pull the next 3 and a half weeks off - it's going to be that I either don't go grocery shopping at all or spend very, very little.

My ex's comments about increasing my monthly payments got to me a little later on -- it made me think, does he finally realize how ridiculous the child support payments he gives me are? $150 is not very much at all -- DOES he realize it, or are his promises of more just part of his same old same old schtick?

It's hard to tell, but I hope he does have a clue. I had a moment of tears yesterday as I was preparing to leave my mom and dad's house because the reality of my financial situation hit me hard -- the reality is that it is all on me to take care of my child and myself and to move ourselves forward.

These are hard economic times and it's easy to get pessimistic about the job situation. But, I have to keep my faith in my abilities and trust that the perfect high paying job will come along when it's time for it to come along.

I believe that something/s wonderful and life changing are going to happen soon because I am being followed by numbers and seeing signs everywhere. I am seeing 11:11, 11's, 1's, 3's, factors of 3, 10:10, 8:08 and others all over the place. All good signs for turning a new leaf and moving forward.

Numerology was never anything that interested me until I met an ex-coworker in the makeup world. There are a lot of hidden meanings that I've learned about - for instance, my life path number is 4 - it means that I am on last lifetime. Spooky, but intrinisically I know it to be true.

Two days in a row last week, my total at Trader Joe's was $8.08. There are some who would consider this purely coincidental, but I know there are no such things as coincidences and it's part of the universe sending me signs.

The signs are all pointing to this common denominator - things are going to be great for me, just great. It's just a matter of time, but I will get there. I know it. I've come so far already and it's just a matter of time before my dreams come true.

Today I was irritated because there is a scratch on one of the hubcaps of my new car. When I went to pick up the baby, I washed and vacumed my car at my ex-in-law's place and noticed it. I couldn't figure out where it had happened, but I realized that it happened when I went to the beach for the first time with my coworker. And I hate it! It is bugging me! I want it fixed!

I know why - because I want to have a NICE car for a while - as opposed to my last junker that I purposely kept dirty because it hid the scratches and scrapes better that way. I deserve a nice car! God wants me to have a nice car!

Ah well - I found out, via Facebook, that a former classmate of mine who was one year below me (and who's older brother was the subject of a lot of freshman obsession between me and my group of friends) was declared brain dead today. He was a cop, a married father of two, and while out on a pursuit, his patrol car wrapped around a light post and that is that.

There's no point sweating the small stuff.

Yesterday's life lesson

Yesterday I happened upon a quarter in the sand as I was just sitting down along the shore. Somewhere in between waves, I lost that little quarter. Easy come, easy go. Just like my marriage.

Gratefulness for the day

1. There was barely any traffic on the commute from mom's house to work and I got to work at a good time.
2. I got to go to Starbucks and pick up an iced tea.
3. My bank account is looking good. Even though this is a tight month, I am in good shape right now.

Re-energize

I'm trying very hard to think of things I can do to bring my energy level up. By the end of the workweek, I am a zombie of major proportions and can barely keep my eyes open past 9 pm.

Like last night, when I was at my parent's home alone with the baby and was struggling to keep my eyes open while playing with him. This kind of scares me, especially since I've been doing the same thing at home.

In the larger sense, I think this is over a year's worth of sleep-deprivation catching up with me. Maybe it's symptomatic of another problem. I'm not sure. But it's hard to live with.

My lunch time beach jaunts are a step in the right direction for me, but they're not helping much. A couple of years ago, when I was still able to work out in the evenings, I used my lunch periods to park my car in inconspicuous places and take naps, but now I do need my lunch hours for errands or work outs.

It's a hard trade off, this being a parent -- I have to work to make money for food, shelter, and transportation, but it leaves me so exhausted and tied up for that I can barely enjoy my free time.

Times like these make me wish for some kind of relief - any kind of relief would be good.

The good news is that I have a lot to look forward to in the couple up coming weekends - a wedding reception and a trip to a pumpkin patch. I am so glad I have them - it gives me a little bit of a boost and excitement.

Gratefulness Journal

Three things I am grateful for today

1. The food I've been eating today - - so far I've had my beloved flax muffins, half of a delicious dark chocolate bar, and right now I'm nursing a plate full of avocado and beefsteak tomato marinated with grapeseed oil and lemon pepper. Truly good food that I'm enjoying.

2. My upcoming walk on the beach. I am so excited for this.

3. My car - its reliability gives me tremendous peace of mind.

Three things I am wishing for today

1. That I find myself where I want to be - I know what it is and I'm holding it in my heart.

2. A little more disposable income.

3. More time to do things I really want to do.

Elaboraing further

So, I'm listening to Jay Z's "Hard Knock Life" on Pandora as I'm working away, and the other problem that I've been thinking about comes to mind.

Here's my hard knock life issue - I don't have anyone to complain to or listen to me in a way that would help solve my problems.

I guess I gotta work on acceptance - accepting that I am the problem solver of my life, and the sooner I work on that, the better!

Wishes

I remember reading an article in InStyle about Fran Drescher shortly after her divorce. She said the hardest thing to adjust to was not having someone around that automatically has your back.

Years later, that's stayed with me and right now I feel the same. In many cases (many, many, many), my ex did not have my back and did exactly the opposite of having my back, but I knew that he was THERE. Right now, there's only me, and even though it is so much better this way, it's hard.

Realizing that I'm the only one who can take care of me and my son ... that's a lot of weight to carry around. Yes, I do have my parents and MIL always there, but when the big decisions need to be made and the heavy lifting ... I really wonder what it would be like to not have all the pressure there.

Today I slept in big time, which is very rare for me. I ended up getting to work at an ok time, but it just messed up my schedule today. I wish it hadn't been so hurried, that I'd had some extra cuddle time with the baby this morning.

Wishing and wanting and hoping and praying.

Then, coming into work this morning, my friend unintentionally said something that put a damper on my day - it was the icing on the cake called frustration and even though she really didn't mean it that way, it just adds up. Pretty soon, there will be more icing than cake. Argh.

One thing I am looking forward to more than anything is my lunch time beach walk -- aaaah -- I can feel that salty sea air right now. It feels amazing. I feel lifted everytime I'm there, and wish I had more moments like that - but I guess the story is that I have to MAKE those moments happen. Or else, who will? I guess the moral of the story is that I have to be proud of mysef, because in the end, I have my own back, and always will.