Dear hope, f*ck off.

After my initial tears, I called my Mom.

We both agree this sucks and he sucks and it allllll sucks.

When I said “If this is all some part of an elaborate ruse I’m going to be really pissed.”

Mom accidentally brought the hammer down and said, “oh honey, don’t do THAT to yourself.” And with that, I firmly have told hope to fuck off.

I don’t want it. Hope. I want it to ball itself up into a crumpled heap and leave me alone.

So yeah, fuck off hope. You fuck right off.



A big box of nothing.

I gave Boyfriend his Christmas presents when he got home from work Christmas Eve morning and then again on Christmas morning.

I gave him a paw print ornament from Puppy (we made it together, she hated every second) and some shower stuff Christmas Eve. Then Christmas I gave him a couple movies and two new pairs of shoes that he was wanting.

He gave me nothing.

Technically, he gave me some Disneyland trading pins a few months back as they arrived, but those were because he thought I would like them (he’s been ridiculously into those damned pins). He claims that the stuff he ordered for Christmas haven’t arrived yet. Which means they are probably more damned pins.

I don’t collect pins.

I wanted an engagement ring. I want him to admit that he loves me so much that he’s over his other marriage and his problems with “the institution of marriage” and that he wants me to be his wife.

But that seems not to be.

I guess he did get me something for Christmas, a continued sadness that I won’t be getting to marry the man that I love and the complex that I’m not good enough for him. I know he feels bad that he had to go to work and leave me crying after we talked today, but you know what? Let him. If I have to live with the truth that he doesn’t want to be married (again) then he has to live with the truth that it hurts me and makes me sad.

It’s not right and it’s not fair but it’s the way it is. He’s not leaving me, I’m not leaving him. I just may remain unmarried in my lifetime. There are worse things. We have a life together and we love each other. The only things missing are engagement ring, wedding bands and a wedding.

Even though I know I deserve those things, I also know that I can live without them. And it looks like I will continue to do so.

Perfect Day Off

Returning to work in retail has been so wonderful for me, hard on my body but honestly, I’ve felt so much better about myself lately!

My calves are aching all the time, the bottom of my feet feel bruised, but I don’t hate going to work. Which feels so good! That being said, working retail during the holidays is less than fun most days.

People forget themselves, they forget their manners and they forget to be patient. But it’s alright, as long as you don’t work too long.

I worked 6 days straight. My body was screaming, but I packed a bag and went to Pole class after work and it was glorious! I finally executed a nemesis move, The Mermaid, which everyone else can do (it’s a Level 1 basic move and I’ve hated it always) and now I CAN TOO! I came home, took a bath and cuddled with Puppy.

Then this morning, sleeping past the alarm and relaxing most of the morning, lovely. But I had to get something done, so I BAKED!

I made my Grandma’s Cowboy Cookies, the ones she would make every Christmas when I was little.

I remember watching her make them when I was small, then helping when I was older. No one in the family remembers why they are called Cowboy Cookies, but that’s what they are called and they are absolutely some of the best chocolate chip cookies ever!

Sorry, but I won’t post the recipe, it’s too special to me. I’m sure you have special recipes from your family or friends that remind you of specific moments in your life; that’s what these treats are for me. Memories.

I give them to my friends and neighbors, I used to take them to The Cubicle Farm (I’ve already been messaged by my former co-workers that they are missing the cookies this Christmas haha!) and I’ll be taking them to The Store tomorrow to share my tradition with my new co-workers.

I’ve baked and baked all day, now I sit on the couch with a Doctor Who Marathon on the TV and Puppy snuggled so close to me you’d think she’s a part of my pajama pants. She even has her tiny paw draped over my leg onto the computer, like she wants me to hurry up and finish so she can get more cuddles!

I’d better comply, Puppy’s cuteness is starting to overwhelm me. 🙂

Sometimes Anti is better

I love my family.

All sides. From the crazy, colorful, funny and fearless side to the painfully repressed; they are my family and I love them.

But I don’t want to deal with them this year. I should, with the death of my Father and Stepmother, I should want to do nothing but be around my family.

But I don’t. I don’t want to be around my father’s side of the family right now.

I feel bad, but I also know that it is better for me to handle myself the way I know how and to leave them be. They can keep any judgements to themselves, which they will anyway because they are all “too polite” to actually have awkward conversations that might result in actual results. See above: re repressed.

They mean well. They make all the right moves and say all the right things but the truth is I’ve never felt much of a connection to them. We’ve ALL tried. But when you have almost nothing in common with family, that’s when the trouble starts. People have to be free to feel comfortable and not feel like they have to watch what they say in case they accidentally spark off a conversation that inevitably turns to money, religion or politics. Which, when you have zip in common, almost always ends up being the topic!

So instead, I begged off; claiming I had to work because I work in retail now (thank THE LORD) and stayed in bed late with Boyfriend and Puppy just enjoying every moment until Boyfriend had to go to work.

My dinner will be chips and salsa or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it will be delicious and satisfying. I might get up early and run to Target for a Black Friday deal on a sewing machine. But I might just stay in bed some more until I have to go to work myself.

I’m thankful that I gave myself that time. I’m thankful that my family might not understand but they accepted my excuse and didn’t push the issue. Truthfully they probably knew I wasn’t working, but that tendency towards repression worked in my favor.


My dad died in the kitchen of his house.
My brother has moved into that house since he’s pretty much getting a divorce and the lease was up on the house he was living in.
Brother’s friends have been amazing. They have rallied around him, assisting with everything from patching walls to re-doing the garage to helping him move all his stuff.
I did my best to chip in.
Until Brother asked me to unpack the fridge food into the kitchen.

I can’t step foot in the kitchen, not yet. The only way in or through the kitchen is right over where my father died. So no. I can’t go into the kitchen. I can go around it, the way the house is built makes it possible. Not through it though. I just can’t.

I know it’s ridiculous. I know I’ll get over it. Nobody is pushing me to get past that hangup. But I know that I need to. I just can’t help it. When anyone walks through the kitchen, I think about how I found my dad and it puts me right back to that place and I want to run screaming from the county. Yes, the county.

I’m glad Brother is living in the house, he’s fixing it up and eventually we’ll end up selling it I’m sure. But for now, I’m glad he’s living in the house he grew up in. That’s what that house is to Brother.

To me, that’s the house that killed my dad. So no, I don’t ever want to live there. Ever.

Sorry, dudes

I’ve been MIA for a few weeks. Memorial service, depression, gearing up for my Pole Competition. It’s all been a major endeavor.
I promise I’ll do better. Just keep coming back to read. If anyone is. It means loads to me.

Now THAT, I didn’t need

Last night Boyfriend asked if he could borrow my car to go to a work party. No big deal, I happily obliged under the condition that he not be home “too late” to which he joked, “Ok, so 4am not 6am”. Mildly amused, I said “Better not be home at 6am, I have to leave for work at 5:50am so…there ya go!” We laughed, he left. Eventually I went to bed.

In the middle of a disturbing dream where, at a party, I was being chased by Ryan Reynolds (normally, that wouldn’t be disturbing, but for some reason he was chasing me to explain how he’d been wronged in relationships and I just wasn’t interested, Ryan Reynolds! We’re at a party!) I awoke with a start and realized it was 2am. I reached over beside me and only felt Puppy, no Boyfriend. I pouted.

I called Boyfriend. I texted Boyfriend. No response. I started checking the police blotter LIKE YOU DO WHEN YOU’RE FREAKING OUT and couldn’t find any evidence of any accidents or arrests (tangent: found lots of burglary reports from the last few days, made me double check the house was locked tight) in any of the areas that Boyfriend might have been in or traveling through.

1st hour goes by. I’m trying to remain calm. I keep calling and texting sporadically.

2nd hour goes by: I’m in full blown freakout mode. I’m forming plans, I’m looking up recently dialed/incoming numbers from the records on our mobile account and deciding which ones I’m going to text AT 4 IN THE MORNING because DAMMIT, SOMEBODY must know where Boyfriend and my car are!

4:06 am; I text two numbers that I think are related to his work: I’m so sorry, I’m looking for *Boyfriend’s name*. This is his girlfriend. He hasn’t come home yet and I’m worried.

One replies back kindly, stating that they didn’t know where he was and that everyone left around the same time from the work party and that it was ok that I had contacted them. I felt really bad about sending the texts; but I was freaking out man!

It dawns on me: Maybe Boyfriend is out in the parking lot asleep in my car! Maybe I should have checked the parking lot before sending the texts to strangers…but oh well, it’s too late now. I leave Puppy in the big warm bed and go out to see if I can spot my car in the lot. At first I have no luck. I’m still panicking. But then, I go to the “special” parking area (two prime spots nearer to our house than any others in the lot, seriously, they are a HOT commodity with our neighbors) and LO AND BEHOLD, there’s my car. And laying down in the driver’s seat, Boyfriend.

My initial reaction was one of relief. And then came the fury. Ohhhh boy; the fury was HOT, guys. I marched right up to the passenger side window and BANGED on the doorframe (in order to cause maximum rumbling throughout the vehicle) and hissed, yes hissed “Are you SERIOUS right now??”

Boyfriend sat up with a start and started hooting. Yeah, you read that right. Hooting. I’ve learned that when Boyfriend is startled awake, he hoots. Like a trombone. If I hadn’t been so pissed off, I would have laughed.

After confirming that he saw me and realized how much trouble he was in and I don’t care if he’s confused, he’s in major trouble, I turned on my heel and headed back to the house. Crying an ugly cry. I was so angry and relieved that he was ok but SO ANGRY was winning on the Emotions Scale. I stood at the kitchen sink trying to slow my heart rate by taking long sips of water and sobbing into a paper towel.

And Boyfriend still wasn’t in the house.

I started getting irritated. Was I going to have to go out there again??? Yes. Yes I was. When I headed back out to see what the hell is taking so long, I saw Boyfriend doubled over some shopping bags. Apparently he’d stopped at the 24 hour Walmart and picked up some groceries before he’d headed home and passed out in my car in the f*cking parking spot. Disoriented, he’d dropped some and was having trouble picking them up again.

Again, if I weren’t so furious, I would have laughed.

I helped him pick up some stuff while I hissed at him some more about how dare he do this to me, and I hope your happy, I had to text strangers to see if you were dead etc. Boyfriend mumbled “Are you done yelling at me?” …normally, this is a joke that we share. I ask him something or tell him something and he’ll mock-whine “Stop yelling at me!” and it’s funny.

At 4:15 am, it’s not f*cking funny.
Promptly, I told him, “No, I’m certainly not done.”
We got in the house and had a small fight. He was irritated because he’d been woken up rudely; I felt ZERO sympathy considering the froth I’d worked myself into for the past 2 hours!
Then, Boyfriend said the unthinkable. “Over-dramatic much?”
My tears instantly dried for 2.2 seconds and I coldly stated, “Go f*ck yourself, if EVER I’m NOT worried about you or upset by something like this? Then we’ve got SERIOUS relationship issues!” and marched myself to the bedroom because, oh I had to be AWAKE in 45 minutes to go to work!
After a few minutes, a smoke and a text conversation with the two people I’d texted about him; Boyfriend came to bed.
He gingerly reached over to hold me and timidly asked, “Are you going to be mad at me forever?” and my heart melted. But I wasn’t finished being angry. “I haven’t decided yet” and I started crying again. As quietly as I could.
“Would it help to know that I am more angry with myself than you are angry at me?”
“Yeah, actually. That does help.”
We talked for a few more minutes, but not long because I still had to go to work shortly and I was desperate to get SOME sort of rest after the anxiety adrenaline had subsided.
He loves me, he knows I love him. But he also knows that this kind of thing just can’t happen anymore. ANYMORE. I told him that maybe we could download apps that tell us where the other is; because then maybe it might lessen my fear if this DOES happen again. But frankly, I don’t want to do that! I don’t want him to feel like I’m watching him all the time and that I don’t trust him! It’s NOT that I don’t trust him, I’m just AFRAID of something bad happening to him! Unfortunately, with the death of my Dad and Chatty; that kind of fear is worse now than it EVER was before. As much as Boyfriend says he understands and has been there for me; I don’t think he understands as fully as he thinks he does.
Ugh, I’m beat. I have an Energy drink clutched in my hand which makes typing VERY difficult but the only way I can function today. I’m insanely jealous of the sleep Boyfriend is currently enjoying and am really hoping that Puppy has to pee soon and dances the Cha-Cha on his face and jumps with ALL FOUR FEET on his crotch/belly area to wake him up. Which is not a nice thing to wish, but THERE IT IS. No no, I shouldn’t wish for that. Besides, I have a feeling that he’s going to get ALL KINDS OF CRAP today from the two co-workers of his I texted this morning looking for him. Even though he said that one of them gave him a text-lashing; I’ve got a sneaky suspicion they aren’t done reading him the riot act.