New Life

My feets were not very happy this morning when I discovered that my company uploaded a new firewall that keeps me from my blog and yours. Hrmph. I knew it was too good to last. I guess now I have to get up earlier in the morning to post some funny for you.

This is what my feet look like right now. Disney socks and purple slippers. I'm all kinds of stylish. I'm in for a quiet night. Apparently there's a radio station here that's giving away a free bathroom makeover. Gay Boyfriend is going to submit his bathroom and I'm going to submit mine. May the most disgusting bathroom win!

I was talking to my older friend J the other night. He's been living in this gal's basement for 17 years now. If the lady was a lesbian, it would be way too much like me and Gay Boyfriend and we'd have to call the Sci Fi channel to have someone check out the velocoflux capacator around here to find out what's going on.

Guess what? It's the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of my blog! Whoop De Doo! Thanks to Carrie for introducing it to me. Thanks to everyone that visits and comments. My life has been enriched by this venture and I'm glad you're all along for the ride.

And here's some much needed entertainment for you. I ask my co-worker today why 55 and 58 year old men wink at me on match.com. She says, "Well, they probably want someone young and feisty." And I say, "Well, that's like dating my dad or something." And she says, "You can learn to love a guy with money."

And then I burst into laughter.

But then I thought. That's not funny.

But it was.

One of the things we talk about in therapy is my intense fear of anger and conflict. That's why I've had so much trouble with the good doctor off and on. He can be mad at the world and just be blowing off steam - which has NOTHING to do with me, and I'll start bawling. If I'm even witness to someone calling another person out at the grocery store for cutting in line, I feel my face get hot and immediately I want to run. Two people arguing about something? I freeze.

And don't get me started on my response to someone being mad at ME! Instant tears. Uncontrollable sobbing. I just can't take it. And I can't talk when I'm crying, so there's no use fighting back. I asked Carolyn this morning how I'm supposed to go about changing that. And she really didn't have any answers for me yet.

Which frustrates me to no end.

The weekend was fabulous. I went to see Jesus Christ Superstar with free tickets thanks to Carrie! Fourth Row! And when I got home, I told Gay Boyfriend that I didn't care much for Jesus but I thought Judas was incredible and WAY hot to boot. He laughed and said, "You always go for the bad boys." Then I quick went to bed because I had to be up early for a trip to Minneapolis.

Yes, I drove to Minneapolis for a high school reunion of sorts. It was awesome! I haven't seen any of them since 1991/1992. That's alot of time, people. Alot. Peder and Sarah hosted us. Carrie knew I was coming and I was the big surprise for Holly, Laurie and Meigan and all their children. Seven little girls stole the morning. Girls - most of whom I've only known until then through pictures. Playing, laughing, a few bumps and tears, but when all was said and done, it was an amazing time. And the question was, "Why haven't we done this sooner?" Indeed, why not? And I have to say, I'm not sure that I would have been in a place that I could have shown up until this year. I was ashamed of my problems, ashamed of my lack of husband/kids/house/fabulous career, fearful that I would be judged or leave there feeling like a failure. So, in my world, it was perfect timing. Because all I felt when I was driving home was peace and joy in my heart because I get to be a part of these children's lives, from miles and miles away. It was an absolute treat.

Then I cooked. So go check out my other blog.

These are among the more boring socks my mom made me, but that means they GO with more things. And I'm pretty sure if you saw the rest of my outfit, you'd say, "What are you thinking, woman?" But that's okay. It's Friday, so I put all the happy clothes on, whether they match or not. In my universe they do.

I didn't exactly intentionally do anything to celebrate Jason's birthday, but it turned out well nonetheless. As usual for Wednesdays, I went to a meeting, and I met with a gal afterward. A woman that has not been able to string together much more than a few sober days at a time. A woman that at one time, traveled the globe with the Dead Guy, following the Grateful Dead. Yes. A woman that slept and lived with the Dead Guy for almost five years in various and sundry tents, shacks, hotel rooms and hostels. We don't talk about him much, but we both know the history is there.

So when I ask her if she's ever believed in something other than herself and she kind of giggles and says, "Well, I used to think the Grateful Dead was my higher power." I whip out the picture of the Dead Guy that I keep in my book and say, "Well, look what that higher power did to him."

And something clicked. I'm not sure what it was. I'm not sure if it means anything to her yet or if it ever will. But it did click that if she couldn't get this thing, she'd probably die the miserable disgusting death that he did. And if there's a way to commemorate his life, maybe that's it.

Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to the dead guy! Happy Birthday to you!

Do you sing happy birthday to dead people? And do you stop having your birthday after you're dead? I suppose you do. And then do you celebrate the dead day or the birthday if you want to remember them? What do you do?

No clue. But it's his birthday.

I promise more funny in the spring. Maybe you just want to come back then.

I am trying to watch the inauguration coverage online and my streaming is awful, awful, awful at work and it's making me very, very mad that I have to be here when I could be at home, watching it all on tv.

That is all.

Oh, and I may have teared up some when I was watching Joe Biden and his wife on Oprah yesterday.

*edit* I "watched" online and it was horrible. And because I was so irritated that I couldn't really see it, I'm not sure I listened. I'll definitely have to watch it again later. Definitely.

*another edit* It's Therapy Tuesday. That just MIGHT have contributed to the irritation. Yep. Carolyn ruined the inauguration for me. It's ALL HER FAULT. I kid. Sort of.

Chicken Rotini With Homemade Roma Tomato Sauce

There may have been not one, but two small fires on the stove. Yep. I'm ALL safety like that.

It's early. And I'm awake. And I'm not happy about it. Four thirty in the morning, the images assaulted me. Pictures of my life with him. Why today? Why anyway? I've put so much of it to rest. I thought I put ALL of it to rest. HE needs to rest.

Go away honey. Go quietly. Leave me be.

You've probably seen these before, but that's too bad. They're still my favoritist. AND they go with my green cashmere sweater. The ONLY cashmere sweater I own. The one I love. I will be taking donations for another one. I think I need one in hot pink. Then I could wear the socks with that one, too!

We're having a heat wave! It's above zero this morning - like three degrees! And Gay Boyfriend picks TODAY to go out and start my car for me. Not yesterday when it was -36, and not the day before when it was -24. Today. When it's 3. He loves me. He so totally loves me. Ha!

I'm going to play poker tonight. I know nothing about poker. I've played with friends where the highest bet was a quarter, but these are big people bets. And lots of lascivious married men. I was assured I'd be naked in no time.

I have been living with Gay Boyfriend for over a year now. Apparently I'm the longest lasting renter he's ever had. Must be my fabulousness, no? This works for us. It really does. I adore him to a point and he can put up with my mental breakdowns to a point. Which is why the fact that I can live here completely separately from him is a very good thing. I just go downstairs and lock the door. We have mostly separate lives. THAT'S the key.

Saratoga Jean was interviewed not that long ago and I succumbed to the thought that I have not been very entertaining of late and that I better get a move on if I want to keep my lurkers interested in reading. So. Here's the questions. Here's the answers. Now you will know me just a wee bit better. No?

1. What is an embarrassing high school moment you’ve lived through? Many of you know I was a super late bloomer in the dating department, but I did give it a whirl with one of my sister's friends (2 years older) when I was 15 or 16. I don't remember. I blocked most of it out. Anywhosits, there was lots of kissing and groping and I obviously didn't know what I was doing or know anything about my anatomy or sex. NOTHING. So, when I turn to him and say, "I have to go to the bathroom I think." And he says, "I think?" And I say," Well, it's kinda wet or something." I was shocked and horrified because I thought I might have wet my pants. He laughed. He SO TOTALLY LAUGHED. Because I didn't know what was going on with my own body. That was horrid. Completely and disgustingly horrid. I feel like that was TMI, but hey - it was one of the worst.

2. What is your favorite nickname someone else has given you? Princess. I know. I'm such a girl.

3. Which blogger would you be absolutely pee-your-pants excited about meeting IRL? Stoogepie. And he would probably want me to pee ON him, but I don't get that. It has something to do with the sexy that I don't understand.

4. You find an old oil lamp at a pawn shop marked $20; you haggle the proprietor down to $10 and buy it. After you bring it home and rub it (just for shits and giggles), a genie comes out. He tells you he is the pantry genie, and can bewitch your pantry to always be fully stocked, but only with the ingredients for one dish. Which one dish do you tell him to stock it up with? What are the ingredients? Can I have that lamp when you are done with it? (I know this is technically 3 questions. I apologize. The pantry genie gets me excited.) Homemade Cheese Pizza. But then I think I should just say pizza - because then I can manipulate the question. So homemade pizza it is. Crust mix, tomato sauce, white sauce, cheese - glorious cheese which in homemade speak means four kinds. Mozzarella, romano, parmesan and asiago. Then various states of chicken, pepperoni, onions, garlic and then the fixings for taco pizza which is the best pizza known to mankind. And yes, you can have the genie when I'm done with him. And I mean DONE with him!

5. Who would win in a fight between a unicorn and Dateline NBC’s Chris Hansen? (Keep in mind: the unicorn is abnormally strong, has a razor-sharp horn, and can fly; Chris Hansen has the power to read minds and also has a pet phoenix whose tears can heal any wound.) Explain. I don't watch tv. Like ever. So I have no idea who Chris Hansen is? So I'm going with the unicorn because anything that has razors and can fly has got my back.

Hey! Thanks everyone for the delurking. I love to read about people's lives you know, and now I've got some more people to stalk. Really, no. But um. Maybe. Sorry. I should have warned you.

It's Therapy Tuesday! And later on this morning, I get to see the crazy doctor because I still take happy pills for the crazy. I was trying to come up with some sort of list to complain about, but really? There's nothing to complain about to him. Hrmph. Even my friend Tiny who used to call me Crazy Kate, now calls me Not So Crazy Kate. I want a better nickname.

Go.

It's delurking day in the blogosphere. I almost forgot until I went to read rudecactus. So if you visit me, I would love to know. Because most of you know - if you read and comment on my blog, I do the same for you. This blog thing has become a wonderful place for me and I hope it is for you too.

So if you frequently leave comments, please do so again today and tell me what your favorite vacation has been. If you've never left a comment before, please do the same. I'd love to get to know you.

You know you've arrived in heaven? hell? psychotel? unending singleness? wherever I happen to be today, when you get a new toilet seat and it makes your day.

I am not currently wearing my slippers because I am at work, but these are my brand new knitted-by-mom felted wool mary jane slippers. My birthday never ends! Please ignore the weird ankles. I don't know what's up with that.

Okay, I read all your responses to my match profile. Apparently I need to do some major revision. It's frustrating to me because I try to sound all strong and sassy. Probably to convince myself that I AM strong and sassy. When really? I'm probably not all that. I'm probably more Susie Homemaker than I really want to be. This whole marketing yourself when you really just want to BE yourself is what bothers me. But like I said, the UPS man is not that hot and there's not that many men that I come across on a daily basis that are either available or appropriate. So, I'm diving back in. But I don't even know where to start. I did delete a comment that you all did not see - only because it highlighted some online safety things I probably should look at. Others of you mentioned it too. I heed your advice!

So, I'll work on it and get back to you. I'm feeling the apathy sink in now. Hrmph.

I'll give you an update on the profile when I sort through all the suggestions. Thanks so much! Here's a blast from my past.

I dated a man for about four years when I was in my mid-twenties. We pretty much lived together, but I kept a separate address for God knows whatever reason now. I guess working for the church kinda made me want to look holy or something. Even when we all knew I was being very less than holy on a regular basis. He's the one that liked to have sex while we were watching Star Trek The Next Generation. Yep. I have a very intimate relationship with the Borg. WTF? Are there other men out there with that kind of fetish? Seven of Nine really turned him on.

Anyhooters. He had recently bought a home and was working on improvements. Gutting the kitchen, painting the whole damn place inside and out, and my favorite project - building the deck! Most of our weekends were spent at Home Depot, Lowes, Menards - all those great intriguing places that women love to go to. I finally got to the point where I'd just take his eight year old son, we'd buy some candy and go sit in the lawn and garden section and watch people. I couldn't stand the endless looking for the exact-right-nail-I-suddenly-need-another-power-tool Saturdays anymore.

So one fine spring day, he's looking for lumber. We're driving from place to place and no one has the kind of wood he wants. I'm getting frustrated. I can't stand that I'm spending yet ANOTHER Saturday at home improvement stores. So I pipe up. "What about that new place they've been advertising - The Lumberyard?" And he looks at me funny and says, "Really?" And I say, "Yeah - I guess it's right outside of town by the lake." And he says, "Okay." And he kind of snickers and turns the truck in that direction and off we go.

We get closer and he says, "So, where did you hear this commercial?" And I told him it was on the radio alot. "What do they advertise?" he asks. "I don't know. Just that it's a lumberyard. Where real men go to get wood. That's their slogan." And just as I finish, he pulls into the parking lot of a horrible looking building on the side of the road and points to The Lumberyard.

It's a strip joint.

Where real men go to get wood.

How I ended up this naive, I will never know.

Okay, I took a break from the online dating world (or any dating world for that matter) over the holidays. I just couldn't do it. In fact, I didn't WANT to do it. It takes energy to meet new people. And I was tired. But I figure if I want the relationship, I have to keep trying. Hrmph. So. I need your help. Here's what's on my match.com profile. Please read, please suggest changes and please - if you know the perfect man, send him to my blog.

about me:
If you're shy - don't bother, I need someone strong to complement me! I'm independent, opinionated and some people would call me intimidating, but that's who I am and to be any different would be a tragedy. Because I'm tall and educated, I want someone to dwarf me physically, emotionally and educationally. I guess to keep in me check! I've got a softness of emotion about me that I share with those I love - I've spent a lot of time trying to get over my emotions, but now I tend to embrace them. With that said, I tend to do everything in my life intensely. I have a vibrancy that I have yet to see matched, and that's what I'm looking for. Have a life! Live your life! And then bring me along for the fun!
for fun:
My favorite summer activity is camping with friends. I'm a tent camper, and have all the goods for a great long weekend outdoors. Reading and listening to music come in a close second, but I can do those WHILE camping, so that's a terrific bonus!
my job:
I work for a surgeon.
my ethnicity:
I'm an Irish German. I love my pale skin and bright blue eyes. Burning in the sun? Not so much.
my religion:
My spiritual life is very important to me. I spend quite a bit of time reading and reflecting, but I'm not a big church goer.
favorite hot spots:
People say Sioux Falls has nothing to do. I'm out to prove them wrong! There are so many little restaurants, concerts, activities, speakers, hiking trails and more out there to explore. That's my favorite thing to do - find something new!
favorite things:
I love little town celebrations! Whether they're celebrating strawberries, some sort of meat, their heritage, or a special drink, I just like people watching and little towns are the place to do that! That, and cooking. Trying new recipes always!
last read:
"Broken" by William Moyers. It's a true story of addiction and recovery. Very moving. '

And then there's various and sundry pictures of me. You all know what I look like by now, so no need to attach them. I have the feeling there's too many exclamation points in my summary. Phht. I'm no good at this.

So, I may be 36 years old, but I am light years away from being the adult I thought I would be. There have been many tearful nights about that. Yes, there have. I'm single. Never been married. I have no children - both things I thought would order my life way back in the day. I would dream of the children, the husband, the house, the dog. None of that has come to pass for many and various reasons. And I use that to feel badly about myself on a regular basis. Hence, the therapy. You see?

Anyhooters. Today I am sober, I am mostly sane, I am single, have two cats and live in Gay Boyfriend's basement. Which is just fine. Not what I want, but just okay for today.

My parents are into antiques. On any given day in the spring and fall, my mother is out in the garage, stripping or staining some "find" that they purchased on a whim. My bedroom set came from an old hotel in Ottumwa, Iowa. My kitchen table came from a dump in Nisswa, Minnesota. My lamps, from various and sundry garage sales - stripped and repainted, rewired and redone.

I like that I'm a bag lady like that. I pick things up on the fly and make them mine. My father decided to start making bookshelves in his old age, and I was the first recipient of such bookshelves. They are incredible. And if you haven't noticed by now, I have a strange affiliation for books. They are my friends. But Santa gave me some money. And I freaked out. My money is ear marked anymore. I'm trying my dangdest to pay off my credit card debt and every dollar is budgeted for it's purpose. So when I got monies that I was supposed to spend on something I was unable to afford - I felt a little out of sorts. I asked "Santa" several times what he thought I should do with it. Car payment. No. Credit card payment. No. I was to spend it on something I wanted but could not afford.

Ack. What to do? I've long wanted to get rid of the coffee table which was at one time Jason's. The combining of our households necessitated me getting rid of things and embracing his. But in Tiny Apartment, the coffee table just didn't fit. I had this idea that a big old ottoman would be better suited to the comfort. And when Santa told me to think about furniture, I glommed onto it. So we went to "look."

First off, we went during the Vikings game, and none of the salespeople wanted to help us. But one guy begrudgingly came and helped me unstack some of the ottomans in a corner, then went back and told us he'd come help us at halftime. Ha! We looked, I pointed. "I like that SIZE, but not that COLOR." and "I'd really like leather, but there's no way I can afford that." and "Oh! I like that this one has storage in it." By halftime, we were ready to leave and the dude pipes up. "How would you feel about cream leather?" and I'm all like, "Sure!" Thinking, there's no way, but I'll look. He leads us to a dark back corner and from behind this huge couch he pulls the perfect creamy leather three foot by three foot square ottoman that the top comes off of and has storage in it. I look at my friend and give her the eye that says this is it! This is TOTALLY it! Everything I had in my mind's eye, but I can't tell HIM that because I have no idea how much it is! And she's nodding and asks him FOR me, "How much does something like that go for?"

"Hundred bucks." And I start squealing! And then say, "What's wrong with it?" Because clearly there has to be something wrong with it. And he says it came with a set and the owner just simply didn't want it and left it there. And I was sold. Completely and totally sold and I bought it and after much rigamarole of finding someone with a large vehicle, I got it home and it's perfect. Completely perfect and exactly what I wanted. And people? This is only the second time IN MY LIFE that I've bought a piece of furniture BRAND SPANKING NEW! And I'm ecstatic.

Because I can be.

I am NOT happy that it is Monday.

Here's the update on the fantabulous birthday weekend that didn't seem to stop. Maybe that's why I'm mad. The party's over, people. Over. Hrumph.

Friday night, we went to eat at Hu Hot - the Mongolian Grill. I was disappointed that there was no raping and pillaging; I was hoping for a more vibrant experience. But the food was awesome and the free birthday dessert? It was crab rangoons - only they were filled with cheesecake stuff and smothered in chocolate. I shoved several in my mouth.

Please note the new layered "do." It's sexy. On Saturday, one of my friends arranged for a birthday cake to be made and brought out to Tallgrass, where we ate lunch (yummy!) and again, shoved dessert in our mouths at a high rate of speed. That my friends, is a Strawberry Trifle - the likes of which I have never had before. It was incredible.

Then we played games all afternoon! Saturday night, I babysat, which is always a treat for me. I loved every minute of it. And Sunday? Well, Sunday seemed to be the day that all the people in recovery who decided to go out and party over New Year's and then couldn't stop drinking again, came back to a meeting. There was much bawling and please-help-me-what-do-I-do-nows followed by the pancake breakfast at the legion (you see how much eating was going on, right?)

THEN? I made a purchase. But more about that tomorrow, because you have to see the pictures. I'm so very proud! In the meantime, I will suck it up and get through this Monday. The first Monday of my 36 year old existence. Pity is not necessary.

Skin and bones, don't fail me now.

I have treated you so badly. I doused you in alcohol for years. I've filled you with countless antibiotics and antidepressants. (And don't forget the anti-psychotics and anxiety medications which they used over and over in an attempt to bring me back to the land of the living.) Because of that, your liver still hurts on occasion. You never fail to remind me of my life of excess. Sometimes you're a bitch like that.

Lungs, you deserve a special apology. I've been smoking for years. I know you hate me for that - because you send me sinus infection after bronchitis after pneumonia in a reminder that I'm just being stupid every single time I reach for my lighter. I'm sorry. I promise I will give it more than a girl scout try this year to stop hurting you.

I've fried you in vain attempts to have the perfect tan. I've scrubbed and scraped at your skin trying to get that perfect complexion. I've cut you. On purpose at times - in that black hole of depression I now call alcoholism. I moisturize you on some days and not on others. However, I do cherish your wrinkles around the eyes. They tell me that I have - whether I believe it on some days or not - lived a life of laughter.

I've alternately starved you and filled you with horrendous food as I cycled through fits of anorexia and not caring what I looked like. You responded with stretch marks. I don't cherish those like I do my wrinkles. No. I don't. You can stop doing that anytime.

I've given up on exercise. I've given up on good sleep. On occasion, I try once more to give your muscles and your heart what they need. Cardiovascular strength? Um, no. I'm sorry. I know you want to rest more than you ever have before. Naps are more a necessity than a treat. And it's only because I was so oblivious to your needs in my previous life. You like alot of sleep. Mom used to send you to bed long before the other kids because she knew this. I was a brat and didn't believe it. I do now. You tell me without reservation when it's time to slow down.

I've filled your mind with vast amounts of knowledge and drivel. The synapses that run through your brain are hard and fast. I like you. I like your mind alot. In fact, I do believe you're my best feature - but don't tell the rest of them. They might revolt.

You are now bionic. My rod and bolts - they comfort me. Someday we'll have those removed and an attempt will be made to fix your knee that locks up in angry fits of bitterness. That was a very unfortunate accident, but you responded with a whole body kindness that took to crutches and physical therapy with abandon. Thank you for that.

You are still here. You still work. And I apologize for how awfully I have treated you. You have seen me through what I hope is the worst of times. You don't want to work the way that I want you to anymore, but that's okay. You're tired and you're worn. You've lived. And I've finally joined you on this journey that is life. I pray you keep on hanging in there with me. We've got a lot of time left to spend together.