The weepy me from last night still isn't gone, but I have a more positive outlook, I think.  I slept late, but it didn't feel like late because I didn't fall asleep until morning. 

It's raining here... I wanted snow so badly for the holidays, but I guess it doesn't really matter.  I won't be here anyway.  I'm spending my normal Christmas Eve with my family, but after that we're going down to Georgia to spend time with Terry's family.  I'm looking forward to it, but at the same time, I'm quite nervous about it.  I'm stilling trying to get to know his family, and I'm terribly intimidated at times.  I don't normally let a situation intimidate me.  I'm a fairly confident person, but these people are important to me.  I want to be accepted. 

I would love to have a few bottles of IML's wine mystery gift.  I'm not sure how that would play out with my current medications, but I'd probably give it a try.  One thing I've learned about my friends here on Mo'Time is that I can always count on you all to make me feel better.  I'm very thankful for that. 

I have a mountain of things to do today.  I'll get to them.  At the top of my list would be the two scarves I have to have made before I leave for Georgia.  Never gonna happen unless someone wants to make one for me.  The things I get myself into... you'd think I'd learn.  Not even with age, apparently. 

If you all really wanted to help me, one of you start crocheting a scarf in bright vibrant colors, one of you come do my laundry... clean my house, and IML, don't forget the wine.

It was a happy brithday to me... honest. 

I debated about posting tonight.  I know I'll sound whiney or full of self-pity... or worse... ungrateful.  And things really could not be better for me.  I have much to be thankful for and I do know that. 

So I turned thirty-five a few hours ago.  And now, at 3am I'm sitting on my couch looking for comfort in the glow from my Christmas tree while reflecting upon the last thirty-five years.  I spent the entire day trying not to cry... praying not to become overwhelmed by emotions, both good and bad.  In the end my passionate side has won out, and the tears have surfaced.  I'm praying they will stop sometime soon so I can go back to bed. 

I imagine I'm just like everyone else in realizing that I've had my fair share of good and bad years.  It's sad how the bad ones always seem to be the ones that hang out in our memory for the longest time. 

It was a very understated birthday by normal standards, I suppose.  We didn't go anywhere or do anything specifically to celebrate a birthday.  Terry got me a really good chocolate cake.  I'm sure he would have taken me out had I asked. 

Honestly I spent the day pleasing other people, but that was by choice, and I do not regret it.  It was a warm and loving day.  I'm very satisfied with it. 

However, I think I'd expected a bit more... I don't know, for lack of a better word, attention... today.  That sounds so childish, I know, but I don't mean gifts or parties or anything of that sort.  I went out of my way this year to show my siblings how much they mean to me on their birthdays.  My sisters did call today to wish me a happy one... five minutes at most, quite obligatory, I'm sure.  I would have been so happy to have seen them... maybe hugged them.  My little sister came by to drop off my nephew and didn't even bother to get out of her car.  And I will brag that my mother called this morning and sang to me.  That was a far better effort than last year, which she forgot.  I won't focus on the fact that in order to remember this one, she called and wished me a happy birthday every day for the past three days... just to be sure.  I didn't hear from my dad or my grandmother... my brother... certain friends I was sure would ring up... but it didn't even hit me until tonight. 

Of course it hurts not to be remembered.  It has nothing to do with parties or gifts or tributes of any kind.  Sometimes you just want to be acknowledged.. have someone say, "Yes.  I know you're still here, and I'm sort of happy about that."  Isn't it strange that the people you try the hardest with somehow end up being the people the least impressed by you... or is that just me? 

I learned at a very early age that having a birthday five days before Christmas was a curse.  Not only are people broke, thus, no gifts, (which you do care about as a child) but they're also so stressed and busy they're lucky to remember to get dressed in the morning... never mind someone's birthday. 

What I choose to focus on are the things that made my day... the warm birthday wish at exactly 12:01 last night... the amazing post on a blog today... the sweet comments on my blog this evening... Terry's mom sent me a very pretty card... everybody sang "Happy Birthday" at the dinner table tonight... Bella told me I don't look too old... yet.

I can't help but wonder if I'll have thirty-five more years.  Will I make the best of the ones I do have... find a way to make the people around me happy to be... around me.  I have found peace and happiness in my life, finally.  I want to spend every day showing that and praying that everyone else might find their own, too. 

Obviously turning thirty-five is going to be harder on me than turning thirty was.  I don't know why.  I know I'm not old, and I don't feel old. 

Right now I feel thirsty and tired, and I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing crying and feeling sorry for myself at 3:30 in the morning. 

After all, at my age, I should be sleeping at this time of night.

My December calendar... (just to show IML what my month is like)  You'll see how busy it was even before we add in Terry's calendar, but now... oh my! 

December 4 - Jim's birthday

December 11th - little sis' birthday 

December 12th - Terry's Dad's birthday 

December 19th - Terry's parents' anniversary

December 23rd - my parents' anniversary

December 24th - Christmas Eve

December 25th - Christmas Day

December 29th - Dad's birthday

December 31st - Bella's birthday 

Can I just sit down in the middle of the kitchen floor and cry now???  ack! 

It's another birthday week in December... imagine that. :)

"Hey, girl, it's me. 

I just called to tell you hi. 

Call me when you get this. 

Haven't talked lately. 

So hard to find the time. 

Give the boys a big kiss.

Tell them that I miss them. 

By the way, I miss you too. 

I was thinking just today

about how we used to play barbie dolls and makeup...

tea parties, dress up. 

I remember how we'd fight

then make up and laugh all night. 

I wish we were kids again...

my sister, my friend. 

Oh yeah, before I forget, I met someone. 

I think I really like him. 

I was just wondering if I'm jumping the gun

by going out on a limb. 

Invited him home for Christmas to meet  the family. 

Seems like just yesterday

you brought home ole what's his name. 

He had been drinking. 

What were you thinking?! 

After dinner he passed out. 

We can laugh about it now. 

We've learned a lot since then. 

My sister, my friend. 

Do you think you could come and see me sometime soon? 

We could just hang out like we used to. 

It's late and I should go,

but I can't hang up the phone

until I tell you what I don't tell you enough. 

Even though at times it seemed

we were more like enemies...

I'd do it all again. 

My sister, my friend."

I think I may have gotten about three hours of sleep last night.  I tried to go back to bed this morning, but I couldn't.  In the exhaustion I got all weepy and tried to wake up Terry, but couldn't so I ended up in the living room sitting in the quiet. 

I think I was almost ready to doze off when someone knocked on the door.  There was a young girl on the porch asking if she could use my phone.  She was out of gas just up the hill.  I didn't even half way hear her at first because all I could see is that it's snowing.  The person she tried to call wasn't home.  While waiting for them to answer she was telling me about her situation... more information than I wanted, really. 

Apparently there was no heat in her car and her little boy was in it.  I was about to grab my coat and shoes to take her and her child wheverever they needed to be until she said, "I'm trying to get my man to his appointment and was gonna drop my kid off at my mom's house...".  It hit me... here are some people who have just run out of gas during the first freezing wet snow day of the year for us, and who gets out of the car to walk from house to house to find help?  Not the assmunch man.... this kid hardly old enough to be driving. 

You can't get the picture because you weren't here, but everything about them screamed "out of gas because we've already blown our state checks".  I didn't just base this on their appearances or the situation.... it was a combination of everything including attitudes. 

Maybe my exhaustion played a part in this as well, but I suddenly didn't want to be so friendly anymore.  I was bitter.  You see it so much in this area.  Babies having babies and then dropping them on grandparents' doorsteps so they can drive lowlife men around to hook up with this buddy to drink or that buddy to go hunting.  It frustrates me to tears. 

But looking at her and listening to her talk, I realized that sometimes this is just what happens.  None of the young girls around here wake up one morning and decide that's the day to get pregnant, sign up on foodstamps and welfare.  Things happen.  Life is full of disappointments, and I know from experience that chances are, no one is nearly as disappointed in them as they are themselves.  I know because I'm my worst critic, too. 

So I compromised.  I took her out to the garage and got her the gas can filled with gas that I'd remembered having in there for the mower.  It was full so I knew it would get her to where she said she had to go.  She thanked me and told me she'd bring my can back.  I stood on my porch and watched her go up the hill, put the gas in her car, and drive away.  The idiot male in the car never even offered to help her. 

I know things like this get to me so quickly because I watch family members struggle with it every day.  I have two sisters who are married to the same type of man.  Until Terry I was convinced it was just our fate to make really stupid decisions when it comes to men... something in our genes maybe.  My younger sister will be thirty-three this Sunday.  She got pregnant at fifteen and my exhausted misinformed backward parents let her marry at sixteen.  She's been married since then and has supported her family since then.  She works her ass off every single day to do the best she can, but it's never enough.  Without various support from our parents and myself... she wouldn't make it.  But she tries.  She doesn't just sit down and let everyone else do it for her.  She's trying.

My older sister is married to someone even worse.  Not only won't he work, but he is seriously addicted to drugs.  My mother told me yesterday that my sister had admitted to making the worst mistake by going back to him this last time, which was just a few months ago.  She'd left him... we'd moved her in a day.  I cried the whole time she packed her things from my basement to move back with him, but I didn't help her.  I couldn't.  I love her, but I couldn't help her do that anymore. 

Sometimes they resent me because they think I'm a snob.  It was never like that.  I just can't settle.  I've always admired their strength to hold on when I would have long ago let go.  And it would kill both of them to have to face the unknown the way I do when I take leaps of faith, but what they don't realize is, it would kill me not to take them.  So we all have our weaknesses. 

All of these thoughts almost ruined the joy I felt over seeing the snow, but not completely.  So now I'm sitting here on my couch with a cup of hot chocolate, in front of my fireplace, watching the snow fall.  It's big fat fluffy flakes, and it's so beautiful.  It's not even completely covering the ground.  It's going to stop soon.  It has already slowed, and the temperature is rising so it will only last a few minutes, but it's still beautiful... and soothing.  I need soothing. 

It makes me want to go wake Terry up to go Christmas shopping!  But if I couldn't wake him up for sex, I doubt he's gonna wake up to spend money.  We need more Christmas lights on the house.... and more hot chocolate... and marshmallows... and presents.... and Christmas lights.  Did I say Christmas lights already?  The snow is beautiful... so beautiful.

I was up really late last night, but it was by choice.  I was comfortable.  I was just walking down memory lane.  I was thinking about all the mistakes I've made in my life, and how people (even me) love to say they have no regrets.  But it's a lie.  We all have regrets.  It's just that some of us have learned to accept them for what they are, and that's stepping stones.  They've gotten us to where we are now. 

The bad things that happen in my life all happen for a reason.  Now don't misunderstand me, I don't take them willingly.  I'm not all sweet about finding the good in them.  I fight them every step of the way, but still, they are part of who I am.... past and present. 

The smell of Old Spice makes me throw up because someone couldn't keep his hands to himself when I was litle girl.  I still fight the urge to be a perfectionist just to get my parents to notice me.  I have lived in Kentucky, Tennessee, Florida, Texas, Montana, and Germany looking for a geographical cure to my fragile sanity.  I'm still sick.  I still find it hard to believe people can love me without expecting anything in return.  I hold on to the idea that nights are made for nightmares instead of sleep.  Being taught patience the hard way has not lengthened my fuse.  I ignite in an instant.  It still isn't easy to look at myself in the mirror after allowing my ex-husband to make me feel ugly and inferior.  Being told I could die young sometimes makes me wish for it. 

I could go on and on and on.  The fact is simply that I regret so much in my life, and it is part of my life, but it isn't where I live.  It isn't what I focus on... it doesn't dictate where I'm going. 

Where I'm going is somewhere wonderful. 

Who I'm going with is a dream come true. 

At some point this morning I closed my eyes knowing that I'm safe and loved... even cherished. 

There are plenty words to describe the bad, but nothing comes close to describing the good. 

I'm extreme.  I'll admit to being high maintanence but not in the stereotypical ways people normally think of a woman who's high maintanence.  I just refuse to be anyone but me.... good, bad, sane, insane... head to toe.  And he loves me just the way I am. 

Amazing.

December 4, 2006  

So about five years ago I was going through something pretty big.  I'd just made a huge decision to move across the country to try to save my failing marriage.  Obviously that didn't work, but I had to try even though it was kiling me to give up everything in order to make the move. 

During this time I met a man and quickly became close friends with him.  He wasn't having the best of times with a few things either, and I think we instantly bonded.  We pretended it was nothing more than witty banter and flirting because, well, that's what we do best.  Even today I'm a flirt.  I know this.  Terry knows this.  And even to this day, so is this guy.  He's a flirt!  He can't help it. 

He's also a dad and a husband. 

He's a corporate slave and a complete clown. 

He knows absolutely nothing about music, though I've tried my best, but he knows EVERYTHING about chess. 

He's a typical suck baby when he's sick, but he's soooo protective when someone he loves is hurting. 

He's so creative with a wonderful imagination, but logical enough to make you want to get him drunk and see if you can make him wear a lamp shade. 

Nobody, and I do mean NOBODY can play devil's advocate quite like he can.  I cannot count the number of times I've wanted to hurt him over the years just for that.  He forces you to see both sides of any situation whether you want to or not. 

Sometimes we go for weeks without talking.  Life gets in the way.  But I know he's always there, and I believe he knows that about me. 

There are so very few people in this world with hearts like him.  So few people with genuine love and compassion. 

So few people who can make me love them and want to smack the crap out of them... all at the same time. 

I have many acquaintances in my life... tons of them, actually.  But I have very few friends.  I have very few people that I hold close and thank god for every single night. 

People like him... who have seen me through good times and bad without blinking. 

I'm so very lucky. 

I just wanted him to know I realize how lucky I am that he's one of my few. 

I know him as freak, yuppie man, Mr. Wonderful, Jim... but most of the people who read my blog know him as Noble Knight. 

Happy birthday, darling man.  You are one in a billion, and I couldn't be happier that you've allowed me to be a part of your world. 

(By the way... is that an elephant in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?)

Sex, fudge, and narcotics...

Sounds illegal... at the very least, a porn.  How unbelievable is it that last night there were NO children in the house?  On any given weekend there is anywhere from three to eight kids at the house.  And while I love them all unconditionally, there are times when having the neighborhood kool-aid house just isn't fun. 

Out of nowhere last night, Terry, Bella and I were all hanging out... doing chores, actually, because it was the first time in a while that I've felt like catching up on things around here.  Of course, I overdid it and had to drug myself in the end. 

Just as I was starting to feel better the phone rang.  My oldest niece called to ask Bella if she'd like to come to her house for a slumber party!  Bella was tickled, and I was THRILLED.  This big huge house, all to ourselves?!  

Terry was so sweet.  He made me fudge.  We got hungry and actually got to go out at midnight for burgers!  It was a really good evening.  I haven't relaxed like that in forever. 

I feel better today... except I'm REALLY hungry.  And just when I thought Terry was perfect, he chooses to sit over there and watch me starve instead of going to get me food.  I'm in desperate need of food... chicken. 

Does he expect me to actually get up and make it?  Surely not.... 

He'll get hungry, eventually, right? 

Won't he?   

I'm not going to lie.  It has been a really rough few weeks for me, and I don't think the hard times are over just yet.  But, I've noticed I really complain a lot lately.  More than I used to, that's for sure. 

I don't mean to be such a whiney ass.  It's just that I was doing so well.  I was feeling so good.  And I guess I've allowed myself to build some sort of hope from that, and to have tiny doubts creeping back in hasn't been easy for me to handle.  Even now, my head feels like something is stomping around inside to find its way out whether I like it or not. 

Have you ever seen the Stephen King movie, "Dreamcatcher"?  If you haven't, unless you are twisted with a deep respect for horror flicks, don't watch it.  If you have, you know the scenes where the guy is running around in his own mind trying to keep the alien from finding the information that it needs in order to destroy the hero?  His mind looks like an old library, and he's frantically running from room to room to hide his thoughts.  Things are being knocked around, doors are slamming, glass shattering... that's how my head feels right now.  I have the alien and the man up there.  It hurts like hell. 

And my kidneys?  Well, if you've seen that movie, you know HOW the alien gets into a human's body.  (For those of you who don't, namely people like Jim in CO. who hasn't seen a movie since 1978  *I was seven*... they crawl up through their asses!!)  Instead of that happening, I feel like it found its way in through my kidneys.  To put it mildly, it hurts. 

When I got back home this evening I certainly didn't feel like doing anything, so I didn't.  We ordered pizza and bought some movies on the satellite.  "Take the Lead"... it was cute, but I won't sit through it again.... and "Friends With Money"... which is the ONLY Jennifer Aniston movie I would EVER sit through again.  Terry bought the video of "Superman Returns".  I think it was pretty good, what I can remember.  By that time the alien in my head and the one in my kidneys had begun to get restless, so I wasn't really watching the dude save the world.  But let me say this, while I was never a huge superhero kind of girl and I don't have a history to base much of an opinion about this movie on.... they could not have done better at getting someone to LOOK the part.  And that's pretty much all I remember about that. 

So now, I'm freshly drugged, (which is probably the reason I've allowed myself to write about aliens invading asses) and I'm getting ready to go to bed for the night.  Hopefully I'll sleep through the night and wake up to a better day tomorrow. 

In the meantime, if Superman is reading my blog... some snow would be nice.  Breathe in this direction.  Everyone else needs a break, right, Mernie?  :)