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Meet your Special Someone™
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Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........
All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.
That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.
The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.
My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..
Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry
Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life
Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use
Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness
Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life
You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.)
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| Letting Go of Fear |
Apr 23, 2008 10:18 pm
876 Views | I did not write this series of posts for anyone to feel sorry for me...or worry about me. I am fine. I am working through the last elements of fear I need to let go of so that I can keep moving forward. I have to let this fear out...and I have to let it go. If I don't...I will always be its prisoner....and I refuse to do that.
I had not intended to write this story...but it has been weighing heavily on my mind the last few days. As we get closer to the end...the spiral begins and I have to face my own demons.
Simply wish me strength....it is all I need. | |
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| Finding Strength |
Apr 23, 2008 10:04 pm
650 Views | She stood at the window and gazed out at the mountains surrounding her home. It was a beautiful view but one she could not see. There was no distinguishing the raindrops rolling down the window from the teardrops sliding down her cheeks. It had been so many years...and she had never tried to escape. What held her bound to this man who beat her whenever he chose; who broke her with his words and bound her back together...still with new pieces missing....with his apologies.
It was never his fault that he hurt her...not his words, not his actions. He was tired, he hurt, he was depressed, his medicines were not working properly, she was disobedient, she was stupid, she was lazy....anything except the truth...that he took some kind of twisted pleasure from hurting her. She stared into space and wondered...if this was what was meant for her life. Had she been born to be...just a victim to everyone? Was that possible? Why wasn't she strong enough to fight back...to run away...to defend herself?
It wasn't that he was a huge man; she knew that she could fight back and have a chance of winning but he had taken a great deal of care to show her how weak she was compared to him. It wasn't that he was a smart man...except...that he seemed to have an uncanny knack for choosing the words that would hurt her the deepest...and an equally uncanny ability to know when he needed to back off and stop hurting her for a time. Back and forth the pendulum swung....love her and keep her close for a few weeks and then terrorize her for a month. Keep her off balance and you can own her. Did she really intend to be owned?
She'd learned to move in silence. A wrong word could bring swift retaliation. A wrong step could lead to unexpected destruction...of her...their home...everything she believed in. It was much simpler to not speak but the tension in the home was incredibly high and she often wished she could just drive her car over a cliff and let it all go. She was such a coward.
She learned to drive very fast, tempting fate every time she got in the car and drove onto the highway. Faster...see how fast the car would go. Would she blow a tire at a high speed again? Would she miss that tricky turn before she hit the next town? Could she control the car? Did she want to? Was she learning that she could have control....or testing fate with her life in her hands? She had no sense of which answer was right...only that...it was one thing he couldn't stop her from doing. And so...she drove faster.
Still, she did not want to die. She wanted to believe that live contained something more than what she had found. She wanted to believe that dreams could come true. She wanted to believe that she deserved soemthing more...than fear...and unhappiness. But it never seemed to come her way. It must be something wrong with her.
How many people had hurt her? Too many....too many.... You can't blame everything on everyone else. When it happens over and over again...you are doing something to cause it. What could she be doing to cause people to need to hurt her? What was so wrong with her?
Her head rested against the cold glass and she felt the soothing chill against her skin. She wondered how long whe would continue to stay...in a place where she felt so worthless. And then...she wondered...if she really was worthless.
When she got angry...she could feel that what was being done was wrong...unfair...unjustified. She would begin to plan to escape. She would make arrangements, save money, prepare for the day she would be able to leave..and then he would tell her again....how worthless she was...with his words...with his fists...with his anger....and the fear that he was right...would break her down again.
It is an amazing feat...that one person can use words to strip away all that another holds dear...and yet...it happens...every day...across the country. It is made worse when women realize that other women...just like them...are being stalked, beaten, and even killed...by men just like the man they had married. Could they ever feel safe....or would they live in this fear...always?
And sometimes....it is as simple as knowing...that if you don't escape...you will die....and suddenly....it doesn't matter any more how you will live the rest of your life. If he hunts you down and kills you....at least you tried...at least you escaped for a time. And so...you decide....to run away...or do it openly. And she decided to ask for a divorce...openly...because she didn't believe in the lie implicit in running away. She believed she needed to stand tall and show him...that she was strong enough...to walk away from him.
And she did.....for a time....
It was a conscious choice to walk back into a house with him....a misguided choice, but one made in order to help both of them. She did not stop to think....how hard it would be....to walk away...a second time.... It would take years...and in those years she would have to learn to forgive...to let go...to heal....and in that healing...she would learn....the reasons behind her choices...and she would gain...the strength to stand firm.
But this is a step she must take alone...in order to teach herself....that she can do it...that she is strong enough...that she can win....she can control....the turns her path takes.
And she will. | |
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| Learning Silence |
Apr 23, 2008 9:36 pm
709 Views | Leaving Marge's apartment, she wondered if he remembered having hit her. Sometimes he would simply let the abuse end with a single slap; still others, he would continue to berate and abuse her until his temper had expired. He did not speak as he drove to their home and she felt the tension growing rapidly. She would do anything to please him; anything to stop him from getting angrier.
"Did you have a good time visiting?"
"Except for your baby act."
She knew better than to respond to that. Instead she turned her head and gazed out the window wondering what she had done so wrong that he had felt free to slap her in front of Marge. Perhaps it was only to show Marge that he could control her? Her hands trembled in her lap and she clasped them more closely determined that he would not see her fear. She detested how weak she was with him. How could she ever allow any man to hit her? Why did she stay in this marriage?
The ride home was completed in silence. Unlocking the front door, she entered the house only to feel him shove her forcefully into the living room. Turning, she looked at him. "What? I haven't done anything."
"You made me look weak in front of my family."
"It is not strong to hit a woman. Why did you hit me?"
"Did I say you could talk back to me? Shut your mouth!" The back of his hand connected with her cheekbone and she was flung across the room. Catching herself on the stair railing, she stood tall and asked, "Why do you need to hit me? What have I ever done to deserve this?"
"You are a stupid b*itch and you get what you ask for." The words were growled low in his throat as he reached for her shoulders. She took a step back from him just as he pushed her and she fell....endlessly...in a tumbling ball....down the stairs.
When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was laying on the basement floor. She felt as if every bone in her body was broken. He was on his knees beside her, crying that he hadn't meant to hurt her. She cried out as he pulled her close into his arms and begged her to forgive him.
Whispering, she murmured words that gave him all he asked. As he lifted her to her feet, he pulled her closer into his arms and began to make love to her. She shuddered as his hands touched her, too frightened to deny him; too hurt to encourage him; silence was her only response. And in time...she would learn that silence was often the only response she could make...to any of his actions. | |
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| Control |
Apr 23, 2008 9:15 pm
583 Views | The apartment was filthy. It always was. Marge was a half-azzed housekeeper with four young children. It might have been an acceptable excuse to blame the dirty house on the time spent caring for the children, but she was an even more half-azzed mother and rarely spent any time with them. Instead, they ran free and wild, destructive, dirty, uncared for.
They did not visit often. Marge was his brother's ex-wife, but the children were still his nieces and nephews. She loved to play with the children; holding them, mothering them, showering them with free kisses. The children loved her and often crowded around to crawl up in her lap and listen to her tell stories. Still, she hated to walk into the unkempt apartment; to see the roaches on the floors where the youngest boy played.
They sat at the kitchen table talking to Marge about everything that had happened to her since their last visit. Marge was a loud and outspoken woman who cared not at all who she hurt with her harsh words. It was not uncommon to hear her screaming at her children, threatening broken arms and legs if they did not obey her. The woman had never seen Marge hurt the children so she assumed it was only words; but she knew all too well how deeply words could wound. She wished she could find the words...and the confidence....to tell Marge how horrible the words she used on the children were. She had been taught better.
As they sat and visited, Marge exclaimed that she was hungry. The man offered to take her to a local fast food restaurant and buy lunch for everyone; an offer that was readily accepted. Fast food was an almost unknown treat in that welfare household. It was only a short time before they were back and the children had been fed.
Marge served the burgers and fries on plates with knives and forks. Each of them unwrapped their burgers and the woman lifted the bun off hers to find mayonnaise smeared across it. She took the knife and scraped all the mayannaise she could off the food. The man glared at her and said, "It's fine. Eat the damn thing."
"I don't eat mayonnaise." She almost always spoke in a near whisper except when she was alone with the children. "It makes me sick. This will be fine."
"Put the mayonnaise back on the bun." His voice was harsh, louder, demanding.
"Excuse me?" She was incredulous. He had been angry before, but never in front of witnesses; never over her refusal to eat mayonnaise.
"Put the fecking mayonnaise back on the bun."
"I am not eating the mayonnaise."
"You have to make a big deal out of everything."
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make this a big deal, but I can't stand the taste of mayonnaise. You know that." As she spoke she reached for the salt shaker.
"You don't need any salt on that burger."
"Excuse me? When did you start telling me when I can use salt?"
"Put it down."
"I have no idea what's wrong with you, but if I want to use salt on my burger....I will."
He reached across the table and slapped her so hard she flew from the chair. The salt shaker landed on the floor beyond her. Tears filled her soft eyes as she looked up at him disbelievingly.
"What was that for?"
"I've told you that you don't talk back to me. You will learn that. The burger is salty enough. You don't need to add any to it." He picked up her knife and smeared the mayonnaise back over her burger. "Now eat the damn burger and shut up."
"You know...I don't think I'm hungry any more. Thanks anyway."
He stood up swiftly and moved to stand over her. Bending, he grabbed her arms and jerked her upright. His hands squeezed her arms until tears ran down her cheeks. "Sit your azz down and eat the burger. Now."
She looked at Marge for help but Marge continued to stare at the wall beside her. She would never take the woman's side against her ex-husband's brother. She too was afraid of him.
The woman sat and slowly ate the burger. She did not look at anyone in the room, but kept her head bowed so that no one would see her embarassment, the hand-print on her cheek, or her tears. The food was as dust in her mouth....still...she ate it. | |
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| Not waiting anymore..... |
Apr 22, 2008 10:04 pm
816 Views | Do we ever stop and think about just how short life really is? We feel like it will last forever...and in a sense...it does...our personal forever. Still, it is a very short forever.
I went for a walk today and I was thinking about the idea that I am 46 years old. I think it was the first time I ever really focused on the number. 46. Realistically...more than half my life is gone now. What have I done with it? Have I accomplished anything I wanted to do? How much more can I realistically accomplish?
I remember being young...and feeling like I had so many tomorrows ahead of me to change...to do...to live...to be. Those tomorrows run out a whole lot faster than we realize. I remember thinking...I'll diet tomorrow...I'll go to Scotland...someday....I'll have time to relax...eventually. When does someday come?
One of the lessons I've tried very hard to teach my daughter is that events in life often only happen once. Perhaps today you have the opportunity to go to a great concert...but it's going to leave money a little tight. Maybe tomorrow that band will break up and you will have lost the opportunity. It seems that it is an important lesson we need to learn...not to put everything off. If you have the opportunity...and it's not going to hurt anyone if you take it...by all means...take it.
I walked a little further and thought about a man I once loved very much. He was...a very giving, caring, gentle man filled with laughter and a wee bit wild. Sometimes he intimidated me with his playfulness. He was also...substantially younger than I. It was not something I wanted or was looking for...it just happened that someone came into my life and showed me how I could be loved.
Have you ever met someone who just called you out of the blue...early one morning...to ask what was wrong...because they had felt you needed them during the night? He did...and I did...and it was ok...but it shocked me to get that call. Or to tell me...today nothing can go wrong because it is your day. It doesn't mean nothing went wrong...but it didn't matter because I felt special that day. Still...there came a time when nothing felt real...or right...and I walked away from the relationship.
I wasn't really thinking about him...as much as about...time. Should I have jumped deeply into that relationship when it was offered...and taken what pleasure I could gain from it while it lasted....or was it the better move to walk away and leave both of us...with some threads we could hang on to? It was the most difficult decision I ever made.
Today....for the first time...I really thought about the idea...that my tomorrows could end....today. I could...never again have the chance to experience love in a way that was meaningful...and I passed by that opportunity.... Just the thought. Just for a moment.
We all do these silly things...buy things for...that special day...that special date...that special moment....things that touch us so deeply we want to save them for something special. I have a few things that are that way....and today I wondered...what I was saving them for. Maybe that special moment happened long before I got that thing. Maybe it will never happen. If so...why did I bother? Maybe...wearing that sexy nightgown...just for me...will make that night something special...just for me...because I will feel beautiful. Maybe using that china will make that dinner something special...just for me...because I will feel pampered. Maybe I need to stop wanting to find the special moment...special person...special whatever...and simply live as if I had it...right here...right now...even alone.
Maybe I'm letting life pass me by...for no solid reason...only because...I am afraid to live. Maybe it's time...to stop waiting for life to come to me....and just experience it...one moment...at a time.... | |
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| Healing Hands |
Apr 20, 2008 11:03 pm
708 Views | My fingers are so cold right now. It's been cold and snowing all day and I have simply stayed inside working on finishing the cleaning in the dining room. The bird cage is cleaned and the room has been organized so that I can paint the first half of it. Can you feel how excited I am? No more cream walls.
I just finished washing dishes and watering a plant. Rinsing the sink out in cold water chilled my hands until my fingers are painful. I take a cup of coffee and wrap my stiff fingers around it to thaw them out. Look at the time. It's much too late for me to still be up and about, but I needed to have this room feeling...perfect...before I went to bed.
A nice hot shower does much to soothe my aching muscles and leave me feeling fresh and clean. Brush my teeth....run my fingers through my hair...and I am so ready for sleep.
The house is silent as I move through it turning off the lights as I progress. The nightlight in the hallway leaves just enough light for me to maneuver around the corners and make my way to the bedroom. You look so peaceful as you sleep.
I crawl into the bed and turn the light off...then slide closer to your back to draw from your warmth. A soft groan and you shift slightly.
"Hey you." I kiss the back of your neck as I whisper. "Want a back rub?"
"Oh yeah. That would be so great."
Turning the light back on I take the oil from the cupboard as you move to the center of the bed. The oil is cold when I pour it on your back and you are quick to complain.
"Big baby." I smile as I softly laugh at you and begin to rub the oil into your shoulders. My hands are strong and firm and I work the aching from your shoulders and neck slowly with my thumbs. The little sounds of relaxation you make assure me that I am working deep enough to get the knots out of the muscles.
Twisting the heels of my hands slowly, I move them down either side of your spine and hear a deep groan as I reach the places your back is most sore. My fingers work at the tense muscles until I can feel that they are fully relaxed and then I take a little longer to ensure that I have worked all the soreness out of you.
You smile as I kiss the back of your neck and whisper..."All done...feel better?"
"I think you missed a place...right there at the top of my hip. You need to start over and do it right."
"Let me show you what happens to people who whine...." I laugh as I drop onto the bed beside you and tickle.....
You capture my hands and hold them still and as I look in your eyes....I realize that I am not so sleepy after all.....and your hands are....as healing as mine..... | |
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6 Comments | |
| 13 Days |
Apr 20, 2008 2:28 pm
691 Views | I'm struggling to keep my...temper. Send laughter. We did indeed talk about what would or would not be done here before he leaves...not much will be done, I think. He's far too busy on his computer talking to a couple of women he thinks he's going to meet. I hope he does. Really. Although...one is from Canada and is presently in the Philippines caring for her mother...and one is from Utah and is presently in Nicaragua caring for her mother. Is there something wrong with this picture? Both are in their late 20s...early 30s...and both have sent him...sexually explicit pictures...and are supposedly drop dead gorgeous. Now why would a woman that beautiful...and that young...want to meet a 52 year old man?
I could care less except that he's been considering sending them money to help them get back "home"...and I want him out of my house before he does anything that stupid. And I guess...it really made me mad when he asked me to help him send a picture of one of these women to his friend Herb....and I walked over and he had one of these...extremely private, extremely exposed pictures...up on his screen. I could care less what he looks at...but I don't want to see it. He's had naked women on his computer since he's got it...all I've ever asked is that he not put it where I have to see it.
Naked bodies don't bother me. Playboy doesn't bother me....if I choose to look at them. Naked pictures of women left on diplay on my dining room table bother me.
It's become this really ugly game for him. He continually asks me what I'm going to do if...the lawn mower breaks down...or I can't start the rototiller (I suck at those pull-start tools), or if my car breaks down...or the bathroom faucet leaks. Well heck...I can get books...I can read...I can ask my sister and brother-in-law for help....I can do all kinds of things. Back off, bubba.
He amazes me. I went to the store yesterday...for cleaning supplies, milk, cat food...nothing major. "Can you bring back some treats?" For whom? "For me." I think not. You are no longer paying any share of the costs here....and you are barely even vacuuming the floor. My obligation is to pay for basic meals. If you want more...buy it yourself.
I can barely wait....13 days....13 days....I can last that long without erupting....just 13 more days..... | |
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| Freedom |
Apr 20, 2008 1:13 am
643 Views | It wasn't anticipation that led me onward so much as it was softness. It wasn't the voice as much as the laughter. It wasn't the empathy as much as the sense of humor. So many keys, so many choices, so much to think about.
We learn to know one another by sharing of ourselves; who we are, how we got where we are, where we are going. I suppose there isn't much left to know about me, you think? Although...the parts of me I've exposed...tend to be the darker sides...the anger, the pain, what was...less than pleasant. I wonder if that's how you see me...someone dark and hurting and angry. Once upon a time...I was.
Somewhere in the middle....I stepped into the grey area. The place where water drips in the background but you cannot find the leak. The place where fog shrouds all that you wish you could see and understand. The place where dreams are distant longings...and love a vague memory. We've all been there.
We put our lives on hold and simply exist. We choose to take the path of least resistance until the healing is done...the answers are found...the light begins to shine. I'm standing somewhere in the middle of a long tunnel seeing the distant glow of a faint light.
We can't blame anyone for the places we've been...or the things we've done. Regardless of the impetus...we make our own choices and must live with the consequences. Naivete is only attractive when viewed as innocence...at some point we are supposed to grow up. Strangely, I have a need to maintain that inner innocence. I really...don't want to know. I really...don't want to see. I like believing that people are intrinsically good...even if it ends up with me being hurt...because the alternative...is to fail to trust.
I've recently learned to trust again. It was the most unexpected feeling...to realize that...I simply had no doubt. It had nothing to do with laughter or softness or voices...and everything to do with truth...unexpected, unanticipated, unadulterated truth. No whispered words of passion or love could have shown me truth better than did simple integrity. Expose yourself for who you are...there is no shame in honesty.
So often we are busy trying to be perfect...trying to show one another exactly what we think the other person wants to see. You know what? That's what it is...what we THINK. Why can't we simply feel our way? Yes, it is uncomfortable...and there are very confusing moments along the way...but...if we cannot openly share of who we are....how can we ever know one another?
I'm not talking about sharing on my level....every deep dark secret your soul ever had....I'm talking about sharing truth...honesty...every day experience. It's what lets us know who we are dealing with....the value of the view from the other person's eyes. It's what brings us close enough to know if there is anything...we really want to see further.
Financial worth has no meaning for me. I could care less. Willingness to do what needs to be done....without harming others...means everything. Appearances mean nothing to me. The appearance of your heart and soul means everything. Your words mean little to me...their consistency and honesty...the person they reveal to me...means everything. Jokes mean nothing to me...but the ability to laugh at one's self....to have a sense of humor...to play...even as we grow old...means everything.
So here I stand...at the beginning of the end...or the beginning of the beginning...seeing the soft glow of light ahead. Freedom. Freedom has nothing to do with being married or not married...and everything to do with state of mind. I have allowed myself to be a prisoner for the better part of my life...and that is coming to a close.
Can you smell the rain on the horizon? Can you smell the scent of newly grown grass? Can you feel the breeze as it draws all your cares away from you and brushes your skin with new dreams...new hopes? Can you turn your face up to the sun and feel the warmth of love shining on you? Can you look into my heart...and feel the joy building? Freedom. | |
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4 Comments | |
| Slowing Down |
Apr 18, 2008 10:08 pm
655 Views | A feeling of satisfaction. I finished the audit I was working on and I had exceptionally good results with it. It took longer than I thought it would, but in light of the sheer amount of data...less time than it could have taken. It's been a very long week with lots of long hours in it.
I was talking to a friend recently about the quantity of work I've taken on...and they commented that I like it that way. I do. I'll be honest...I totally do. But...I like it because there is so little else in my life right now. I work, do my schoolwork, visit my friends as they are available...and work on my house as the weather permits...which it hasn't yet done this year. Sound like fun?
There are lots of things I'd rather do. I'd rather curl up with someone special and watch a movie. I'd rather linger over a special dinner. I'd rather go for a long walk up in the hills where we pick huckleberries. I'd rather go to Yellowstone...or Jackson... I'd rather go horseback riding in the Tetons. I'd rather play volleyball. But...it's not so much fun doing those things alone.
Sometimes I go off for a walk in places I feel...at peace...but there are a lot of things it really isn't safe to go off and do alone. Most of my friends are married....and busy with their families. The one who isn't married...well...she works odd shifts...and her preference is to go out drinking. I'm not much of a drinker....so...we get together to talk and visit...but don't do a lot of hanging together.
At some point....I hope there'll be a friend or a partner who will want to get out and play with me....who wants to go for walks...wants to play volleyball with a giant ball all over the front yard...wants to get out and explore all the beauty around us. Until then...I just keep myself busy. I take on lots of extra work...and I don't miss so much the playing. That's a sad commentary...but true. The busier I stay...the less I miss the companionship.
I'm thinking, though...that its about time to slow down. Right at the moment...I have a lot of commitments to live up to...and I will. But I think...as those commitments ease up...I am going to hesitate to take on new ones.
It hasn't all been...just keeping things at bay that has kept me busy. I'm used to doing whatever it takes to support my family. That's not exactly going to get easier without my ex. He does pay a couple of bills each month that I will pick up. Of course, the grocery bill will decrease...but I'm not sure how much. I eat mostly fruits and vegetables...and they aren't exactly cheap. So...I'll keep doing whatever it takes to make ends meet...and be able to work on my house.
But I still want to slow down. I want to know...that when the time comes and there is someone I want to invite into my life...I have time to enjoy them. I'm going to have school for another four years or so....but...I also want to take time to just be...to sew...to play...to crochet....to make things for my house....to enjoy life.
At one time...I would have honestly told you...I didn't have time to live...I needed to take care of everyone else. I do ok these days...and I'm not forced to take on all I do...although...it gets me further in my job because I take on so much. It makes my boss very happy....and I learn tons and tons of things.
Somewhere, though....I need to find a balance. I can't work myself into the ground and hope to be any fun to be with. I can't live my life for work. And I can't give up on the idea...that maybe someday...everything will fall into place...and I will be wishing...I had all kinds of time to spend with someone I love.
So....I think the time for change is coming. I'm going to get what I can do of the house tended to...and get as far as I can in my schoolwork...and take some time...for me. My time. What a concept. | |
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8 Comments | |
| A Fun Night |
Apr 17, 2008 9:04 pm
767 Views | So...the company awards banquet was tonight. I was the first victim....I mean...person honored...to have worked at the company for five years. Woohooo...I appreciated being described as having started at the mine and having worked there for two years until they kicked me out....lol...truth is subjective. It was actually fun. The meal sucked rocks...and there is no selection because there are so many people....you get an order of ribs...which I loathe...a piece of medium rare steak....I only eat mine well done...and a dessicated piece of chicken...with a baked potato and a piece of cheesecake. My "date" made out like a bandit...he got the ribs, steak, and cheesecake.
Afterwards, eight couples met at the local bar for drinks. That was more fun...lots of laughter...although Dean was a bit bent at me for being in conversations with everyone else. Give it a rest, Bubba... I haven't been to the bar in a long time...it's really not my scene...but I enjoyed having a couple of beers and laughing with my friends.
Had another talk with the ex before I left for dinner with my friends. He says he's taking this move as something serious...and as something permanent...and I should be aware of that. Ok. I'm trying to be good so I simply ask...how do you feel about that? Well...I'm the one that said I would leave...I can't exactly keep being mad about it. Ok...I hope that's true. He actually had done the dishes when I got home...which was a change from how it's been the past couple of weeks. I'm not holding my breath...but I am hopeful.
I had a visit today from some of the girls in the plant...to check to see if I was ok with Mer moving out. Well heck yes. So...when he's gone...everyone is meeting here for margaritas and dancing in the yard. I can actually see how eager I am. My best friend promised me a blow-up doll the day he moves out. Hmmm....can I pick hair and eye color? lol...what the heck am I gonna do with a blow-up doll?
I worked until 1:30 this morning, and got up around 5:30 to get to work early. I was already tired when I left for dinner...now that I've had a couple of drinks...I'm more tired...I should be working on this audit again tonight, but I think I'm just going to toddle off to bed shortly.
I hope y'all had a great day....and for the peoples who called tonight...I'm fine...honest...but, I wasn't home....I'll call y'all back this weekend...or you can call me. Sorry...busy night...and it's far too late to return calls now.
Love you. | |
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