Half-empty, Half-full

Well hell. Things here are pretty much bazoo. So I'm thinking about approaching it in two different ways. A game! Let's call it glass half empty, glass half full. Not necessarily in that order. It'll be a monthly tado.

Things here are going great! I have two beautiful daughters, who seem to be getting along better each and every day. For the moment we are all in good health, and we haven't been to the emergency room in over a month! Jeff (hubby's alias) has thus far managed to allude working at a firm and we fully enjoy his company on weekends and in the evenings during the week. We live in a beautiful rental home and have enough room for us and our au-pair Marie (?) to exist comfortably. We have great neighbors and find our location to meet out needs perfectly. I greatly enjoy my new job working for the cow people (true story) and Jeff, well he loves what he does too. My mother is coming into town for the inauguration and has hinted to others that perhaps she'll surprise us and pop by. Family visits are always so exciting and eventful! I usually don't make New Year's resolutions, but broke with tradition this year and made two. Fingers crossed!

Good God. If you're still with me let's move on to half empty.

Things here, are interesting. My daughters seem to be exploring the possibility that perhaps they need not be mortal enemies. Or at least full-on hate one another. Up until these past few weeks, things weren't looking so good.

Today Jeff's company filed for bankruptcy. Bitchinn. He will have a guaranteed paycheck (with insurance. oh let's not leave out insurance!) for 35 more days--34 if you don't count today, which I do.

We have law school debt and aren't barred. Heh. heheheheheh.

We paid almost $20,000 in medical bills last year what with my crazy and Sophie's (1 year old alias) hospital vacations. The thought of not having health insurance next month has me paralyzed.

I'm on meds for my crazy and per the suggestion of my health care provider have attempted to incorporate exercise into my routine. I've worked out twice. In two months. I am the Biggest Loser.

My hair is falling out in clumps from stress. But I'm actually pretty okay with it because I've always felt my mane to be too thick. (wait, i think i'm confusing my glasses)

My mother, who is abusive and cruel, is landing on my doorstep next week. (I have elves. They tell me things.) At my request we are no longer communicate. As such this is not part of the agreement and I'm a little scared. We haven't had one conversation in over ten years that hasn't resulted in tears (mine) and vomiting (me again). (too graphic? it's glass half empty people!) That and the timing BLOWS.

I've been looking for alternate rental homes in the area and there are none. Apparently no one wants to buy in this market (i just don't understand!) and so finding something cheaper is proving to be more difficult than anticipated. That and our landlord is giving us a screaming deal on the house we're living in now, and so going cheaper pretty much means putting up a tent in the neighbors backyard. (they have a big dog. we'd be safe.)

I have two goals that I'd set for this year and thus far haven't done a damn thing about either. Bravo.

Erin, my word for this year is breath.

Just between us

Did I have to check my old email to find the name of this blog is again today? Yes. My hell. What is wrong with me?

Right, so dilemma. Well, not really, but whenever faced with controversy I feel like it's a dilemma, because I hate confrontation. Hate it. But alas.

So I changed the location and names on my new blog because I had long suspected that I was no longer writing on the down-low. Sometimes people would mention things in conversations with me that I know I hadn't told them, or anyone else for that matter. Save the blog. And my husband. Heh. Sooo, as much fun as having friends and relatives read about my trips to the crazyhouse and never ending battle with PPD is... no.

I don't keep a journal, and the one's I did keep at one point I burned. Because dear lord. (Swistle, you are braver than any woman I have ever known. And some of the old journal entries you've posted are some of the grandest essays I have ever read. Anywhere. They fill me with delight and joy. Thank you.) I would rather take a big one up the wahoobee than re-read some of my old stuff, let alone post for the world to see.

So I got an email this morning from an old "friend" of mine asking for the new site. heh. hehehehellno. How she got it in the first place (you used your real names dip shit, that's how she found it in the first place. you have no one to blame but yourself.) nevermind. But I write here because as much as I LOVE everyone who commented at the old site, I never had to face them. You know? Telling strangers (or at least people I haven't met in person) about your darkest struggles is so much easier, than say discussing it with your neighbor. Because hey, if they're judging you, (which they usually aren't) it's okay! I won't be seeing you at the cookout on Friday and seeing that judgement in your eyes.

I don't have any sisters (three brothers). And I don't have a mother (she's somewhere. but that's another story.) My husband has SEVEN brothers and no sisters (the only reason I'm throwin that out there is to explain his lack of hmmm... understanding at times of the feminine mystique.). We live in VA, and my family is in Utah. (whaa that's a big reveal that I really don't know if I want out yet. but meh.) So what I'm really getting at is this, it's nice to have friends. Women friends who understand you, and don't judge you, and laugh with you when you need it.

I've never been conventional in the circles that I run in. We can all say that that's a good thing, and be your own person, and blahdeblahdeblah, but sometimes it's just nice to fit in somewhere. You know? I've always struggled to do that, and here I feel like I don't (struggle that is). Because if I want to say shitdamnhell, well, I do. And I don't feel bad about it. (husband has long since stopped reading my blogs. it's best for our marriage.) If I want to say that "goddamnit I had a terrible day," I do. And it's okay too. Everything's not always fine. (big bright smile! would you care for a muffin?!)

I love the life that I've chosen. I really do. My marriage is incredible. I have two amazingly wonderful kids. My husband and I both have jobs (one stable. one not so much.). And we're happy. I'm happy. But I'm even more happy when I can let this side of myself be sometimes too. Does that make any sense?

It does to me. And that (longwinded much Jess Ilana?) is why I'm going to tell her no.

Going with the wind and my GPS tracker

Hell. This is not rocket science. All day long I've been trying to memorize the name and location of my new blog. (this new. and shiny. and incredibly long worded. blog) I've had to login to two rarely used email accounts (TWICE) to actually find it. I'm all, "moments in zen? talking in zen? where the fuck is my Ativan?" No, no, that's not it. But it might have been a more apt title I'm thinking. So yes. Thus far we're off to a brilliant start. Hope your brain handles change better than mine.


Zen 2.8 (just drank 20 oz of diet coke and inhaled king size packet of m&ms. number should improve soon.)