Update

I'm a little uninspired as to what to post, but I haven't been posting much lately, and for no apparent reason. I've done a lot of packing and cleaning this week. I ran some, watched some television. Nothing big.

The job search continues. I keep applying and applying, and I keep getting those polite letters telling me that they found a better fit. Of course, there are also jobs that I've applied for that I'm overly qualified for and I never hear back from at all. I have another interview on Monday for a position that seems fun and interesting, but it pays less than I made last year as a graduate student. Not a good sign.

I think my dog (the chubby one) has lost some weight. We've been running the park almost daily, and her waistline is starting to be a little more visible. She'll always be a bit of a chunk since she's built wide, but I'm glad that she's getting in shape.

I can't promise that my next post will be any more interesting, but I certainly hope it will. Maybe I'll blame this one on my recent lack of a decent night's sleep. Or my general listlessness. Eh.

Days of Yore

Today was a long day. I took my dog for a run, then ran another several miles at home, then did some yoga and showered. Naturally after that I was fairly hungry. So I decided to have a snack.

There was a long, cool glass of lemonade waiting for me, and some pretzels that I'd picked up last week. As I was savoring the salty, sweet, and tart all at once, I was reminded of my not-entirely-distant youth.

When I was in grade school I attended Vacation Bible School at my church one week every summer. We'd meet in the sanctuary, sitting in groups by grades, singing hymns and pledging allegiance to the U.S. and Christian flags and the bible.

It was an honor to be chosen to hold a flag or bible, one that the older children particularly clamored for. Mr. Brandt would work with kids before the assembly, showing those lucky few the way to hold them in procession, at rest, and when your particular item was the object of a pledge.

After the morning assembly we parted into a variety of rooms where we learned songs, bible stories and bible verses, and made craft items like matchstick crosses or cross-emblazoned puffy paint t-shirts.

The day lasted until noon, but around eleven the building would stop for a half an hour while the kids lined up in the hallway near the church kitchen for the daily snack. There was a running list of snacks- one day was sandwhich cookie and Kool-Aid day, another was chips and (generic) cola day. The most popular day was always snow-cone day, usually Thursday. Snow cones on Friday were generally too much of a mess, since it was the last day and things were already a little hectic. Adding the messiest snack of the week to the mix didn't usually work.

Friday was often reserved for pretzels and lemonade. The lemonade was usually too sweet in that off-brand Kool-Aid way, and it usually tasted more like lemon cleaner than actual lemons. I never ate the pretzels myself. They were usually stale and unappetizing. Instead, I would often sit by myself, my mouth pursed in a perfect "O" and scrape the pretzel sticks clean of salt with my teeth in between sips of lemonade.

It was a simpler time. The memory evokes a kind of nostalgia- but not the kind where I wish I was still nine and reliving those events. Though I may just seek out a snow cone stand this summer.

Update

birds in house this year: 2
reading: Newcomer's Handbook for Moving to and Living in New York City
listening: Moby (Play and 18) and The Raconteurs
this week's mileage total: 22.53 miles run
dishes washed this weekend: 3 loads (I'm beginning to think that there's a dirty dishes gnome who drinks out of my cups and uses my bowls when I'm gone....)
papers I should have written before right now: 2
things I'd rather be doing: about 150
days since I last saw Darcy: 51
job applications I've sent in and not heard back on: 8
hours I'll probably sleep tonight: 5
cool new t-shirts I got this weekend- 2 (one has a Fraggle Rock design on it, the other has a picture from Sixteen Candles that says "I love Jake Ryan" underneath it. So cool.)

P.S.

The stupid bird came back today. It took me twenty minutes to get it off my ceiling and outside,

He he.

I've been researching real estate, neighborhoods, and etcetera about New York and I and excited. I've been fantasizing about my new life and let me tell you, it makes me happy.

Right now I like Jackson Heights, Queens. Bear in mind, I may change my mind. So right now I'm looking at apartments and restaurants and other things in the area and imagining how my new life might be. I imagine walking my dog down the street or in one of the private parks. I imagine, instead of going to Taco Bell after work, stopping at one of the taco carts or Indian restaurants on the way home. I can decorate my place with neat little pieces from the Indian shops in the neighborhood and go to Bollywood movies on weekends when I'm not taking the subway to Manhattan to see a play or concert. I can buy a share in the community garden, and brush up on my Spanish and actually use it. I can teach a summer class at one of the many community colleges. I can spend my summer writing at cafes and haunting the public library system. And I'm going to get a digital camera so I can post all sorts of neat photos of my goings- on if not for you then for my family who will miss me very much.

June is busting out all over- she must need a bigger girdle.

Sleep

I am sooo tired. My sleep schedule is off, and over the weekend I've been sleeping in and then ruining my schedule for the next day. Hopefully I'll get back on track soon.

I am glad I only have two more weeks of this silly class. Ninety pages a night is way too much work when the class meets daily.

Not much to say today. Chloe and I took a long walk in the park, and I wore the wrong shoes. Now I am paying the price hobbling all around my house.

Good night. I'm going to enjoy my freshly squeezed lemonade.

Another Argument for New York

I am a pizzaholic. Enough said.

Today was a nice day. I lounged around watching tv in bed for awhile, did some laundry, and took my dog for a nice run at the park. Both of us are getting in better shape because of these runs. Though I'm used to the humm of my treadmill and probably run slower in the park, the hills really give me a workout I don't get at home.

Now to chain myself to my homework for the next day, and to my computer to finish a few new cover letters and resumes. Gotta pay the bills. I'll probably fit in another dog walk too.

Hope you're all enjoying your holiday weekends.

My To Do List

I have made a resolution. Possibly not a shocking one, or not even one I will keep with 100% certainty. However, I have been rather down this week since my fifth wedding anniversary was marked only by filing preliminary divorce papers (I don't know what the legal terms are- we're not divorced yet, we're haggling over our house and Darcy). I also haven't seen Darcy in about five weeks. So this resolution is giving me something to focus my energy on and something positive to look forward to.

I have decided to move to New York in a year.

Deep breath.

I am a hard-core suburbanite who has lived in a smallish midwestern city the past five years. I was raised fundamentalist and with very conservative values. I have grown increasingly more liberal (radical?) as I have piled on the years of higher education. The city I live in is the only Democratic haven in the state, barring the University I attend. I wouldn't be lying to say I have not been looking forward to leaving my liberal haven and being pushed once more into flag-waving, Bush-loving suburbia. Not to mention all I ever wanted to do for a living when I was in high school was act and write.

I hate driving. I love the arts. I've always wanted to leave much closer to water. I would adore the adventure of making my way in a new place where no one knows me and isn't dotted with places that remind me of having a broken heart.

I have given up a number of opportunities for the sake of love and my marriage. I have made a ton of sacrifices willingly and happily for the sake of Ratfink. If he could have treated me like a person and loved me, I still could have been happy with that. But my life is now going on another path. I want to start doing things that will make me happy. I want to live my life for me for once.

First I have to sell my house here and get a job. I plan on saving the money I make off the house and saving as much of my income next year as possible. When I move in with my parents, I will get rid of as many of my belongings (give away, sell, throw out) when I move to my parents' basement, and thus streamline my posessions. I also plan to take Krav Maga over the next year. It'll get me in shape and help me feel more confident.

Then next year after the school year ends, I will move to New York a few weeks before school starts, get to know the city, vacation from my new home and enjoy being in the coolest city in the country.

Is this a real word?

It's the Clark County word of the week. It is something I have been practicing for a number of years, but is it a real word?


"Longanimity" is a noun which means: patient endurance of injuries

Vote- does this word sound made up?

Morning Quickie

Any of you that have inside dogs probably can guess what the first thing I do in the morning is- other than tiredly curse the morning, that is. I take my dog out for a pit stop.

Everything was fairly normal this morning. Dog sniffing, dog squatting, dog barking at squirrels walking the telephone lines. My dog generally barks, standing on her hind legs as if she can reach the phone lines until the squirrels are long out of sight. As a result, I idly checked the status of the squirrels so I could figure out when my dog might calm down and come inside. (As per the aforementioned tendency of my dog to be a Houdini, I always go outside with her.) What I got-for looking at the squirrels- was an eyeful.

It was fur on fur, wild and crazy squirrel sex on top of the telephone pole (how phallic....)

Hmmmm. More's the pity, I'm not sure anything else in my day today is going to top that.

The Bird Bell Curve

The birds in my neighborhood are decidedly dumber than your average birds.

Exhibit A: Last summer I would be sitting in my living room minding my own business, reading on the couch or watching television. From time to time I would hear the chirping sound of birds and think to myself, "that really sounds close." I would think nothing of it for a while, until I would suddenly look up and notice my kitty. She would be sitting at my feet quietly, with a live bird perched in her mouth. This scenario happened to me several times last summer, and I believe happened to the Ratfink (my soon-to-be-ex-husband) once or twice as well.

After said kitty would appear with said bird, myself or Ratfink would grab the bird and release it out of doors before the cat or one of our dogs decided to kill the bird all over our new carpet. Eh, and I guess we were concerned for the bird's sake as well. We weren't sure if it was the same bird, but it was definitely the same species. Eventually, the bird did not make it out of the house and no bird reappeared in our house. Until today.

Exhibit B: I had just brought Chloe inside from her last bathroom break for the night and was talking to my mom on the phone. As we were talking I heard the familiar noise of my dog tearing through the house on a chase. My dog and my cat aren't really on the best of terms. I'm pretty sure that my dog can't understand why we haven't let her eat the cat already. I don't know how many times I've spied my black dog with a shockingly white clump of fur in her mouth. Point is, I assumed my dog was yet again chasing my poor cat.

I was wrong. I looked over and saw, instead of my black and white fuzzykins at the mercy of my pig-dog, but a small grey bird much like the one who I got to know personally last summer. Who, when I tore my dog away from it, promptly flew up my stairs.

"Great," I think, now I'm going to have a bird in my belfry! I'll never get it out!"

Luckily, fast reflexes and some minor plastic bag wrangling allowed me to get the birdie out the back door. It even flew away fairly normally into the night. Hopefully not to return on semi-regular intervals until its untimely death.

Exhibit C: The pidgeons that live in my spare-room window next to the window unit air conditioner keep coming back. I've sprayed any number of chemicals and scents on the window area, cleaned the window out of the nest weekly, and even (ashamedly) committed pidgeon-chick-icide. But that window must still be getting 4 stars in the Michelin guide, because there are no shortage of birds that want to live there.

Can you understand why I think that there must be a family of inbred sub-normal birds living in my neighborhood? Why and how do they keep sneaking into my house? Why do I encourage my animals not to kill them? (other than the obvious carpet-stains and possible digestive issues involved)

The Wait is Excruciating

I am at the point where I have been applying for and interviewing for jobs for about two months. I am beginning to grow tired of the procedure.

The job I applied for two months ago has yet to make any move forward. The job I went through a month of 4 different interviews and made it to the last cut, me versus one other applicant, has yet to call back. My putative boss said that he would make the decision right away.

It's been 48 hours.

Ring, phone. Ring.

I'm afraid that I'm going to be getting a polite letter in the mail tomorrow.

On the other hand, the girls' school that liked me a lot (but didn't hire me) has posted another job. I'm encouraged. The letter they sent me didn't sound like a form, and it did say that I was one of the most qualified applicants.

In other news, I now have a pink kitchen. It looks a lot better than it did, but I really am learning to exercise care when choosing paint. The colors can really look different on the tiny 2 inch sample versus on a huge wall. I thought the color was more of a peach pink and it looks more a ballet slipper pink. But at least the wallpaper is all down, the cracks in the wall are fixed, and the walls are all one color. It's a start. All I have left to do is clean and floor a couple of rooms and the house will be ready. Right when it starts to look a little nice.

Summer class started two days ago and I should probably be reading Max Weber instead of blogging, but I saw comments and the joy of being read prompted me to leave an update. Hopefully I'll have better news tomorrow....

Ha!

For those niggling questions your tykes sometimes have, take a look at this. It may be a difficult issue to talk about, but consulting the experts always helps.

This is the Interview that Doesn't End...

I had a VERY long job interview today. It took almost three hours. It's a decent job, with the possibility of teaching a little part time. It would start soon, so money won't be nearly as much of a problem as it is right now. I hope I get it.

Things have been in flux for a long time. I can't say how wonderful it would be to be able to have a regular paycheck, work friends, have something to dress up for each morning. I could start saving money for my down payment, work on qualifying for a loan for a new place.

Anyway, I'm also on an upswing in my running. After cutting back due to almost breaking my knee, then because of finals and a sore ankle, I ran a whole 8 miles yesterday. That's my longest run since Christmas break. Maybe I'll be ready to run in the half marathon this fall.

I read a book last night. This was the first book I've managed to read since class ended. I have felt so overwhelmed. When I finished my masters last spring I read a lot- but my reading material devolved into an orgy of chicklit and bubblegum fiction. This spring I've read a few magazines, but for the most part sat back and vegged out in front of the television.

There are times in our lives when we need a certain kind of comfort food. At the moment, reading hasn't been mine. The reading, however, is making me feel more like myself than before.

Hail, Genius Pig!

Now, if she were my child I could claim it as genetic, but since she's my dog I suppose that I can only say I'm proud of her and not take the credit for myself. Anyway, the point is, my dog, Chloe, my best friend and sweet piggy pie, started obedience class today and she went up to the second level of classes on her first day.

Of course I've always know she was a genius. I've known this because she is the most stubborn dog in the world, and a Houdini to boot. When she was a yearling she eventually had to be rigged to a zip line in order to leave her unsupervised in the yard. At one time, I actually had to tie a rope to her leash and lead her around the yard so she wouldn't escape. Even then she hopped the neighbor's fence on her rope with me at the other end once or twice. She's matured a lot since then, but I still watch her the entire time she's in the fenced yard at my house.

We started obedience classes because I want to get her certified as a volunteer dog. To do that, I first have to get her to pass several levels of obedience classes. Also, I am a little tired of her pulling on the leash. So I went to an orientation for obedence classes 6 weeks ago. Finally this week an opening appeared in our preferred course slot.

I will say that fake bacon strips do go a long way to convince my dog to do whatever I ask her too. I swear that with enough carrots (yes carrots) and bacon strips I could teach my dog to take dictation. She's VERRRRY food motivated. Hence the nickname "Pig." The only food she is on record as NOT liking is celery. Which is loads different than my other dog, who turns her nose up at basically everything, and with good reason. She's got an extremely sensative tummy. I could tell you tales that would curl your hair just imagining the scent.

So, happy Thursday. I'm going to snuggle my sweet little genius.

Almost Done

Just another twenty-four hours of hard work and I'm done for about 12 days. Summer classes. Ergh!

I've been working on my teaching portfolio almost non-stop much of the day, and then onto a reading comprehension project. Working on the portfolio was a nice capstone to a hectic semester. I got to look at the things I accomplished, all bound together in a nice binder, typed up and explained. All of my favorite lesson plans, papers, and other accomplishments a physical reminder of all of the hard work I have done. It made me proud.

Still working at getting that job! I'm sending out a new batch of c.v.'s after I finish my final school assignment.

To end my Monday post, I've decided to let you in on a game that I play with myself when I'm bored, or trying to fall asleep. It's probably a game that a lot of people play, with some variation. I call it "What I would do if I won the lottery."
I'm going to restrict myself to three things, to keep it short.

1. Buy the condo I visited on Sunday. It's gorgeous and perfect. The bedroom is big enough for my big bed, there's a lot of light and a lot of privacy, and a nature trail near by. It's also in a part of the metropolitan area that I'm not very familiar with and never lived in before. Which means that the area is not overlaid with millions of memories of hubby and me together.

2. Take a long, sweeping tour of Europe with my puppy dog. We'd take a boat or private plane so she wouldn't have to ride in the cargo hold. Airlines don't promise that animals will leave that area alive. I would spend time in England, France, Austria, and Italy to begin with.

3. Invest enough money so I don't have to work for a living if I don't want to. I want to split my time between taking classes- dance, yoga, guitar, foreign language and etc.- and working for causes I believe in such as women's health. I also would like to spend time getting my dogs certified as volunteer dogs so I can take them to visit hospitals and nursing homes. They are such sweet animals, they would love meeting new people. They have enough love to spread around.

What would you do if you were independently wealthy? Really? After taking a huge trip I know I'd probably lounge around and sleep in for about a week before I got incredibly bored. I'd definitely have to devote myself to doing something greater for the world.

New Mantra

There comes a time in every woman's life when, at least for a minute, she can admit to herself that the person she has completely devoted her every breath and effort does not deserve it. Her character is not determined by whether or not she leaves him, how long it takes to leave, or whether or not she lives the rest of her life in bittersweet denial, but how she changes the way she lives her life and the way she values herself and all the people in her world.

I am not done yet. As Buffy says in the series finale, "I'm cookie dough" and not yet cookies. However, I am trying to focus on something else.

People (namely, family members) keep telling me that I'll have a fresh start, a new life soon. They often fail to realize that that new life will not be reached from my parents' basement. I admit that my parents will probably treat me a little differently than when I was 19 and living at home the last time, but a 10:30 curfiew, asking permission to drive my own car, being required to attend church each Sunday, and being asked whether or not I was being a "good girl" each time I came home from a date are all house rules I am hoping that are long gone. Still, you might guess that the people who came up with these rules less than a decade ago could not have changed much. For instance, my mother freaked out completely last week when I didn't call her for a couple of hours one afternoon last week. I am also expected to call them when I get to my own home from anywhere so they know I'm safe. I should be thankful that my parents are concerned about me, but they are a tad overprotective.

Anyway, I don't have the new job, new condo, or new life yet, but I intend to accomplish those things one by one. I'm hoping I will have the first 2 and be in the process of the third by this time next year. I'm sure I'll let you all know.

I am beginning to get anxious about the two job interviews I had last week- neither one has called back this week although they both said that they would get back to me this week. No news isn't bad news, at least. I just loved the school I visited soooo much. I want the job very badly. And it's my turn. It's time for me to get some of that good karma that's around. I'm not a puppy kicker or anything else equally bad. It's time for something decent to land in my lap. Please?

Twin Peaks, Ummm... a Bit Peakier

I think I remember somewhere that showering, sex, and PMS each raise the size of your breasts by one cup size. I've never tested the theory before, and let me say, I've often wondered what would happen to a woman who was PMSsing while having shower sex. Would her breasts just puff up so much they might pop?

Well, let me just say that I'm feeling very much like Busty McChesterton today. Since I'm not at present showering and blogging at the same time, and am as chaste as a nun for these past-way-too-long-to-mention-days, I'm guessing I'm on the pre-menstrual train.

I wonder if I'm the only one who notices those days. Do guys notice when the women they see regularly have busty days? Or does the testosterone short circuit the measuring portions of their brains and they just see bust?

Non-Americans often think the American breast fetish is quite silly. If you really think about it, they are glorified baby bottles. This is why other cultures don't have the same problem we do with public breastfeeding. Not that I am in any way comfortable with breastfeeding in public. I don't wish to take that right from anyone, but I couldn't whip mine out except in private.

Anyway, I suppose today I will just be saluting the breast in general. So, ladies, do those self-exams, get your mammograms when warranted, and hold yourself proud no matter what your size.

And time moves on....

I won't say that I'm completely healed. That would be lying. I'm not ready to date anyone, and the things hubby does or doesn't do (leaving his junk in the house or keeping one of the dogs from me) can still make me fairly angry and hurt. I also don't know how I'll feel on our wedding anniversary next month or the anniversary of our first date the month after that.

After almost six months, though, I will say that the routine has become a balm. I don't miss him because out of habit I don't expect him to be there. I no longer expect, even out of the corners of my mind, for him to be home when I return. I don't scan the street for his car as I turn into it. It's becoming less and less often when I notice something in the news or read something that I instinctual want to tell him about. I expect it to become easier (after the bump of leaving) when I no longer inhabit our house. Moving furniture has helped some, but unfinished home repair projects of his, scratches he put in the wall, and the general uneasiness that he has the keys still occasionally grate on me.

I'm going to try to stop complaining about moving in with my parents. I should be grateful I have loving parents who at least have some small area in their house and are willing to shelter me in this time of need. At least until I am actually staying with them, at least, which is when I plan to grumble quietly to friends about every fundamentalist holier-than-thou comment they make and every Sunday they force me to church. However, I will take advantage of their generosity to save as much money as I can to get myself an ideal new place.

For now, I have to finish the semester. Although at present I am a tad distracted by the job interviews I had yesterday. One of them was at a lovely private girls' high school. It seems to be the kind of institution where I could focus more on teaching and less on the administrative details I hated so much during student teaching. Possibly I could even expect the students to read more than 4 pages a night for homework. The campus was beautiful, and it is four miles away from the condo village I like. Keep your fingers crossed that they liked me as much as I liked them!

Don't take this wrong- I'm not loving life, I'm not estatic about "starting over" and "moving on" as people sometimes prompt me to be, people who I may add have never been divorced. For a long time I had felt so tired, so hurt, that each breath and each step was taken with the utmost force and care. Now I can only say that I'm more than coping, but that's as far as I'm willing to take it yet.

I like solitude, but he gave me so much of it in the relationship. I'm lonely. I miss having someone around to share the little things with.

Busy Season

I promise to write more soon- and I meant to write more by now, but I have 3 projects and one paper due over the next week, and 25 papers to grade. In addition, I'm working both days this weekend.

It seems a sheriff was hanging around my house before I got home from class today. Could it be that hubby has filed already? I told him to please not do anything drastic over the next ten days (a few days ago) because I had enough stress to deal with finishing my schoolwork for the semester. I don't think being served will hurt me that badly, but I don't want to run the risk of feeling emotionally wrought in addition to working on way too much school work.

Until then, wish me luck. I have 2 job interviews on Friday. One of them is for a really cool private school with small classes and a women's studies course.

One of the Best Dogs in the World

I say "one of" because I can't pick between them- both my girls are wonderful in their own way. But I am writing this day in honor of my first puppy ever, Darcy, who came into my life almost 5 years ago.

When we brought her home from the Humane Society she was only six pounds and eight weeks old. She was fuzzy, and still is black with tan markings. She has brown eyebrows on her black face which she twitches up and down when she's listening to someone talk. It makes her look as if she is puzzling out what we're saying to her.

I had moved in with my fiance the week before, the next week I was graduating from college, and the week after that we would be getting married. This particular weekend, however, was our puppy weekend. I had never had a puppy- only a 3 year old dachshund when I was 3 myself who went to my grandparents' house when my infant sister started crawling and eating her food. Other than that barely remembered time I had never had a pet. So fiance and I had made a deal that each of us could pick out a dog. We weren't planning on getting them both at once, and he said I could get my dog first.

I had a misguided idea that I needed a dachshund and, wonder of wonders, the Humane Society actually had a full-blooded doxie waiting for adoption. I was flabbergasted and excited. Then I attempted to move towards the dog's crate. I was met by one of the meanest growls I've ever heard. If that dog had been just a tiny bit nice, it would have had a home. Thank goodness it wasn't, or I would have not only missed out on Darcy, but my dog Chloe as well.

Fiance wanted a German Shepard mix. He'd done a lot of research on them, and had a course of planning laid out for his new puppy. He was specifically looking for a puppy, so he could make sure it was conditioned exactly the way he wanted and trained from an early age to follow his commands. Yet he did not see a single dog he was interested in.

I, however, saw a crate with a couple of German Shepard mix pups. One was male, and his sister was hiding behind him. Fiance wanted a female puppy because he had read somewhere that female dogs respond better to men, and he hadn't noticed this puppy behind her brother (who looked decidedly much less like a German Shepard. Oh, the randomness of genetics in mixed breed pups!) I brought her to fiance's attention, and it was love at first sight.

My relationship with her was decidedly fraught with more difficulties. Oh, she was cute all right. And fuzzy. And sweet, when she was just about ready to fall asleep. But this puppy had her issues. She chewed my ankles raw, nipped at my nose when she licked my face because she was so excited to see me. She was also fairly mean whenever she wasn't exhausted, growling and snapping at anyone who got on her bad side. In addition, the role of puppy-mom fell to me. Somewhat like the mother of a new infant, I was suddenly in charge of getting up with a baby (baby dog that is) in the middle of the night, at five a.m., and every few hours throughout the day, sleeping when the baby slept, and carefully supervising her every move whenever she was awake. I won't say fiance left the care entirely to me, because that would be a bald-faced lie, but I'm sure most mothers will understand when I say I, as mom, got the lion's share of the responsibilities.

When we had had her for about two months, fiance went to summer military training for two weeks and I was left alone to take care of her entirely on my own. She was still figuring out potty-training, still teething fairly fiercely, and still fairly growly. I was in the middle of my first class at graduate school, and had to try my damndest to finish my schoolwork while keeping her entertained. Have you ever tried to read 4 scholarly (long) books over the course of 10 days while a puppy chewed your ankles? Let me tell you, it's not an easy proposition. When she finally grew enough to jump up onto our tall bed by herself, I also lost my last place of respite. I cried.

The funny thing is, by the end of the two weeks I had trained Darcy to ring a bell on the back door when she needed to go outside. Reliably. She still rings that bell when she needs to go to this day, and she is strangely enough, pretty truthful. The only time I have to doubt her rings are when it's snowed outside since she loves to play in the snow. She had also changed into a much sweeter dog as well. She's really quite a giving and laid back dog, completely different from the pup I used to squeeze "growly juice" from just weeks before.

Hubby (soon to be ex-hubby, of course) believed then and still claims to this day that his two-week absence after one of her routine snits the night before convinced the misbehaving mini-pooch that she'd better behave or he'd leave her again. I'm not so sure about that.

In honor of the two best dogs in the world (if you believe yours is one of the best don't be insulted, I am a bit partial) who are both black, adopt a black shelter dog if you are in the market. Black dogs get chosen less than other colors. I'm not sure why- I think it's because people have some instinctual, primal response that makes them fear black dogs just a little bit more. Black dogs can be some of the sweetest, best companions. Just as good as the other colors, and possibly better!

Back in the Saddle

I've been spending some time reading some of my favorite blogs and I decided that I needed to post a better update, since I have been gone for over a month.

I'm really feeling for cmhl. She's been going through a rough time and seems to be coping fairly well at this point. I really feel for her and understand in some ways what she's going through. Yes, she's a decade older than me and has 2 kids, but I too am struggling to cope with a marriage that was less than stellar. I too had a hubby that allowed me to (or required me to) do everything to keep the house going, to keep the bills getting paid on time, etc. Who didn't seem to recognize that his actions had an impact on people other than himself. And he continues to do so as I make a fourth mortgage payment by myself.

I hope that everything works out for the best for her, but I have come to the realization that the best, for me, has nothing to do with the man I've spent the last decade with. Now I just have to get the resolve to make it legal.

I still miss the person he was, the friend he used to be to me. I don't think that at this point I could ever forgive him enough to live with him again unless he could take back all the crap he's put me through since he left that message on our answering machine almost six months ago telling me he was leaving.

A couple of days ago I was feeling bad, depressed about how terrible a person I must be if my husband can't even love me, and I realized something that made me feel proud of myself. I've made it through hell.

My great-grandmother died, and hubby left 2 weeks later over the machine. He was hospitalized a little later. I've paid for almost all our bills while cutting back on my work hours to student teach. I kept my heat at 52 and still paid over 200 a month. My toilet broke, my car was hit in front of my house overnight. No one left a note. I bruised my tail bone. I unexpectedly had to buy two new tires. I hated student teaching- I operated on 5 hours of sleep most nights, and worked at teaching and planning and grading from sun up to 11 pm. Hubby stole money from my bank account, on the same day I discovered he'd been ordering flowers. Hubby had committed to take the dogs out 2 nights a week (when I had night class and was gone from home for 14 hour days) and forgot/didn't make alternate arrangements 4 times. I've cleaned up the messes he left in the house. Washed dishes he left dirty and taken recycling he collected to the recycle center. I almost broke my knee being pulled after a squirrel at the park. I broke out in hives (don't know why) and my eyes and throat started to swell shut.

I only have guaranteed employment for another 6 weeks and my house is not ready to put on the market. Hubby owes me more money than he makes in 3 months, and he is screwing with my credit as well- not paying car payments for his car (I cosigned) while I struggle to pay all our bills by myself. He won't even reply to my emails about the house or the dogs most of the time.

I am starting to feel a little down after rehashing this. But the point of it all is that I have made it through. I survived all of this without doing something tragic, which I definitely thought about from time to time.

I am making a wish list for myself. I have a dream condo village I want to live in. I would have a one car garage and a fenced area for my dogs. I would have more than one toilet (seems good after the days without one), and a full sized closet (my house is over 100 years old. 2 half closets do not make a whole). It has tennis courts, a walking path, and swimming pools. It's much closer to my dream job than I live now. It would be mine. Entirely mine. As would my paycheck. No longer will I have to live in fear of discovering new secret credit cards, thousands more dollars of electronics purchased for hubby's personal pleasure, and know that I am working all weekend long to pay for his leisure.

I was cleaning and packing up more stuff this week, and found more fast food credit card receipts than before. It's nice to know that when I was stretching the budget eating 80 cents worth of sandwiches and carrots daily he could charge 13 dollars to the sub shop or to Burger King.

But that is a tangent, and this is not what I meant to say. I meant to say that I am trying, but the healing comes slowly.

Long Absence

I haven't written in a while. At first student teaching got pretty busy, then I got out of the habit of writing. I'm not sure what to write any more.
I'm big into the job hunt right now. I'm hoping to work at a local community college teaching, but I'm also looking at a few private high schools as well. There's a condo I have my eye on. I want it badly, but I need a regular income first.
I want male attention badly. I don't want a relationship, but it would be very nice to be appreciated. I might go dancing next weekend.
So here I am. Not very far from where I was before. Still poor and jobless and a little sad. Trying to deal with the ending of my marriage, which I'm still not happy about.
Life goes on.

Weekend: Part Two

I have been having a really low key weekend. The most of it has mainly been reading magazines (Jane, Runner's World, and Yoga Journal), cleaning my house while dancing around to good music, walking both of my large dogs in the park (they aren't hard to control, the problem was their leashes kept getting tangled together) and watching Buffy dvds. I finished season three and am onto season four for the third time through.

I am still on an Academy Awards blackout. I know who won best picture (couldn't block it out that much) but I want to watch some of the movies that have recently come out on video before watching the awards. It's more fun when you've seen more of the movies.

It's a pity the weather will be turning back to the thirties again on Monday. It's been so nice here in the seventies this weekend. It should be agains the law for the weather to get this nice this late in winter without staying this way.

Back to Jane and Buffy. I'm watching the Thanksgiving episode, "Pangs." Darcy is lying on her back with her legs in the air and my tea scenting candle is burning giving my slightly more cleaned room a nice scent.

Wanted:

A good man, interested in a serious relationship.
Someone who doesn't lie.
A frugal man, but not afraid to spend some money on me to show me he cares.
Someone who respects my opinions, even if they are sometimes about silly tv shows.
Someone who does half of the housework.
Someone who calls when he's running over 20 minutes late.
Someone who likes dogs. Particularly my dogs.
Someone who takes care of himself.
Someone who likes to read, and won't make fun of me (too seriously) for my taste in movies.
Someone who is loyal.
Someone who will talk to me when he has a problem.
Someone who will talk to me about nothing if I feel like hearing his voice.
Someone who thinks I am beautiful, and smart, and will do my share of the paralell parking.
Someone who will find my conservative and corny Southern Baptist family amusing enough to commiserate with me, but not so much to insult them.
Someone who won't mind abstaining from alcohol when near my conservative Southern Baptist family.
A non-smoker, preferably someone who wouldn't mind sharing the occaisional slower run with me.
Someone who doesn't find a shaved head his hairstyle of choice.
Hey, if we're going that far, how about someone with a full head of hair.
Someone who likes pizza a lot. Or at least doesn't make fun of my near-obsession with it.
Someone who likes to travel, and will want to travel with me.
Someone who is willing to take things very slowly with a divorcing young woman mature beyond her years and patiently deal with her sore spots with money and trust.

Anyone know anyone like this?
Hoping that someone in particular fits the bill. We'll see.

Television- My Roommate.

I watch more television than I should. I really do. The problem is, I watch television when I'm bored and when I'm lonely, I watch more television when I'm stressed, and I watch even more television when I live alone. Suffice it to say, at this juncture in my life, I watch way too much television.

The problem is, I would rather have a more interesting and fufilling life than watch all my television. I would love to have tons of interesting friends and hobbies. However, I am scheduled within an inch of my life at the moment, and tv while doing my lesson planning and tv in odd lonely hours works for me right now. It takes time and money to make friends, establish hobbies. Time and money both being things I have in short supply.

I've heard it said that youth is wasted on the young. I say retirement and leisure is wasted on the old. I should be seeing the world and having a ball now instead of working my ass off for no money 60 hours a week. Through it all, at least I have my tv.

Countdown till my day off- three more days! Three more days until I can spend an entire day doing nothing of greater value than relaxing and having fun.

The Saga Continues

This week should be good- Friday I won't have teaching or class, and this means that I will have only 3 preps this week. And I will get an extra day free next weekend. Fun fun!

We move from the Renaissance into the Reformation this week. That should also be fun. I love the Reformation, though we probably won't get into the interesting sects that came from the reformation that believed that cursing was holy, or believed in group marriage....

Spent another few hours with the guy. Had a lot of fun. I still don't know whether it's a proto-dating thing or a friends-making thing. Oh well. It was kind of funny talking to him. We're definitely not two peas in a pod, but there are a lot of things we have in common. I kept agreeing with him and felt afraid I was coming off as too (ungenuinely) agreeable, even though I really did agree with what he was saying.

Both my dogs are here for the weekend. Darcy had a good birthday weekend, I hope. She got a long walk, a few bites of hamburger, and I sang happy birthday to her 3 times. I wonder which of the three things she appreciated the least!!! I can't believe my puppy is 5 years old.

I've decided that high school teaching is not for me. What is for me, or at least what I will do for money next year, is somewhat beyond me at the moment. Hopefully I'll have a little more time to figure it out in three weeks when I'm done teaching. I work way too hard at high school teaching and hate it too much to spend all that effort and time doing it.

I don't really know who I am anymore. I am trying to embrace that as something freeing instead of being scared at my loss of identity. My marriage and my cool house were pretty much the things I was most proud of in my life, and I always felt that as long as worthless husband loved me I could do anything for him. I know that's a precarious choice for an identity, but I do think that spouses should in part help to add to their partner's happiness levels. Too bad he didn't think so too.

I will try to post more than once this week. Just wait until 3 weeks from now when I'm done teaching- I'll probably be posting like crazy again on every topic from politics to love to the state of my belly button lint. I know I can't wait until I have the time to run more than once a week and do yoga, and do laundry and dishes on week nights.

Exhaustion and Grading

I didn't stay out too late last night, but I was up about 2 hours later than usual. Went to bed at 12:45 insead of 10:30. Since I usually get up at 5:30, those extra hours really took a lot out of me. Although I guess I really rather would have preferred to have been in the arms of a rather attractive man that I had been hanging out with earlier in the evening.

I still don't know whether or not this is a thing- whether it's a nascent friendship or possible romance. But do I wish it was a romance. He's gorgeous, and funny, frugal, and intelligent. And active. Of course, I have never been known to be a party girl and he is quite the man about town. All these low self esteem issues make me think I don't have much to offer in comparison to the much tighter asses of the undergrads he usually hangs out with.

There were a few times last night that I wanted him so much it felt like a cavity in my teeth. I haven't felt like that in a long time, and I don't remember ever feeling that way about my husband. Mainly because I knew when I wanted him, he was fairly accessible. It was all about when I wanted him. Now here I am, wondering about someone else and hoping to God that he's attracted to me while also telling myself constantly that even if he is, I need to take this really slowly.

Worthless husband and I started dating in high school. We had dated over two years by the time we had taken things to the next physical level. That worked for me then- I was a teenager, then a young twenty-something college student. And we were planning to be married, and we did get married. Which I don't regret- I think all of this would have turned out much differently if not for the schizophrenia. But the sz is there, and so is the situation. And I'm starting to deal with it all. I really am. This week was rough in the student teaching, but I am starting to feel much differently about the ending marriage.

I don't know how to play this dating game though, if we might be or be on the way to dating. It was different in high school and college, and seeing the same people in your dating pool day in or day out. Last week we had another plan to go to another event that was being held at the graduate school for this week, and now that it's over, I'm not sure when to call, or what to say, or when to try and get together again. The last two evenings were scheduled the way they were around events that we both wanted to go to, and probably would have gone to anyway but appreciated the company. And we made plans to meet beforehand each evening. He said we should get together again, but there aren't any such events on the calendar so there's no ready made plans. And in about 2 weeks he's going to be out of town for a little while. So I don't know if it would be pushing it to try to see him next weekend since he'll be out of town the next, or if I should wait until after he gets back from his trip in 3 weeks. I don't want to wait that long, but I don't know how the game really works, other than I should probably wait another couple of days before I contact him again.

I never thought I would be doing this. Other than being excruciating, it's kind of fun.

Don't worry about me dear readers, if you are out there. I am a very level headed and practical person, and I will not do anything rash. In fact, much of the time my biggest problem is that I don't take enough risks. The good kind, like risking that someone will say no when you're trying to ask them to do something with them in order to make new friends.

Cool music

I discovered Beulah about a year ago. I warmed up to them slowly, noticing over time as my launchcast radio station played that I rated more and more music by that band highly. Eventually, I downloaded one of their albums from emusic (a great independant download source that's legal and supports indie musicians) and looked up more information on the band.

I was sad to find out that they had broken up around the time I had started listening to them. I found that I still had several more of their albums to download and listen to and enjoy, but it was sad to know that the were over right as I had found them. Kind of like discovering a new (but dead) author that you enjoy immensely. The end of their oevre is well in sight and each song (or poem or novel) is more precious and painful because there is no new piece in the wings waiting to fill my hunger for new material.

So I'm rocking out to Beulah tonight and hoping that my favorite bands will last a long, long time.
If you haven't checked them out yet, I recommend you start with "The Coast is Never Clear."

Another Week

This has been a week. Class was tough- student teaching is hard. I was a people pleaser and a grade chaser when I was in high school, and most of my students don't have that motivation. It's hard to figure out how to get them to do the stuff they need to do to get the grades, to pass the class.

On the other hand, I went to a concert this week with an attractive male acquaintance (let's call him John). The concert was great, and I don't know exactly what's going on with the acquaintance but I'm happy enough just to make a new friend. I've spent so much time taking care of my husband and sacrificing for him, it will be nice for a change to have friends I can do things with, like my female friend- let's call her Becca.

I know that I'm not really in a good place for a more serious relationship, and friendships build slowly, but let's just say that I wouldn't be adverse to some slow building between myself and John. Who knows if he even feels that way himself- I have no radar whatsoever after being with the same man for a decade. But at least he wants to go out again this week. So I wasn't boring enough (as a future friend or otherwise) to not propose another outing....

Not to mention that during the evening's conversations, he talked fiscal responsibility. After all the second jobs and stealing I have encountered from my husband frugality really turns me on.

Yesterday when husband was over working on the house (I tried to be out most of the time he was here, but since he's not returning my phonecalls or emails about practical things such as money, the dogs, and the house I have to get him when I can) for about five minutes I thought that divorce couldn't be that bad after all he's put me through. That was the first time I've felt that way. Maybe things can move along to the upswing- I'm so tired of feeling sad, hurt, and rejected. I want to be young and carefree- at least one night a week. I've sacrificed myself and my happiness and youth for the last five years as I've dealt with a variety of avoidable and unavoidable tragedies- the two times husband lost his job, his diagnosis with schizophrena, his overspending problems, lots of things breaking in the house when I was working three jobs just to pay the NORMAL bills- I deserve to have fun once in a while.

Thursday night I had the best time I'd had in months. Maybe in over a year. I was out with an attractive guy, no matter what the meaning of that was, I was listening to a good band, I was jumping and dancing with the music and I was happy. Here's to finding that more often.

Alone

I haven't been writing as much. Partially because I have very little time while I'm student teaching, partially because I feel I'm writing pretty much the same things day after day. Rough day, busy, depressed, miss my husband who did me wrong. I feel like a country song- and I much prefer bluegrass.
This weekend I've managed to keep from sliding into the abyss of depression I usually sink into around 4 pm on Friday and can't manage to slip out of until sometime Monday or Tuesday. The depression this weekend was still there, but only skimming the surface.
Wish I had more time to spend with my dog. Wish that I was spending this weekend with my husband instead of by myself.
I'm still writing despite the long time since comments were posted last. That's okay. I still feel it's important for me to get my feelings out even if they are repetitive and illogical. I know he did me wrong-repeatedly and incessantly. I know I would be better off, that he's mentally ill and treats me badly. But he's still my husband and I still love him despite the fact that it would be much easier on me if I didn't.
I don't know what I'm going to do once student teaching is over and I'm not busy any more and I'll have a lot of time to think about being miserable.

Ow ow ow.

My tailbone is bruised. It hurts to change position- either get up from sitting or to sit down, and it hurts to go up stairs, and hurts a little to walk. I bruised it sitting down on the seat belt clicker accidentally when I was crawling in my passenger door and scooting across to my driver's seat.

This is the gift that keeps on giving. I can't wait to see what will happen next week.

The Perils of Penelope Pitstop, vol. 17

When last we met, Penelope Pitstop was recovering from the economic hit she had taken when she visited the mechanic for a flat tire last week that resulted in over 200 dollars worth of work on her car and enjoying the fixed single toilet in her house that had finally stopped flooding the living room underneath it.

In this latest adventure, Penelope, a clever alias for our heroine blueclio, is in the process of leaving her house at 6:30 am in order to teach the lesson which she had hurriedly prepared the night before. This lesson was created when a previous lesson, structured around a video, had fallen through at the last minute due to no fault of her own, and written after she got back from her evening class. She had stayed up late writing the lesson, and she needed to get to school early in order to prepare it.

Penelope's lunch was swinging from her left hand as she opened the back seat on the driver's side to put her bag and her books in the back seat. Her hands now empty, she unlocked the driver's door and grabbed the handle. The door opened three inches and stopped. Penelope rubbed her eyes, perplexed. She tried to open the door again, and once again, it would not budge past three inches.

She looked closely at the car. It was still dark outside, and in the dim streetlight she hadn't noticed that her car was sporting a brand new and huge dent in between the door and the wheel well.

Because she had written the lesson at the last minute, she could not call her supervising teacher and rely on him to teach it. Thus she had no time to waste. Penelope climbed into her car via the passenger door, scooted across the front, and sat her tailbone squarely and roughly on the seat belt buckle.

It was the beginning of another wonderful day.

>>>If someone knows who stole my kharma, could you tell them I'd like it back?

Friday. Phew.

2 down, 8 to go. This student teaching thing is going quickly. And Monday, three of the classes are mine alone. It's a little scary. It's a lot overwhelming.
Do I really want to do this?
Yesterday was a rough day. Had a lot to do, accidentally made another teacher mad. I really needed some support. The kind a spouse and best friend would give. I'm tired of coming home every night to be alone and spend most of the night ignoring my dog by doing schoolwork. It's not just the school work either. It's the ALONE. After 11-13 hours gone during the day, I really don't have the time or the energy to leave and seek out company either. And I don't have close friends yet, just acquaintances so far. Close friends take time. Even then, they don't replace my husband.
I ate half lunches most of the week because I didn't realize I was out of some stuff. I don't have the time to go to the grocery Mon-Thurs. I have to make sure all the bills are paid, moneywise, and getting the stamp on the bill-wise all by myself. I have to do all the cleaning, including the cleaning up after husband when he comes over to remodel. I spend too much of my free time every other day or so washing dishes. (I am the dishwasher in this house.) I have to cook all the food. I don't get a day off from taking out the dogs, and must spend an extra 30 minutes a day taking them out (which would be 15 if he were here.) Doing this all by myself is exhausting! The last time I lived alone, there wasn't as much upkeep, weren't as many bills, etc.
Here's to a restful (if homework filled) weekend.

Almost Dreamland

I woke up around 3:20 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep. I decided to make the most of my time and snuggly Darcy, my shared custody dog. I still didn't feel sleepy so I watched some tv and loved on my girls. I drifted off to sleep about 20 minutes before my alarm went off at 5:50.

Somewhere before sleep but when I was not quite awake I thought I felt another person in bed with me. I knew, in the strange way that you know things in dreams, that it was my husband. He laid alongside me and put his arm around me. I could feel the hair on his hand. I could feel his weight against my body. It felt so real. It wasn't a dream in that there was a particular scenario going on. I still knew he had left me, and I had no questions as to why he was in bed holding me. I was thankful that he was there and I felt that there would be a time for questions later.

This vision has haunted me all day long. It's made me cry a few times, in short bursts. I almost had a panic attack while my students were taking a test. It's really quite cruel. It's hard to escape the pain all day long, and have to be attacked by my subconcious as well?

At least I'll have plenty to discuss with my counselor tomorrow.

Am I Now the Man?

I had to watch over study hall for the first time by myself on Friday. The previous day, this study hall made the teacher in charge practically cry. I looked forward to the hour with trepidation.

The point of study hall is to actually study, though the students also can read for fun. The students aren't supposed to talk, or to sleep. I asked a student, who was putting his head down, if he had something else to work on. Student A, let's call him Fillbert, had a snit fit. Because of their behavior the previous day, they were on notice that they got one warning and then detention. Fillbert had already gotten his warning at the beginning of the hour. And thus I gave my first detention.

Fillbert attempted to play upon my sympathies, asking me why I had to be like that, couldn't I give him a break, and it really did make me feel bad. I don't know how many countless classes I wanted to sleep through in high school. But I knew if I backed down, Fillbert and the rest of the troublesome class were going to lose respect for me and my discipline for the rest of the semester. And it worked. He didn't give me any trouble for the rest of the hour.

I am the Man. Stay on task or I will give you a detention. I have the power.

Do Dates Have Meaning?

In honor of my recent birthday. Not sure much of it is true, but fairly fun.

Your Birthdate: January 24

You understand people well and are a natural born therapist. A peacemaker, people always seem to get along when you are around. You tend to be a father or mother figure to friends, even to those older than you. You enjoy your role, and you find that you are close to many people. Your strength: Your devotion Your weakness: Reliance on others for happiness Your power color: Lilac Your power symbol: Heart Your power month: June

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Pardon Me

But I just discovered blogthings.com. I may put way too many of these cute little survey results on the blog since I'm not feeling creative enough to come up with much interesting new material of my own. I could tell the story of the first detention that I gave out in school yesterday. Or my review of Must Love Dogs, a movie about two newly divorced folks looking for love. Or maybe about my new Kohl's clearance Oscar the Grouch jammies. (See, my favorite book when I was a toddler was How to Be a Grouch By Oscar the Grouch).

But see, I don't feel really much like telling any of those stories tonight. So if one of those stories sounds spine-tinglingly interesting to you, then you'll just have to wait on the edge of your seats until tomorrow or the next day.

Right now what I really want to do is to try and enjoy my movie, my jammies, and my new flannel sheets that I got at rock bottom prices, and my visit from dog 2, Darcy. So I will. So there.

P. S. Cat Power's new cd was worth the wait.
P.P.S. I'm trying to think of a name for my new jade plant. Herbert? Roger? Spike?
P.P.P.S. I'm not reading anything right now besides my school planning stuff. But I did finish the book on Buffy.

Not a Surprise.

Hmmm... could this be me?

You Have a Melancholic Temperament

Introspective and reflective, you think about everything and anything. You are a soft-hearted daydreamer. You long for your ideal life. You love silence and solitude. Everyday life is usually too chaotic for you. Given enough time alone, it's easy for you to find inner peace. You tend to be spiritual, having found your own meaning of life. Wise and patient, you can help people through difficult times. At your worst, you brood and sulk. Your negative thoughts can trap you. You are reserved and withdrawn. This makes it hard to connect to others. You tend to over think small things, making decisions difficult.

What Temperment Are You?

Without a Pot to Piss in... Literally

The title doesn't refer to my aforementioned money problems. Though those are fun. I mean, really. My heating bill was massive last month and the house is freezing. My shampoo is sitting on the bathroom window sill and it is literally frozen. Between class and student teaching and my birthday dinner, I've hardly been home twenty minutes this week. My husband is avoiding my calls and my emails about practical details (he has not paid the car payment for his car this month, which my name is also on....) did not wish me a happy birthday (nor is it a surprise, but still), and I have to teach a lesson tomorrow on a topic I know nothing about. I have done dishes, not had enough time to clean up the mess husband left when plastering Sunday afternoon (I cleaned up after myself when I spent the last 2 days priming and painting, but he works 3 hours one Sunday and forgets how to use a broom or vacuum), and am pretty much out of clean underwear. I should be asleep right now, because I have to get up in another 7 hours.
But the climax of my whole evening- and the connection to the title- my toilet now floods the bathroom and leaks through the living room ceiling upon flushing!!!!
I was looking forward to spending a few uninterrupted hours here tomorrow afternoon since I don't have to stay after school or go to class. Hours I could wash my clothes, wash my dishes, clean up after the remodelling, run (which I must admit, sometimes sends me to the bathroom) and watch a little tv while doing my homework and snuggling my dog. But am I going to do that? No- I'm going to have to camp out with my parents. Admittedly, it's warmer, but I just want to be home!!! The packing alone will leech too much time from my afternoon.
Well, I'm crazy if I stay up writing this any longer instead of sleeping. Wish or pray for my sanity, based on your own personal belief system. I'll need it.

I'm Older Than I've Ever Been and Now I'm Even Older

Today wasn't a terrible day. Listened to some good music. Spent another day student teaching. I'm really busy... class last night, dinner with my parents in honor of my birth tonight, and class tomorrow.... I need to vacuum and wash dishes but I've hardly been home. I feel sorry for my poor dog. She's hardly seen me this week.

One of my favorite bands is gonna be in town next month. I'm really excited that I will get to see them, and I've actually heard of their opening act, too. What luck! Husband also likes them, but I don't want to ruin my evening. I think I might forget to tell him they're in town. And just happen to be wearing a t-shirt from the show when he drops Darcy off for a visit. "Oh," I'll say, so innocently, "I didn't tell you they're in town? I must have forgot. It was a great show."

I don't want to ruin my evening with him there. It's a small venue. I don't think I'm being petty.

I'm still pretty depressed but I vowed to not think about it today, so there. I'm going to push the worry and pain out of my mind for at least another three hours, and I'll be too busy to think of it again before Thursday evening.

Down Day

Today's been one of those down days. I am pretty sad and hurt and angry and don't have really a lot to do with that except pour it out here. Everyone who would listen to me is tired of hearing about this. You all probably are too, but bear with me.
It's my birthday on Tuesday and my only birthday wish is that my husband would come home to be with me, and tell me that everything is going to be all right. Instead, I will probably spend the evening alone doing my homework.
My world is not right. I carry the pain with me daily, and sometimes it's no heavier a burden than a pendant hanging off my neck. Other times it is a millstone that drags me down to the earth with each step, reminding me constantly how miserable my life is and how little the person who said he would love, honor, and cherish me forever actually cares for me.
If it wasn't for my dog, I'd want to die. I can't really imagine my life ever being happy again.

The Late Twenties

Reading: Sex and the Slayer, a book about the gender politics of Buffy.
Watching: The first two seasons of Moonlighting on DVD. I watched it as a child, but at the time I didn't know the facts of life, so I missed a ton of the jokes.
Can't wait: for a new eppy of Veronica Mars and the new CD by Cat Power that comes out next week- on my b-day. The day which I will officially enter my (drum roll) late twenties.

Now I know I will not be ancient by reaching my late twenties, but it has me down a little bit. I feel like I should have accomplished more by now. You can piss away your early twenties, and spend your mid twenties paying your dues, but now that I am reaching my late twenties I feel I should have at least some results to show for the hard work I've been putting in for the last decade.

Score card:
Career- Student teacher and graduate student. No benefits and barely a living wage at 60 hours a week.

Marital Status: deserted

Parenthood Status: No kids. None in the near future, despite the five year marriage. Custody of one dog full time, and part time custody of my other dog, if that counts.

Living arrangements: Living with aforementioned canines, no humans. Preparing to sell my house to move into (shudder) my parents' basement.

What I have to show for my life: a couple of college degrees. My car is paid off....

This is more depressing than I'd intended.
It was a long day and I'm sleepy, so I hope you'll forgive me. And I have a scratchy throat. And I sat through many boring hours of eduspeak today at student teacher orientation.

You'll go blind!

New research links Viagra and optic nerve damage.

Princess Klotilde

My dog, Chloe, has been particularly good today. I managed to clip four of her nails and give her a bath, and she has decided not to put on airs and ignore me or take out her annoyance about the clipping and the bathing on me. In part, this is probably because I also brought home a huge bag of bones in addition to the dog shampoo. Also, she doesn't have my husband to run to and snuggle up to instead of me, and this dog loves to snuggle. Right now she's looking very sweet, shiny, and clean all curled up in a chair sleeping. I wish I could find that kind of peace, though I guess I don't really know what I look like asleep. Maybe I'm just as cute and peaceful looking, though I doubt that I stick my legs in the air.
The bath was quite an experience. Looking back, I probably should have not attempted it fully clothed, as I left the bathroom looking as if I went swimming in my clothes. She jumped out of the tub mid bath (half her body was still soapy) and it took a great deal of coaxing to get her back into the tub- and some heavy lifting. The bathroom now smells more like wet dog than of plaster dust, not sure if that's an improvement. I'm thinking of painting my newly-fixed bathroom plaster a light purple. What does everyone think? It shouldn't be overpowering, since the light grey tile ends above eye level. Okay, short person eye level.
It's been an all right weekend. Went to one of my favorite restaurants with my family in honor of my upcoming birthday. The food was wonderful, but that's the place my husband usually takes me annual for my birthday.
However I must add that things are not so hard as they were last week on that front. I mean, I ache and wish he were home, but after telling him that I wanted him to come home last Wednesday I felt that a weight was lifted from me. I told him what I needed to, and the despair is not there like it was last week.
I've also done quite a bit of cleaning, home repair, and furniture moving. It's amazing how different a room can make you feel when one or two dressers or shelves are sitting in a different place.
It's also interesting how cleaning a room can make me feel- all that dust and plaster detritus kicked up into the air has really bothered my asthma.
Now, I don't really have very active asthma. I hardly ever have attacks, and haven't even carried an inhaler with me since I got in shape a couple of years ago. Yet yesterday, all that dust kept me up at night, having a hard time breathing but not quite gasping for breath. And I can't find a damn inhaler. I probably have four or five, but I have no idea where they are.
Still reading: the book about Austen. Really good, should finish it today.
Watching: The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Run of the mill horror. Better than average, but not really great.
Wish me luck- student teacher orientation starts tomorrow. In just a few days I shall be inflicting myself on about 100 hormone-driven and mostly class privelaged youngsters at "Pine Groves" High School. May God have mercy on my soul.

Update

For those of you who are wondering, based on the musings of former posts-
I am reading: a book about Jane Austen.
I am watching: Angels in America, which is simply brilliant.

The Year Ahead

For those of you who don't know this, more than likely because I have been more focused on emotional than physical states of being in this entire blog, I am a runner.

That is to say, I am not a very fast runner, or a very talented or graceful runner, but I enjoy running fairly passionately. My week feels off if I have not run at least 20 miles. I feel sinfully guilty if I am injured or ill and have to cut back on my running. Stress is worse than usual if I can't find the time to pound out five miles a few days a week. And I have been suffering from bilateral runner's knee since August. This means that I have been running very little, though slowly and slowly more, since starting physical therapy in October. Yesterday, for the first time since August, I managed to run a whole six miles.

This may seem like a ton of running to those of you not in shape, or not as addicted to this sport as I am, but before my knees hurt so much I could barely walk I was running near 30 miles a week, and reaching about 10 miles for my distance run one day a week. 6 miles is a good mark to have reached, since it is longer than my usual runs of around 5 miles a piece, but it is still short of the 10-11 miles I had been reaching and the half-marathon that I'm training for in April. But it's a start.

Anyway, so last year I subscribed to Runner's World, and with that subscription came a free training calendar. Not extremely spiffy, but it had dates and grids and suggestions, and a place to write down and add up my daily, weekly, and monthly mileages. I did not get this calendar for free this year, so I decided, after a year of knowing what I wrote down and what I didn't, that I would create my own calendar on the computer, with my weeks starting on Monday as I usually put them in my running. I have 2 weeks on each page, and spots for weekly running goals (for stuff like distance and speed- useful since I am still builing up my mileage and am governed by the ten percent rule- one should not add more than 10 percent to one's mileage in a week or one will likely get injured).

What really affected me was typing in the dates. I have goals for the first third of the year, which is probably good enough, because I may hurt myself or get sick during that time, and then have to rework my goals for the rest of the year if I tried to make goals through December. But when I started typing in dates I was thinking- How will my student teaching be going by this point in March? Will I still be living in my house at this date in May or with my parents? Will I be running on my treadmill in their basement instead of my spare room? Will I still be married when I reach our fifth wedding anniversary? Will he have come back to me by this holiday? Where will my new teaching job be? Will I be starting it at this date late in August? Will I be thinking about how he will have been gone an entire year on Nov. 1, 2006, or will I be thinking about how far we've come since then? Will I have a new condo? Will we have a new condo?

No matter the answers to all of these questions, it should be a momentous year.

Movies for the Dumped

I am perfecting the art of finding the perfect movies to watch when dumped or broken-hearted. It really is an art- one has to carefully balance the amount of joy and escape one can expect to get from a particular movie and/or genre while considering the amount of painful recognition one might see, thus ruining the escape/pleasure and possibly make one feel worse than when the movie began. So far, here's my score card.

Drama- steer clear of this genre altogether, unless you are assured it's some kind of drama/suspense, or so painstakingly well made that the art of the film will distract you from any minor love story contained within its plot. If it is a love story drama or a break-up story drama don't touch it with a ten-foot pole, unless you are the type that enjoys weepy movies when you're feeling down already. I managed to make it through Brokeback Mountain and The Constant Gardener recently. Neither bothered me too much, though that could be in part because 1.) I'm not a gay cowboy facing a breakup, and 2.) CG had a lot of interesting suspense. It was still sad, but in a general, our world priorities are really messed up kind of way and not in the specific he broke my heart kind of way.

Comedy- This genre is a real toss-up. You could find a really good non-romantic comedy that will give you some laughs and keep your mind off of love gone wrong for a few hours, even an evening. Or you could blanch at an unexpected love story or break-up joke that will leave you jarred for that same evening. In the comedy genre at the moment, I am mostly sticking to tv, so I don't have much to recommend. Scrubs was really funny last night....

Action has never really been my thing to begin with. Since I don't usually enjoy action movies, I run the risk of being so bored that I am not distracted at all from my troubles, and that is no good. I suppose a good action movie might do someone some good, though I'm sure it would be hard to find more than a handful.

Horror seems to be the best genre of all to watch. There's usually no love story (and if there is, it's almost always so shallow and badly written that it doesn't remind you of your own bad relationship). The plot is out of the realm of the ordinary, yet predictable enough to be comforting. And fearing the boogey man (or foggy pirates, or posessed girls in a video tape) is more fun than fearing that you've wasted the last ten years of your life and that you were a complete fool.

I will be watching either Dark Water or The Exorcism of Emily Rose tonight.

Science News

Teen sleep, cloning, and infant circumcision herpes... ewwwww.

Sometime in the Morning

Falling asleep isn't the problem that it was. After a full day I'm usually tired. The problem is the staying asleep all night. The problem is the morning sickness.
No, not the pregnant kind. It's the kind where I slip slightly into consciousness from my warm cocoon-y dreamworld and the realization that my husband has left me, my heart aches all day long, and I don't know when things will ever get better pierces my sleep. At this point the fight-or-flight starts to kick in, and I can't even dream of getting back to sleep again. Then I settle into the morning nausea that comes with the recognition that my life is so far off track and I don't know how to fix it.
That makes 8 hours sleep a problem. Not that I need that, or always got it before. The dogs usually need to go out early in the morning, and when it's not break time, I usually need to leave fairly early as well.
So now it's time to hurry along and face another day outside my bed.

New Format

I know I'm not very snappy with the formatting yet. I promise I'll try and brush up on my programming to find something neat to spice it all up. Don't want to add any identifying photographs, incriminating the innocent and all, so I might have to spend some quality time with Adobe before I can do anything neat.
He's getting out of the hospital today. I know it's not right, but I almost wish he were there a little longer. When he was there I knew I would see him everyday, once he's out it's another story.
Trying to decide what book to read next. I'd like to read a couple more before classes start again next week because my reading time will once again not be my own. It's a toss up between an interesting history book I haven't had time to read (a book about the Salem Witch Trials) and a classic piece of fiction (Bleak House by Dickens). Hopefully I will have time for both. Dickens is fairly wordy, though....

Monster Hospital

It's hard going there every day, trying to be supportive and make small talk, pretend everything is all right. I just want him to come home to me. It would be a lot easier if I knew the flowers he bought were for secret Santa, or some friend's funeral or something and not for a woman. It would be a lot easier if I knew that when the hospitalization was all over, he'd be back here and loving me again. It would be a lot easier if I wasn't going to run out of money in a month.
The hospital is really something, too. They all are wearing these paper scrubs, and the hospital is about 85 degrees. It's a small unit, and there's not an awful lot to do but sleep.
Sleep is what I want right now. So depressed. Why should a wife have to beg for her husband to come home?

Funny story. Sort of.

My younger sister has been in contact with a guy we both sort of dated in high school. It was an interesting situation, complicated, and kind of icky to think about. Since this guy was not the love of my life I tend not to think about it much.
Anyway, this guy was my age and my sister was a freshman, three years younger. They went out a couple times at the beginning of the summer after my and (let's call him) Joe-Bob's graduation. During this time, though he and I had already known each other through a shared class, Joe-Bob began to show more of an interest in me than he had before. After one of their two dates, my sister went to bed and he stayed and talked to me for at least an hour.
Strangely enough, JB started calling me after that. And we went to a movie together once, but the meaning of it all was not well-defined. Still, how many straight 18 year old boys go to a Meg Ryan romantic comedy alone with a girl if he's not expecting some date-like action going on?
After this time, JB stopped calling and coming over. Both my sis and myself. Fine with me, I wasn't really waiting by the phone or anything. He was nice and all, but the situation was too weird for me, and an old boyfriend of mine had just gotten back in touch with me as well.
Now for the present situation: he and my married sister are emailing regularly, he's telling her that she's the one that got away, and that he and I were only friends. It could possibly be construed that way, though he would have had to forget a few things he told me at the time for that interp to work, but really, this was over a decade ago, not a huge deal. He's engaged, though and telling her how she was so wonderful, wishes they hadn't lost touch.
I'm reminding her she's married, and that this fascination is probably more related to him than to her. Real relationships take a lot of work and are a lot harder than merely idealizing a girl he dated twice many years ago. But this sets her off on a whole list of guys and regrets she had about relationships lost or never tried.
This, of course, really starts getting me going. Once again I am in high school, and thinking about how she always had several dates lined up and guys hardly ever paid attention to me at all. And I start fuming, and wondering again, what is it about my sister? Not to sound like a narcissistic bitch, but I'm prettier and smarter than my sister. (Not to mention when I was 18 and she 15, I was the only one with actual breasts...) Why did she always have tons of interested guys?
Can't your family always bring you back to that place, you know, where you feel like a jealous kid again?
In other news....
He's doing okay at the hospital. Brought him books to read, and a card. He seemed happy to see me for a few minutes. They want to put him on one of the older antipsychotics. Errr. Those things are really nasty.

It Happened

He's back in the hospital, no huge surprise there. I know I can't fix him, but I wish he'd stop shutting me out. He just surrounds himself in silence and in isolation, and he keeps getting worse. The depression makes it worse, and if all he does is shut himself away, he's never going to be happy.
I've realized how depressing this blog is- not enough self-deprecating humor to make it more uplifting. Maybe I shall experiment with different tones in order to make the pain more entertaining. I promise, it's easier to do when I'm talking to people in public with which I have a passing acquaintance than it is to the net.
I've taken to comforting myself through old tv shows. Right now Buffy and Full House allow me to cope. FH is the comfort food- every problem can be solved in 30 minutes and everything goes back to normal at the end of a show. Buffy on the other hand, is simply a masterpiece in which I can engross myself. All the themes, the texts and metatexts, the gender politics, the metaphors are amazingly rich, deep, and mostly truthful feeling.
Overall, it's less calories than comfort food and more distracting to boot.
Any other stress relieving or comfort-inducing strategies that you rely on that won't make me gain 30 pounds or land me in jail?

New Year

I might have to scream if one more person tells me "Happy New Year." I am not happy. And this year might prove to be almost as horrible as last year, as I look out over a fairly likely divorce, the small possibility instead of having to committ my husband, and the prospect of selling the house I love in order to move into my parents' basement.
I am visiting relatives, and we went to their church this morning. It was a fairly uncomfortable prospect. They broke out into sharing about what they are thankful for, blessings from the last year, and I had a really hard time not crying. I am a religious person, but not of the touchy-feely variety. And on top of everything else right now, I'm aching fairly fiercely. I fought off the impulse to stand up and share my pain, to thank Jesus aloud for allowing my husband to be mentally ill- so ill he doesn't trust anyone, so ill he hurts himself physically and everyone else mentally. So ill he can't even count on me or his family for help, but he runs away from his marriage and his life. So ill he becomes a new, humorless person who can't love anyone. Who lost his easy smile, and all the jokes and intimacy. So ill he steals from me and can't think of anyone else's pain but his. Thankful that God would allow this. Allow me to be able to lose my love and my home. I'm really thankful.
That and the shaking hands. I hate people touching me- it's gross and on top of it, it's cold and flu season. But people come up to you and stick their hand in yours. Errrr. You know, you exchange more germs in a handshake than you do with sexual intercourse. And at least 10 people forced me into a handshake. One more than once. I'm not carrying any weapons, I promise!
(for those of you who are unaware, the handshake started as a custom to convince your neighbor that you were unarmed when you met.)
I wish I were home. It's easier being miserable in one's own home than abroad.
I am thankful for my dog, but she's hundreds of miles away.
Happy New Year, everyone.

More Fun

He's been stealing money from me- and buying flowers for someone who isn't me, his aunt, or his mother. On top of it all, he's facing another one of his fun psychotic breaks. If he wasn't clinically crazy this thing could be a whole lot easier. Then again, maybe telling myself that he wouldn't be doing all this to me if he wasn't sick would help too.
Spent half the day at the bank yesterday trying to sort all this out. Needed to start a new account, but just paid the property tax out of the old one and don't have time to pay it another time from a new account. But couldn't trust to leave the money in the account because he could take it, or some of it, and then the property tax check would bounce. So they let me use some nifty form that allows them to take that check out of my new account.
I got a new cell phone. Actually, I got a cell phone. I've never had one before. My parents added me to their account so it's only 10 dollars a month, and I can call them or anyone on our network any time and not use minutes. It's great because I've been spending a lot of time on line (so as not to be tempted to call him) and I'm spending more time driving alone after dark. Will be helpful for emergencies, as soon as I can figure out how to use the darn thing. At the moment, all I can seem to do is to call my grandmother. Will sit down with the instruction manual tonight and start my schooling in the wide world of cell phone use. If nothing else, need to change the annoying-as-hell ring tone. Why can't phones just ring? Why do they have to play some tinny and corny version of somebody's favorite song?

Tired.

One last project until I am done for the semester. Then a few weeks of bliss in which I will not have to worry about homework, grading, or reading a million books a week on topics I am only vaguely interested in.
My sleep schedule has gotten way off. I'm staying up late into the night and getting up later and later in the morning- this will have to be fixed. It's just that at the moment there is no reason for me to be getting up at 6:30 in the morning, thus no reason for me to try and fall asleep before midnight.
Haven't really felt like writing much lately. Everything has really been much of the same. Waiting, wondering, scrimping by on little cash.
Hopefully that process will hurry up and end soon.

I love dog stories in the news- this one made me laugh.
Things are a little less busy, a little less crazy, but there's still some sad white noise.
Hoping the next holidays are less depressing than Thanksgiving.

Hmmm...

Netflix didn't admit it, but I wouldn't be surprised. I often feel like Blockbuster online doesn't send out a new movie to me fast enough, and it seems to be more often when I'm watching movies faster. I usually blame it on the inadequacies of the postal service, however.
Personal life- that's still as shaky as jello in San Fran I'm sad to say. Ran into husband in public recently while he was with his too-close-for-my own taste female friend. Fun. Left me shaky and wondering once again if on top of everything else, he has been unfaithful.

Errr...

Yes, we don't use hard torture....
Hope everyone's day is going better than mine.
Have a happy Thanksgiving! Don't overeat, it is harder to take off the weight than to never gain it in the first place.

Rough Night

Things have been good on this month's scale- that is, on the scale of crying so hard I can't breathe to being just plain miserable- lately, but I did get a little down last night. I don't like the upbeat casual way he speaks to me over the phone, as if I'm some high school acquaintance that happened to run into him at the mall. I'm his wife, and he's creating a whole new life of his own in which he can cut me completely out and have no one to complain about him spending too much money or ignoring me to the point where I have to request that he spend one night a week with me.
I don't like this waiting. Personally, I think space is for people too chicken to just make that final break, but it's not like we were dating. We are married. We've been together almost nine years- pretty much the entirety of my adulthood (and his extended childhood, I might add....)That should mean something. Instead, while he's living it up on his own and ignoring me and our marriage completely I get to wait to see if he deems me worthy of his effort to work on the relationship.
There's so much more to complain about, to go into, but it's best left to something more private even than an anonymous blog.
This week is going to be hard. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. And I don't even know when he's going to talk to me about something serious again. And his birthday is fairly soon-
Ugh. I wish that my life could be more about something other than him right now, but it's hard. With so much going on with work and school I don't have a lot of time left to do something other than make it through each day- which includes planning for a future that may or may not be with him, and to make sure the bills keep getting paid whether or not he can continue to contribute to our shared household expenses. On the other hand, if I wasn't as busy as I am, I'd probably have a harder time because I'd need to fill it with activities and people that would keep my mind off him. While this may be fairly self evident to anyone reading this, the problems with this option are rife. Most activities cost some money. There are a limited number of cheap or free things to do, especially once the sun sets. And since I haven't seen a dime from him this month, in fact he did his best to drain our joint account, I am unsure whether I will be able to afford both gasoline and 2 meals a day next month. So even cheap is a problem.
Well, here's to the hope that today will be better.

Sleepy

I have a lot of things to do tomorrow. But, lucky me, I finally get a day at home! After working or being in class for all but 3 days this semester (including weekends) I can take a day to rest- and finish all that homework I haven't had the time to do during the busy-ness.
Looking forward to not working weekends any more- just a few more weeks. If I can save enough money, I'd like to do so many things- take guitar lessons again, yoga, an obedience class for my doggy. Most important, I'd just like to not have to work every weekend!
I have no idea what's happening with the marriage. Trying not to think about it too much at this point. Have to get through the next couple of weeks first. I have a ton of papers and projects to finish by the end of the first week in December.
I broke down and turned the heat up a notch, despite the possibility of not being able to afford it. My house is now a toasty 54 degrees Fahrenheit, where it was previously a chilling 52 degrees. May not seem like a huge difference to you, but I sure can feel it.
Well, the sleepiness will convince me to sleep sometime soon. Probably no one's reading, but writing helps somewhat anyway. It feels nice to find words for things, classify them, write them down. It makes the pain more manageable somehow.

Life Sucks and Other Understatements

He was moving out this time last week when I was in class. I got home and found a message on the answering machine. No warning, he's just gone. And he's patting himself on the back for alienating his family and friends.
Things have been pretty rough. He wrote a lot of checks out of the joint account and hasn't contributed a red cent to any of the joint household bills for this month. His name is on the mortgage, too. And I don't make enough money to pay all the bills by myself. I will not get an extra job to pay for his new bachelor pad.
I've moved past the point where I have to sing showtunes in my head to keep from crying in public, but I'm still wallowing in pain.
Any logical person would have left him years ago. I've done so much for him, and his reaction is that he resents those choices of mine, telling me I should have only made choices for myself. I don't understand what his definition of marriage is- that we should have gone on leading separate lives under the same roof? I shouldn't have considered taking a second job to pay his bills and instead allowed us to sink into bankruptcy? I should have been able to sustain a romantic passion for him despite the fact that I had to beg to get him to spend one weekend night a week with me?
I wish I had a magic wand that could fix everything. Or that I had won the big lottery jackpot a little while ago. Instead I'm going to have to figure out how I can pay to heat my house to 54 degrees (Fahrenheit) while continuing to eat this winter. And get my house ready to sell so I can move in with my parents. I love my parents, but that's not exactly a fun option. I wish the pain would go away.