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.