The Three Of Us

How Long Has This Been Going On?

2006-05-14T16:57:00.000-07:00

Blah. I am an emotional mess when it comes to you. Everything is so weird. Not a mess, I suppose, so much as a misunderstanding, as in I think I understand one moment but then am turned upside down and roundabout. There is never a middle ground, even though that's what we'd like to think of it as. It's not a middle ground. It's a fence. And we're trying to straddle it. And I really hope it is not unsuccessfull. I don't know if that word is correctly spelled. You see what you do to me?

**EDIT** Looking at that word, NOW, I can say that it has an extra L. I don't spell things wrong, dammit. I can't believe that happened to me.

I Think I Love You, So What Am I So Afraid Of?

2006-04-24T21:20:00.000-07:00

I have the uncomfortable feeling that while you may not be perfect, you are, in fact, perfect for me. But I don't know if I'm perfect for you. And that scares me. What if I've finally found what I've always been looking for, and it's all going to amount to nothing? I don't know if I'm falling...I think I am one day and dismiss it the next...but I know something more is happening. Something more than I agreed to. I don't know if I can handle that. There are so many flaws, some of them tiny and some of them gaps a mile wide....It's strange to say it, but you could be one of the best friends I've ever had. I don't want to lose that. I'd give up everything just to stay that way, and more? I'm too frightened to think what that might mean. So many I don't knows....Jenni would say I need to find out the answers. But what if the answers aren't what I'm looking for? And, even scarier, what if they are?

And, what if I wasn't so damn afraid? What if there's really nothing to fear?

What If

2006-02-01T20:27:00.000-08:00

I've talked to Brian. Strange, but not strange, if you know what I mean. Strange because I haven't talked to him in months, and I'm sure a lot has happened to both of us, but not strange because it wasn't weird, just like we hadn't stopped talking at all. Odd.
The pediatrician thinks Lydia has asthma. Like that's all I needed. They gave her steroids. Does that mean she'll get really big muscles? I wonder.
I have no idea what I'm talking about. Hopefully I will get to see Jen for a bit tomorrow... I really need to. I need her input on my life and my state of mind. I miss her like crazy. I think I should be visiting Yoda, too. I'm going to miss the crap out of her once she goes a continent away. Yet at the same time, I'm so glad she's going to do it, because it means so much to her, and because maybe she really will get a FRESH START. Which is what I want, but am not brave enough to go get. I think I should tell her this.

Auld Lang Syne

2006-01-01T11:37:00.000-08:00

I resolve to:

Smile more.
Laugh more.
Potty train two resistant toddlers (while smiling and laughing!).
Quit my job, because I don't want it anymore.
Eat more salad.
Read as much as possible. Still.
Love, love, love, every day.

Haunt You Every Day

2005-12-22T22:48:00.000-08:00

These are the words that hamper my progress

At times I can't move
At times I can hardly breathe

When you say you love me
The world goes still so still inside and
When you say you love me
I know why I'm alive

When you're with me if I close my eyes
There are times I feel like I can fly

Thank you Josh Groban, for your beautiful voice, and beautiful lyrics, and the poignantly beautiful way you have ripped out my heart. Honestly. I love you.

But at any rate. I'm sitting here, tears in my eyes. I don't know why. Holidays? I don't think that's it. I'm just waiting for the great romance of my life. Which is never going to come. Ha. I dunno. Weezer makes me cry tonight too, thus the title of this post. That is a seriously fucking BEAUTIFUL song folks. I know you probably think I took a little too much NyQuil or something, and I'll admit I'm tired, but I can recognize lovely things no matter what. Josh Groban is a god. Weezer makes me float. I love Michael Buble. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen.

M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S

Your Cheatin' Heart

2005-12-21T20:50:00.000-08:00

What the hell, assholes. By assholes, I mean stupid, insensitive, incredibly uncaring, ruthless, cowardly, lying puddles of slime also known as men who cheat. Or women, it doesn't really have a gender here, my anger. The funny thing is I'm not the one who's been cheated on. My best friend just found out that her idiot boyfriend has been sleeping with his EX-girlfriend for a month, all the while being vociferously angry at HER for her suspicions. And now he wants to dump her with their way-too-expensive apartment that he insisted they get, so he can run off to bliss of some kind with his tramp and her daughter. Never mind my best friends' daughter, the one he's been helping to raise and taking to school, and promising her a home and a family for. She has to switch schools, go back to being a single-parent family, and hopefully, if her mom can hack it, have a roof over her head. But she's seven, she can go out and get a job, right?

I'm sick of all this non-responsibility in the world. "Homeless kids aren't my problem." Well then whose the fuck are they? "I couldn't just lose my ex-girlfriend AGAIN" Trust me. There was a simple reason you lost her the first time, namely HELLO, she was sleeping with three other dumb fucks just like you, and apparently realised long before you did that you were the dumbest. She was spot-on there, buddy.

And yeah. Maybe my anger is a bit unfounded, considering it's not my relationship, or my life, but I happen to think that our friends are our links to a life we may otherwise not live so happily, and damnit, I think you should take responsibility and children and family and FUCKING FIDELITY seriously.

I bought a friend of mine a Christmas present today, I don't know why. He's a good friend, and I wanted him to know that. But he wants to be more, and he won't be, ever, and I hope this didn't make him think otherwise. But damnit, he was thrilled. He doesn't get too many gifts, and I think he was truly excited, so that was really nice. It made me wish it was more than it was, but c'est la vie, you always look back. I hope he likes it. I hope he knows I treasure him as a friend. And I hope he can be okay with the fact that that's what he will remain. I think he will.

I am finally FINALLY finished with Christmas shopping, except for my cousin and her mom and brother. But those will be simple... a romance novel, a breast cancer pink ribbon something, and a toy of some sort. I hope.

If I don't write in again til afterwards, Peace On Earth.

You're A Mean One

2005-12-14T22:12:00.000-08:00

Except I'm not talking to the Grinch, I'm talking to myself, or Chase, or maybe just the world around me. I just noticed that while I do not have my own name available, I feel no compulsion whatsoever to hide the names of my relatives/friends. Odd. Still. I'll leave it. Back to the point, then. I'm tired of this. Of my life, of my dwellings, of my job, of my non-existent romantic relationship, of being old already and not quite ready for it. I will be twenty-three in a little over a month. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I haven't even realised that I'm twenty-one yet!
I am tired of people who do drugs and think that you're the one who is intolerant. Why are you intolerant of my need to be free of your glazed eyes, horrid smell, and depleted brain activity? I want to ask them. I am tired of people who think they know what is best for you when actually all they really know is what's best for them and how you can help them accomplish it. I am tired of bad tippers. I am tired of persons telling me with increasing frequency that I am either too nice or a complete bitch (note: persons mentioned never say both, it is either/or). I am tired of people who do not spend eighteen hours a day with two people who cannot talk, especially the people who do not do this and then commence telling me how tired they are. I want to poke my finger in the eye of all of these people.
Mostly, I am tired of my own bitching and complaining, but still have not found anything else to do. I have looked at degrees and colleges and career diplomas and Pell Grants. I have looked at jobs to apply for and places to move to. I want out. I want someone to rescue me. I know that I could, and very well should, be doing this on my own, digging myself out of this black pit of despair, as I like to call it, this utter slothiness, if that is in fact a word. But I don't, don't, do not want to. I want someone to do it for me! I'll admit that freely! I want to have a shining white knight ride up on a steed, or even a bicycle, we can't be too picky these days, and say "Hello. I would like to take care of all your problems for you, and please, won't you spend the rest of your life reading on the couch while eating glorious foodstuffs that will never make you gain an ounce while I watch you adoringly? Oh, and I'll pay for everything." Yes, it's a damn fantasy, but so what, it's mine, and if I want to be selfish here, where no one can see me, where only the virtual world is looking, and I don't even think many are, then who cares! It's my mind, and I will spill forth onto this screen, as it were, whatever I feel at that particular moment.
I don't know why I'm being defensive, perhaps it's the way my modem is blinking at me. Subordinately.

Back Again

2005-12-01T19:36:00.000-08:00

Sigh. Things never stay the same. No, I'm not only just realising this. I'm just depressed about it. And not really for any good reasons. Everyone I know, it seems, is in various stages of healthy relationships. Except me. Last night I dreamt of a guy I used to date, and I woke up feeling just miserable. I missed the feeling of being liked. Liked as in, "I am totally okay with the idea of spending the entire day being amazed by you." I don't think it was ever quite that dramatic, or else I missed it, but I digress from my original point, which is...I miss being adored, or even appreciated for my feminine qualities, brain, and sense of humour. I miss being missed. I miss having someone that I can truly call "significant" who feels the same way about me. And that guy, the one I dated, however briefly? He's seeing someone else. Not that I'm displeased. In fact, I'm glad for him. He was truly one of the great guys. Almost perfect for me in every way. But I always seem to get in my own way there, don't I?

Three's a Crowd

2005-08-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

So...I finally went on a date. Two, actually. And he's nice. He's funny. He really likes me, which is enough to balm my bruised and battered ego.
And then...yesterday, after I had had a date with Brian the night before, Chase decides to tell me that he misses me and loves me and wants me back.
WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?!? Where does this come from? Is it just some natural male instinct, you know, "Hey, that territory's already marked?" He said all the right things and cried, and I can't dispute the fact that yes, I do, I do still love him. But what if I'm not supposed to? What if the only reason we're connected is the kids, and that's going to be the only real connexion we ever have?
I don't know. Unfairly, I was pretty cranky with Brian last night. Like it's his fault that I'm confused, which it's not. He has nothing malicious to do with it, he's basically an innocent bystander. But he was drunk, and I don't deal with drunk people that well anyhow, and then his friend called me his girlfriend, and of course, I snapped back with "I'm NOT your girlfriend!", which, I think, may have hurt his feelings. He mentioned it later in the conversation..."You're not my girlfriend - apparently ADAMANTLY not." I felt bad, but not bad enough to apologise, apparently. Since I didn't. I just bullshitted my way through it by saying that I don't use that term lightly, along with a host of others. I don't know. I hung up feeling like shit, and I'm pretty sure he did too. But I don't want to call and apologise, and make him think that I know what's going on in my head, because I don't. I really like Brian. I do. I just think to myself, and I'm like "Pros...cons...the kids...what would be best for them, and is it the same as what's best for me?" Even if it isn't, they come first, right?
I'm going to stop for now, and try to figure more of it out later.

Ballroom Blitz

2005-07-22T13:22:00.000-07:00

Sigh...almost the end of a very long week. I went for my yearly checkup with Dr. Walsh today, which as it turned out wasn't today but next Friday, and I sat there for half an hour before they told me that...but I was just sitting in her office and I almost started crying. Just thinking about all the times I had been there while pregnant with the twins, and how happy Chase and I were when we found out it was a girl and boy, and everything else of that nature. I just want to be totally happy again, I don't really care how. Jordan was talking about moving to Tennessee or Georgia with Ruthie, and I asked if I could go. I don't know if I could leave my parents, or my friends, and I'm sure Chase would have a fit if I tried to take the twins nine hours away on a permanent basis, but the idea of starting over just appeals to me. I still want the happiness I expected up til last year. I want to get married and look absolutely beautiful and breathtaking. I want to have the same last name as my kids! I want to crawl into bed at night and have someone there to put their arm around me. I want, I want, I want. I'm so self-involved right now.

One Is The Loneliest Number

2005-07-17T17:05:00.000-07:00

I can't wait to lose this taste in my mouth
All the bitterness just pouring out
Can't describe it, or lose it, or hide it
Just screaming my way out of town
I feel so low, like I'm starting back over again
I don't know why time goes much slower than it did back then
Can't retrieve it, or keep it, or leave it
Just want to be way out of town

Can't be lonelier than this
I can still feel your goodbye kiss
I've been trying to find
Justifiable reasons
Giving you time
Since the change of the seasons
A whole life that I've missed
Can't be lonelier than this

Proposals

2005-07-14T20:52:00.000-07:00

Internet dating is something I will never be able to handle. Seriously. This guy posted on okcupid.com wanting to know if anyone wanted a mail-order husband??? I replied to his post and asked him if it was a weird stunt or just a random genius idea. I don't think he was very sure himself. But he wanted to know if I would order him. Kind of funny.
Who am I kidding, dating is something I can't handle, period. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I just mouth off when people flirt with me, so they're like, mahaha, you're funny and kind of cool, but I'm not sure you're actually female, so I'm going to leave now. Which is okay, because more than that would require actual emotional involvement on my part, and I really don't have any left for anyone except the twins.
Speaking of them, they're tired and cranky today. They took two! naps apiece, Conner actually put himself to sleep the second time. Just rolled over onto his belly, stuck his finger in his eye for a minute, and was out. I had to wake Dia up to eat dinner, she was less than pleased with me. But then she ate, really well, with her fork (YES! So smart!) and everything. She can count to ten with you if you go slowly, and she knows five and nine, ten all by herself.
Do I sound overly proud? I am. Extremely so. They're just getting so smart so fast. I don't quite know what to do with them.
The echo of every parent from the beginning of time is ringing in my ears.

Laughter In The Rain

2005-07-13T19:30:00.000-07:00

Just when I think things have fallen down farther than they could ever go again, I am surprised at the rate they go upwards again. Today has been (after noon or so) a relatively great day. I have the kids, they've been pretty good, not perfect but mostly so, they've played and had dinner and we went outside and ate berries and came back in for the second bath of the day, and now (eek) at 7:30 p.m. Conner is sleeping and Lydia is monstering around as usual, torturing baby cousins and trying to ruin my fine typing. And I tell her this, that she is hampering Mommy's progress and impairing the message I am trying to send to the world. She sticks her bottom lip under her teeth and grins at me delightedly. This is the life people dream of living.

Robotics

2005-07-13T12:25:00.000-07:00

I'm so mad right now. I can't understand how someone can be so cold, so unfeeling. Even if he hates me, he could at least acknowledge the fact that I am the mother of his children and that I spent three years with him, during one of which we got engaged. I don't know what else to do. I broke up with him thinking that it would be a breather, that everything would be fine eventually, that all would be well soon enough. It's worse than ever. But he doesn't see his part in anything, it's always my fault, my problem, because he has no problems. He is perfectly fine. And I am left half-alive, drowning slowly.

And Again

2005-07-12T13:07:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to stop writing. The floodgates have opened. I was sitting on the porch, reading a magazine about parenting, and I read this great passage that I had to put down here for posterity.
Lydia came home from the hospital at 4 lbs. 4 oz. She was tiny in every sense of the word. Smallest thing I'd ever seen in real life. We put pop cans in her bili-bassinette and took pictures to compare. She didn't stay small for long though. She is now 14 months and weighs a grand total of 25 lbs. 4 oz. Not exactly itty-bitty. People tell me she's chubby all the time, and I want to smack them. She's not chubby, she's beautiful and smart and healthy. The same thing happens to this woman in the article, and this is what she says about it:

"Once, in the changing room after class, a woman mentioned Amelia's round belly. I watched as Amelia listened to the woman with rapt attention and then, ever so slowly, rubbed her hand over her stomach. I crouched down beside her and said, 'Oh yes, her belly is perfect.' I realized I wanted all three of us to hear it......
.....Ultimately I realized.....The process of making them feel self-conscious about their bodies isn't the result of one big blow, but a thousand small cuts."
- Susan Swimmer, LHJ Aug 2005

That makes so much sense to me. Lately I am searching for thoughts that make sense, for things people say or do that are tangible, that you can touch and feel, that are certain and unchanging. And when I find one, it strikes with such sharp poignancy that I want to cry for the joy of knowing: Someone understands.

The Morning After

2005-07-12T13:01:00.000-07:00

I thought I would wake up this morning and be aghast at the mindless spew of despair I posted last night. But I'm not. I feel exactly the same.
I just want to know how it all stops and starts, and how to control the two, because I think a lot of people have a handle on this, and I definitely don't. I can't quite grasp the moment when I started to grow up or if I have even started. Having my children would have seemed to be said moment, but I know you don't have to be any sort of adult to give birth. Once you get home with the baby (duplicates in my case) it kind of sinks in. 'Dear God, what do I do with them?' And he either answers you or...not.
I'm glad this is just another anonymous place, because while I'm writing all of this I'm thinking to myself that's it's all insane. But nobody cares if you're insane if they don't know who you are.
I just need to blather on, because I don't have a counselor and friends, God love them, even they get sick of you now and then. The best ones are the ones who steadfastly refuse to admit it. I have been a black hole for the past few weeks, regurgitating all this nonsense about unrequited and misguided love, and depression, and utter misery, and they just say, that's okay, even if they've been letting the phone sit on the table while I talked for an hour. The best friends in the world.
Perhaps that's enough for now, I sound like an idiot and feel it too.

The First Outpouring

2005-07-11T14:15:00.000-07:00

So. I'm not quite sure what to write in here, except maybe just what I'm feeling, or what I'm thinking, and who knows where to start with that.

I have twins. Lydia and Conner. They were born 14 months ago, on May 3rd. They're funny and sweet and smart and kind. They simultaneously make me laugh harder than I ever have and want to cry more than I ever can. They are my serendipity, my 'fortunate accident'.

Loving them. That's the part that has turned out to be easy, not that I thought it would be hard. But it's the only easy part. Being a single mother of two was not in my master plan. I feel like a statistic. For the moment at least, we're not on assistance, but we will be, because they don't have insurance right now. Not that I'm knocking the mothers who are on assistance, or the fathers for that matter. I pay for it, we all pay for it. It's ours to take advantage of. It's the knowing looks of the cashiers who actually know nothing, and the old men who come up behind you in the grocery store to ask if you're married, and then tell you that you're supposed to be married before having children. Like I didn't want to be. When is it okay to turn around and scream at those people, "I WOULD HAVE LOVED THAT, BUT IT DIDN'T HAPPEN THAT WAY, AND YOU KNOW LESS THAN YOU THINK, SO SHUT UP!!!!"

That's what I'd say if I wasn't racked with guilt. That I probably should have paid better attention to birth control, and worked harder at the relationship between their father and I. That if I would have waited five or ten years, I could have provided for them in so many ways, and been more ready to take on the everyday battle for time, and attention, naps, mealtimes, and tears. I could make every moment laughter and hugs and kisses and absolute adoration. Or not, I don't know. Perhaps I'm good enough for them, and I wouldn't trade a second of having them for a few years from now. I wouldn't change their father, he loves them and he's around, he just doesn't love me, and that's my issue.

I just needed to say these things, to scream out to something or someone, and since I could always write it better than I could actually vocalize it, I'm writing it. There's something safe and reassuring in a journal like this, although anyone can read it, you're still protected while you write it, while the feeling is strongest. Because you want to say all these things to everyone anyway, but you can't, because the immediate reaction is more than you can handle. Because you're afraid of what you look like in the daytime, or your brain, rather.

There's no holding back when it's just an empty page and your keyboard. I can say that I am more depressed now than I can ever remember being, even when I was in high school and had several ugly haircuts. I want to break the smiles off of peoples' faces and tear them into a million tiny pieces. I want to have magical powers so that I can turn indifference into agony. I want to have everything the way I want it. And that's selfish, and it's not politically correct, and I don't give a damn. The shiningest things in my life are my children, and everything else dulls in comparison.

I don't really know where this is all coming from, and I may look back tomorrow at this entry and think, OH MY GOD, I wrote that? For everyone to see? But isn't this kind of the point of these things, airing your laundry and relative anonymity, except for the people you give the address to, and telling the world that you couldn't care less if it fell down tomorrow were it not for the two small people holding you and all of it up?