Friends

There is nothing like a friend. Seriously, I've never been a big FRIEND person just because I tend towards solitary activities like reading, writing, etc. Plus I was so darn insecure for so many years that I just didn't make friends very easily.

But boy, do I appreciate you guys. Some of my friends read this blog and some don't. Some of you who read my blog are friends and some aren't.

I went through a super-rough time on Wednesday night and I can't tell you how awesome it was to be able to call someone, tell him I was stressed out and have an instant comedian on my hands. It was so great to know that I had people to be there, even if they weren't able to be there physically. And yes, it would be nice to have a REAL hug from someone but sometimes that just isn't possible. I'm thankful for what I've got.

I guess there are some of you reading who don't have friends to call in case of emergency. So let me into your lives, people! I'll be there, even if I'm not THERE!

And now some quotes from the great CS Lewis:

Eros will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities.

Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.

At last I am...employed!

After six weeks of job-hunting, I finally got JUST the right job. I hope. Anyway, it's a restaurant job and even though the pay's not great, it's certainly more than I'm making by job-hunting.

By the way, my boots totally got me this job. My interviewer and I bonded over shoes. I think I like shoes even more now.

I feel funny

OK, I've been thinking a lot about the good and attractive parts of me. Not that I'll be dating anyone anytime soon...I mean, these four kids are SUCH a draw, aren't they? Plus I'm not divorced yet. And there's the whole Jesus Freak thing I've got going. And the general weirdness of me (including the fact that everyone I find interesting lives very far away). Yeah, I have a feeling I may never, EVER go out on a proper date in my life. You know: dinner, show, kiss at the door. Haven't done it yet and I'm 33.

Anyway. I know I'm not the best-looking person in the world. Though my pants sizes (and pants!) are dropping like flies, I'm still in possession of more than a few spare pounds. At my estimate, I probably have 60 more to go. Maybe 55 at this point.

Besides the weight, I've got hair that just frizzes like crazy, insane red skin tone that always looks like I've been drinking or working out or something, and somehow have acne AND grey hair. If I didn't wax regularly, I'd have a moustache, a beard and bushy eyebrows. THANK GOD for professional waxing!

But I have one thing going for me that I think helps a lot: I am witty. I am funny. I make people feel good about themselves and I make them laugh. I also insist on doing atypical things like spinning around in the middle of public places whilst singing "The hilllllls are aliiiiiive with the sound of music" instead of, y'know, walking sedately along holding hands or something. I keep people on their toes! Which could well be why I've never been on a proper date. Or ever received a romantic letter. Or, really, a compliment.

Wait, I take that back. A guy I dated when I was 19 told me that I inspired him to stop sitting around on his butt and do more with his life. That's certainly a compliment, right?

Except I think he's still working in the same bowling alley since 1992. Apparently I'm not THAT inspirational. *sighs*

(edited to add)
I've realized that the bowling guy came directly before the abusive husband, and directly AFTER the guy who came out as gay right after we dated. Who, incidentally, was not long after the guy who killed himself. Do stunningly pretty girls have such issues?

There's a sucker born every minute

...and apparently all of them work for my insurance company.

After much effort and attempt on my part at keeping my exact address a private matter, my insurance company (WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE) decided to add me to my husband's auto insurance policy because his lawyer told them they had to. And instead of asking HIM for my address, they simply looked me up in their system, got my new address from my own insurance policy, and added me to his account.

And sent him a letter with my new contact info on it.

Nice, eh?

The world may end now

After 33 years, I can officially declare myself a woman.

It has nothing to do with sex, childbirth or profound mental/emotional revelations. No, it goes further into the mysteries of the cosmos than any of those things. Today...I wanted a pair of shoes.

Let me just say that I am a barefoot kinda girl. I hate shoes. Loathe them. Given the choice between wearing heels and a root canal, I'd pick the maniac dentist everytime. Until now.

Yep, those boots right there. Saw them in Target when I was looking for sensible pumps to wear to a job interview. I had to have them. I tried to avoid them. I walked away and browsed the obnoxious pointy-toed pumps. But they called to me across the shoe department, "Jooooooo! Come put us on. We'll make your calves look sexy instead of fat!"

So I went to try them on, figuring they wouldn't zip over my fat and swollen legs and I could put this whole ridiculous shoe business behind me.

Surprise, surprise. They fit. And they look PHENOMENAL. Of course, I had to go buy a skirt to go with them. And a sweater to go with that. Shame, that.

King of the dunghill

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything I've been talking about. Which, I guess, is what blogging's all about.

Did you know that there's not just a "Best of Yanni" but a "Very Best of Yanni"?

Yeah. Kinda scary.

My best analogy is that the Very Best of Yanni is kinda like that dead bird your dog brings you. He's terribly proud of it. You wish he wasn't.

What do I miss?

Someone recently asked me what was hardest about no longer being married.

My answer was that I no longer have someone to open jars.

Yeah, that's about it.

saying what you mean

Why don't people ever come straight out and say exactly what they mean/feel/think?

I'm just as guilty.

To Forgive

There's so much to say about forgiveness that I scarcely know where to begin. I'll probably blog more about it tomorrow but here's some random thoughts:

I've been reading a lot of Steve Taylor/Chagall Guevara's lyrics and ran across this song that I vaguely remember. Part of it says...

Follow his lead
Let the madness recede
When we shatter the cycle of pain
Oh, we will live
To forgive

I love that part about shattering the cycle of pain. If we hold onto our anger, to our bitterness, we are allowing the person who wronged us to continue controlling our lives. It is not THEM who is punished - it is US.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a church and found "If" by Amy Carmichael tucked into my bulletin. Amy was a Christian missionary in India who rescued temple prostitutes (children). She certainly saw a lot of things that we would find hard to forgive. This particular part caught my eye:

If I say, "Yes, I forgive, but I cannot forget," as though the God, who twice a day washes all the sands on all the shores of all the world, could not wash such memories from my mind, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

Isn't that beautiful?

what an awful, awful day

Today has been a wretched day.

I don't even have the luxury of contemplating suicide, as I have four people who depend solely on me for their lives. I won't leave them. So don't worry.

And I'd like to say that no, this isn't a cry for attention. I just feel like crap. This is where I vent. There.

I am going to go cry a million tears I thought I was done crying.

Putting the Fun in Funeral

So I've had this weird sense of mortality lately. Not that I expect to die, but it wouldn't surprise me. That kind of thing. And I've been thinking a lot about my funeral. So here's my wishes:

First of all, anyone who attends is not allowed to wear black or navy blue unless it's something they'd wear anyway. My favorite colors lately are reds and purples. Wear those!

Secondly, make sure you have a decent potluck afterwards, OK? I loves me some Southern potlucks. I have a pet peeve about them, however, and that's there are never enough deviled eggs. Seriously, why on earth would you bring six deviled eggs to a potluck of 50+ people? So you people gotta bring some deviled eggs, some with paprika and some not. And banana pudding. And greenbean casserole, of course.

Lastly, I'm particular about music. I would like the following songs to be played. I don't care what order you put them in.

Chris Rice's Untitled Hymn
Few songs move me to tears but this is one of them and it does so because of its sheer simplicity. If you have the chance to hear it, please do so. The simple lyrics completely mesh with voice and acoustic guitar.

The Servant Song
(Note: please do NOT listen to the tune on this page. It is badly and slooowly played on an organ. If you have to hear the song...I dunno, find it elsewhere).
This song is somewhat of my anthem. Anyone who knows me personally knows that I will go out of my way to help people. Servants Heart School was actually the name of our homeschool, because I want to teach my children that helping others is the most Christlike thing we can do on this earth. But I give bonus points to anyone at my funeral who secretly sings "When you laugh, I'll laugh AT you" instead of "WITH you" in verse 4. Because that's what I do.

All My Tears by Emmylou Harris
I have NO idea what Emmylou's recording sounds like since I learned this in a very bluesy style from a friend at my old church. It is hands-down my favorite song to sing and I adore the lyrics. My sister and I sang it at our aunt's funeral, just two voices blending together with no accompaniment. That's how I want it. Not Emmylou's style but the one I know.

Lastly...and this one DOES have to be last:
Breakfast by the Newsboys
I figure about this time y'all will need a laugh. You can imagine me eating my Peanut Butter Crunch in Heaven as you leave.

bravery

When I set out at the beginning of this summer, there were SO MANY things I didn't ever want to do. I even had panic attacks at the thought of some of them, and swore up and down I wouldn't survive if I had to go through them. Funny how years of being told you're worthless will convince you that you can't do anything worthwhile.

Without further fanfare, I want you to know that I have:

-managed to talk to not one, not two but THREE Child Protective Services people (not counting the fourth and fifth ones on the phone). I was terrified of them. I was terrified they would take my children away. I had no reason to fear that, but I was utterly convinced.

-been able to talk to a magistrate about the abuse and get a restraining order against my husband, though it was only temporary.

-entered a courtroom where my angry husband was present, when his actions even disturbed the court guards. They actually had me hidden for a little while because he was being suspicious. And I was escorted out and walked to my car, under their watchful eyes.

-gone into another courtroom and hold a mostly-civil conversation with my husband about, of all things, Morrissey. Also managed not to deck him when he suggested we go back to the house for sex since we ARE still technically married.

-survived countless pieces of my heart being torn out with each new tale of abuse. Some of this is still going on and though I always feel like I can't take anymore, I always can.

-loved my children more than I thought I ever could. I am so proud of them!

-lived through and actually enjoyed the hellish weekend before our big separation hearing by meeting up with long-time online friends. Those of you at T-con probably didn't know my entire future was hanging in the balance the day afterwards, and you probably thought I had food poisoning or a virus like that other person. Actually I was just really really panicked! You also have to know that I don't even CALL people, even my sister, because I am so so shy about it. So going to another state to meet y'all, walking into a hotel and approaching complete strangers to ask if they were with the con...that was nothing short of a miracle! And I love you all. mwah!

(I'm not kidding about how shy I am. I really don't even call Domino's if I can avoid it, and they could care less about me. And yes, I don't call my sister because one time she mistook me for her best friend and talked to be for about 10 minutes before realizing it was me, and then there was this huge awkwardness and I felt horrible. I have issues, I tell you.)

-driven my daughter to a hospital an hour away and left her there for 10 days, because she needed and wanted help. I never thought I could do that, but it has been worth every second because SHE is so proud of herself!

-left my children in the care of other people. Besides my parents' care, they have gone to Vacation Bible Schools, churches and now public school. I used to worry about them constantly. I still worry, but I want them to be free to be who they are.

-faced life as a single mom and realized it's not as bleak as I thought. I have Jesus. I have friends around the world, some of whom pray for me regularly. This is great encouragement to me.

Lastly, I have been able to forgive. That's a biggie and deserves its own post.

Go to the Back of the Class!

When I was a kid, we had a game called Go to the Head of the Class and it was maybe my favorite game we owned other than Life (I liked the little peg people in that one). You answered questions and got to advance based on intelligence. I usually did pretty well.

Today I would lose.

Here's a tip: Don't get mad at someone for ignoring your IM's when your computer logs itself out of Aim everytime the stupid screen saver comes on and then automatically reconnects you when you become active again. Might want to check that, dumbbutt. Go back three spaces.

More dummy points for emailing someone when half asleep. Go back one space.

Bonus points for playing off the email reply as something you were expecting anyway, even though you don't remember sending the first one. Go forward one space.

Also, this gem from the book of Jeremiah:

" The heart is deceitful above all things,
And desperately wicked;
Who can know it? "

I know per therapists that emotions are our guidebooks to life, but I think mine take after the Thresh rangers.

Life is like a box of chocolates (outdated, for 99 cents)

I have a very ungirly confession to make: I hate shopping.

Yep, I said it. I hate to shop.

That said, I have been shopping lately as I look for things for our new place. And I started thinking about how people's existences are a lot like shopping.

First and foremost, you've got the people with Mall lives. They have it all: the perfect hair, the perfect children, the perfect house, the perfect vacation. You name it, they've got it. They have a little bit of everything tasteful, just like the mall and all the un-tasteful stuff is hidden away in the secret passageways of their hearts, and so few are allowed in. Their pace of life is usually unhurried but never slow. But just like the mall, all of this comes at a high price. Usually no one has any time to spend with one another because they're too busy making sure everything is just right.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, you've got your Wal-Mart people. Loud, obnoxious and keeping their toilet habits next to their dining room tables (much like Wal-Mart), these folks live busy lives too. The difference is that they feel like they have to have a little bit of everything, but everything is cheaper. So they do everything in excess but it means so little.

My life is neither. My life, if you have to know, is somewhere between a thrift store and a "scratch and dent" (closeout) store. There are some real wonderful treasures in it, but you have to dig through the piles of crap to find them. Pass the 50 year old broken sewing machine and the industrial sized tubs of mayo, there's a beautiful work of art and a $10 box of organic cookies for $1.25.

Ideally, I'd like to have a Target life. It's about as pretty and nice as the mall but doesn't take as much work. It's almost as easy as the Wal-Mart life but there's just a slightly better quality to it. And sometimes you'll find a really great deal at Target.

But back to thrift stores, I want to know who buys framed photos of some lady and her baby circa 1980? Or used greeting cards? I mean, I can understand maybe buying a broken cellphone because you've got the parts to fix it or it's got the parts you need.

And scratch and dents...Today I could've bought a Boston Red Sox shirt for $3, a bottle of outdated salad dressing or a dented box of condoms. Condoms in a damaged-goods store? Yes, you're right. Good thing there's pregnancy tests next to them. Damaged pregnancy tests.

Huh

I thought my heart was long gone, so imagine my surprise when I found it on my sleeve.

It's weird watching your entire life be packed up into four rubbermaid bins and a duffel bag and driven off in the back of a pickup.

That's all we have to offer this world.

Or is it all the world has to offer us?

Heavy stuff today.

There have always been wounds within me. Even as a child, there was a standoffishness, an inability to let people really KNOW me. Now that I'm older, I wonder if that was really my problem or everyone else's. I always thought I was the issue but I'm starting to think everyone else is too self-absorbed.

Now there are deep, deep scars from years and years of abuse. I bear no physical reminders but I carry a sadness that is mine alone to bear. There is an emptiness in me, a void that I'm not sure can even be reached, let alone filled.

People try to tell me that I'll meet a man who will truly love and appreciate me. I just want someone who understands me. I've lived without love and appreciation for a decade. Just give me someone who understands.

...though I will always hope to be loved.

Someone shut my brain up.

I overthink everything. I want to understand everything but then I'm not happy when I do. It's messed up. I'm messed up. Here I go again. I'm now thinking about how messed up I am and why I overthink everything and now I think my brain's going to explode.

If you should ever find yourself needing something from the government, I can offer the following tips:

-Always show up on time for your appointment. You will have to wait three hours regardless, but at least you won't wait three hours only to be told, "You were late. You'll have to reschedule your appointment."

-Be polite. Everyone else will be rude to you and act like you owe them something. However, yelling at government employees is exactly what they want and they will heave you out of the office if you do it. Be prepared for lots of opposition, because they will attempt to provoke you.

-Have all of your paperwork ready. You will have 20 more pages to fill out, in triplicate. Some of this can be eliminated by simply handing your things over and telling the person you can't read or write.

-Feign stupidity. Stupid people get pity. Smart people get attitude. So smart people should be smart enough to play stupid.

Into the murky green
Into the middle
Darkness below which tantalizes and beckons,
Waving arms as if to say
Come play

Into the hazy hue
Into the center
Sunshine above which calls to me
Rays of light which fall
over all

But I find my solace
Where no one can see me
and no one can reach me
and nothing exists except me
here in the middle
of the lake.