The belt tightening is starting to infring on my pregnant belly.

Honestly, I feel lucky though, because we are not on the verge of losing our house, we have enough food, and can still afford gas for two cars. But those extras are gone, less eating out (sorry Figlet), less clothes (for those of us not growing four inches per year), and no vacation on the horizon.

This will sound stupid, because it's the opposite for many people, but our Stupid Spending of the last two years? That turned out to be out insulation from this whole economic crisis we've been thrown into.

Our budget is basically this:
Gross Income - Retirement, Taxes and Insurance = Net Income
Then,
Net Income - Monthly Bills - Food, Gas and Essentials = Disposable Income
Therefore,
Dispoable Income = What Gets Paid on the Credit Cards

Get it?

We've been dropping hundreds of dollars per month on our credit card bills to try to get them paid off sometime in the next year or so, since we were contemplating upgrading to a bigger house. But lately, we've been spending more on the "Food, Gas and Essentials" which means less on the credit cards, but really, we're still paying much more than the minimums each month.

So in a stupid, roundabout, and not entirely logical way, we haven't been affected so much by all this turmoil, except that it's going to take longer than anticipated to get out of debt. But really, doesn't it always?

This is my way of saying that I am very thankful that we made mostly sound financial decisions for the past few years and I feel lucky that we aren't struggling as so many others are right now. Things are tight, but things are always tight with us. A big squeeze has been that P's grandparents aren't working anymore due to crap health issues, so we are sending them money every month so they can buy food, etc. We had been supporting Jojo for the past year and a half, and the girl can eat! So there was another drain, not including what it cost us to get her up here, and our latest trip to Paraguay. Childcare, student loans, savings for maternity leave... it all adds up very quickly, but we have a plan, and that's all I can ask for.

I'm just seeing more and more self-employed people applying for benefits because they are filing bankruptcy, more and more homeowners who are losing their homes, young parents who can't affors insurance for their kids, older folks who needs medications and treatments, but can't afford thier own insurance premiums and copays.... it goes on and on. I try to stay positive, Obama will be able to turn things around for those who really need the help right now.

And that's all for this morning's rant. Thanks for tuning in!

I'll Take What I Can Get

After almost 8 years, I've given up the hope of changing him. I'm realizing that regardless of what I do, he's not going to be ready for it until he sees how he is hurting himself and the people who love him.

Maybe I am setting up a pattern by allowing him the easy way out. I don't insist that he apologize to me when he messes up, because it's fruitless. I allow him to apologize in his own way, by physically doing things, rather than verbally. As long as we are both aware that he messed up, I'm okay with that, because I know I can't make him remorseful. I could insist that he say he's sorry, and very often he does without prodding, but when those certain things happen, when he is intentionally mean or neglectful, I don't ask for an apology.

Maybe I should.

I know there are some things he will cop up to, some things he may be too ashamed to apologize for, and other things that his pride and his culture don't allow him to apologize for. But I know when he regrets his actions. And he makes an effort to make it up to me. I see the same thing in my brother, how he won't say he's sorry, but he'll bring over dinner. Am I wrong for letting them get away with that?

Wouldn't it be wrong for them to insist that I apologize in a way that is acceptable to them, as men, rather than what makes me, as a woman, truly show that I am sorry? Is there a difference between the two, other than interpretation of the actions? I'll take what I can get, and I feel satisfied for the moment that he has apologized, in his own way, which happens to be much more useful to me than a verbal plea for forgiveness. It would be nice to hear it more often, but it would also be insincere, because that's just not how he expresses himself.

I'm taking the good with the bad. All I can control are my own actions and reactions.

Delayed

I can't bring myself to write a beautiful letter to my sweet angel this month, when things are crumbling.

I thought we were doing better. He's hiding something, some fear, or hurt, or anger, and I can't do anything about it because I don't know what it is. Maybe his way of dealing is to take care of my physical needs, and neglect my soul, but it's driving us apart and right now, I don't have the energy to change the dynamic.

I'm pretty sure it will be okay. I'm not positive, but I can't sacrifice myself, my mental health, my pregnancy or my daughter's happiness to heal him. I can't do all those things a wife "should" do, hoping it will make him happy, because beneath it all, there is still something I can't reach. There is something in him that will always make him miserable, and I'm not the one to fix it. I can't.

He can't be healed until he is ready to ask for help. He is spiraling downward, and my fear of him hitting rock bottom comes out in flashes of anger and spite. I don't hate him, I hate his inaction, his self-medicating, and his insistence on being close to me in a way that I can't reciprocate when I am hurting too. I'm scared what this means for us in the long run. It was bad a few years ago, and it's getting steadily worse. We have our reprieves, many weeks and months have been great, but I can't figure out the trigger that causes it all to come rushing back.

He agrees with my brother that I am weak for believing in God and studying psychology. They all think they are the masters of their own universes, but they are all fucked up in the head and can't see past their own BS. At least I am working on my issues, and I feel like I'm improving, but it's hard to maintain those changes under the stress of dealing with someone steeped in denial. I've found myself reacting to him lately, and I hate it. I hate letting him get to me, letting him hurt me, then punishing him for it. I'm not in a great state of mind now, and I don't want to subject my unborn child to these rushes of hormones and anger and hurt.

I don't want to take a step back and watch him drown himself. But I can't be so close and feeling so helpless and manipulated. Both sides of the fence have shriveled up crab grass, so I'm trying to balance on it, making my way South, or maybe North, somewhere else, anywhere else, until things get better. I'm not depressed, just stuck and scared, and waiting for the last stone to crumble so we can pick up the pieces and rebuild a life together.

My 25th Year

I’m a shy person. Extremely socially-phobic. May seem like BS for people who know me, but I get serious anxiety attacks when I am around a lot of people that I don’t know. I’m fine in groups I’m comfortable with, but strangers? No thank you. Mostly.

For most of my life, I feel like I’ve been chosen. Not as in The Golden Child special, but I’ve taken the path of least resistance and allowed my friends, schools, and style to be handed to me, because it was more comfortable than standing up for what I really wanted.

The one college that I really wanted to go to, UCLA, I didn’t get accepted. I got into other schools, Berkeley, Davis, Sonoma State and Spelman, so rather than make UCLA work in the future, I took the next best route and went to the one which offered the highest scholarship. Because really, how could I make UCLA work? I didn’t know anyone in LA. I didn’t have any friends going to UCLA. It’s not like I could move down to LA by myself and go to a community college, and try to transfer in two years, no way. Who did I think I was?

But really, Spelman wasn’t much more comfortable, but it was easier. I had a friend in Atlanta, and I wouldn’t’ have to pay much to go. And I didn’t want to stay in Northern California. High school wasn’t the best years of my life, and there were a lot of people and events that I was happy to leave far behind. So, the path of least resistance.

The group I fell in with there started with me and one other girl. We met smoking behind the dorms after lunch one day, and as the only smokers we saw in campus, it made sense that we would be friends. I had made other friends too, and slowly we formed this group, and it’s weird because I was the one who brought the group together, and the one who was ultimately pushed out. But maybe I isolated myself, by not dating boys on campus, by getting married toward the end of the year, and by loudly announcing that I hated Spelman and was leaving as soon as I could.

It wasn’t my scene. It was fun at first, the clubs and frat parties six nights per week, but I was always uncomfortable. Too many new people, and as my friends found boyfriends, and I was constantly rejecting advances because I had a fiance at home, I got pushed into a new group, the single people, the ones who couldn’t find a date, and the few guys who refused to date anyone but me.

But that’s just an example. For some reason this week, I’ve been thinking a lot more about my choices in life. Some things I felt forced into. Some I regret with every ounce of my being, though I’ve forgiven the people who pressured me, and myself for not fighting for what I knew was right. Some other things, I’m grateful for, because they ended up being positively life-altering. Maybe turning 25 means a new leaf, and I want to start making my own choices, not just doing what is easiest or most comfortable. I don’t want to take the path of least resistance anymore, and waste my life doing what other people want me to do.

But damn, it’s hard to change. It’s hard to make different choices when people expect you to act a certain way. It’s frustrating to have people constantly question you, inquiring what changed. It’s hard to step out of the comfortable little life you’ve made, and see if there is something new to discover. And it’s even harder when you’re obligated to your life. I love my husband, my kid(s), my house, but they are all obstacles to what I’m trying to do. I can’t go out to a bar and meet new people. I can’t go back to the old friends, the ones from before who still expect to see the old Aletta when I walk through the door. I can’t make any radical change and see where it leads me, because I love what I have, I’m just looking for the ‘more’ that I know is out there. And old habits are hard to break, even when you are dying to get out from under them.

But, we’ll see. I think this will be a good year. No more coasting, it’s time for me to get my ass back in the saddle, and see what I can do with myself.

Failure as a Mother

She won't eat.

We get her up for breakfast, and she'll grub on some oatmeal. Later on for a snack, she has no problem chewing down on some cheese and crackers. For lunch? Maybe some pasta or rice and chicken, carrots or corn, a piece of bread. Throughout the day, fruit, crackers, maybe some milk, and water.

It seems okay to me, but she's not growing. She won't eat dinner. She'll sit in her highchair and take a few bites, then throw it to the dogs. I know she's hungry, but it seems like she's just not interested in eating. She'll eat some things without fail: corn, blueberries, bagels, cheese... but everything else is hit-and-miss.

Tonight I cooked her some chicken, and while I was doing that, she had her corn. Then I gave her some potato, and she would only eat a tiny bit. Threw her chicken without a taste, and after I tricked her into tasting the sweet potatoes, she ate a few tablespoons. I knew she wanted to eat, she told me, but she refused to, screaming and thrashing around until I had to let her out of her seat before she hurt herself.

I feel like there is something fundamentally wrong with the fact that I can't feed my own child. She's 31" tall and 4oz short of 20lbs. She's gained a pound in 6 months. And yes, she's been sick, but I'm scared. I'm terrified of the thought that maybe she is failing to gain weight because of something I'm doing wrong. Or not doing at all. And I want to quit my job so I can stay home with her and see exactly how much she's eating, and make sure I prepare her food exactly how it should be... but it was the same thing in Paraguay.

She just won't eat.

And I refuse to preordain an eating disorder, where she's purposely not eating to assert control over her life. I can't do that, but I don't know what else to do. I'm stuck. I don't think anyone understands. Who has this problem? People complain about sleep issues and potty training, but I have rarely heard of someone whose kid just refuses to eat. Oatmeal for dinner 2 nights in a row, because that is all she'll let me feed her. And I'm scared to do the "if she's hungry, she'll eat" thing, because she IS hungry, and she's still NOT eating!

I know I've been a bit stressed. The trip was stressful, P and I have not exactly been fighting, but there's been some tension, the holidays, everything is maybe contributing, and I keep thinking it will get better ... I always think everything has to eventually get better ... but what if that isn't the case this time? What if at her next appointment the Doc says she's got FTT, and I'm a failure as a mother?

What if this is all somehow my fault?

The American Dream

I have always said I don't want to be rich, I just want to be comfortable. I want to go an entire year without worrying about money: how will we pay our bills? How can we pay down our debt? What the hell are we going to do if P doesn't get a job soon?

I don't want to win millions of dollars in the lottery, but I can't say that I'd complain if I won enough to pay off our debts and fund our retirement accounts. I try not to worry about the future too much, I have enough to stress off right now, but this job puts it in perspective. If I don't start saving now, I might be on the other side of the desk in 40 years.

I'm frustrated that it feels like life is one hurdle after another. I don't want to be catching up for the rest of my life. I do dream of a bigger house with a yard, but mostly so that I can get my mind off that fact that we can barely pay our mortgage right now.

I know part of the problem is that we're trying to do too much. We're trying to help friends and family financially, and there is simply not enough to go around right now. We've cut out most of the extras, no new clothes, no eating out, no movies, no clubs, no presents, and it still just isn't enough. We're trying to be understading of other people who think they are in a similar position, but we see what their money is spent on, and for us, it's not even an option. And it's frustrating to hear people complain about how broke they are when they are sporting new clothes or whatever.

We're trying to be understanding, we really are. But we are thisclose to losing it all. And the only person who can really understand this is P, because he can see what we are missing.

I can see the silver lining though. We are bonding over our anxiety. We sit and talk about what we'd do if we have a million dollars, and it's a pipe-dream, but it takes us out of the misery of the present. We discuss what is really important to us: do we save for retirement, or for Taryn's school fund? And it's kind of scary that we haven't been this deep on certain issues before, but it always happens at the right time.

And I know it will be okay. Eventually, things will turn up again, I just feel like I can't catch a break right now, and it's depressing. Even when I win, I lose. I am grateful that we are all healthy right now, we have enough food, we have a place to live, we're going to visit family and at least for those few weeks we are gone, we won't have to worry about how far we are from the American Dream.

I Think Extradition is Still an Option

A few years ago P and I were having a party at our place. The drinks were flowing, and mid-way through the night (maybe 2am?) one of his cousins came up and gave me a big hug and said "What up my NIGGA?"

I didn't want to be confrontational, so I pulled him aside and let him know that although I didn't personally take offense to his statement, he may not want to go around saying that to just anybody, due to how a more racially-sensitive person may react. He was stunned that he could have potentially offended me, and apologized profusely, tears got in the mix and we ended up outside having a long discussion on why, in the US, it's just not appropriate sometimes.

He's not from here, and I knew his intentions were not to be racist, but instead he used the word in an effort to connect with me and I got that, even though it's not a smart idea since he is Latino. But really, I'm all about intention. If you are ignorant, fine. Lesson learned. But if you are shouting out racial epithets to demonstrate how racist you are, burn in hell.

I don't usually delve into the entertainment realm here on my blog for the simple fact that I really don't usually care enought to comment on it, but this Dog the Bounty Hunter thing is starting to piss me off.

Yes, he shouldn't have said Nigger.

Yes, he's an idiot, because from most reports, the girlfriend is Puerto Rican, not Black.

Yes, I agree that all these tear-soaked aplogies are probably his regret at being caught and his show getting yanked.

Maybe he really does feel a connection with Black folks, and thought he was in the clear to use the word.

BUT, I have a strong objection to the context of his slur, not only because of the intent of his rant was to talk shit about the girlfriend, but also under the pretext of his private conversation being taped.

Look, this guy is no Don Imus, and I know if this were a popular blog I'd catch heat for saying this, but give him a break. He didn't say it on his show. He wasn't on the radio shouting out racially-charged statements or in a comedy club yelling it at people. This was supposedly a private conversation between himself and his son, and I wish all the people who are persecuting him would swear on their mothers' graves that they never used a racial slur in private before.

I'm not saying it's okay. I am saying that I've made prejudiced jokes about all kinds of people, and occasionally used slurs. I called Boogie a Beaner the other day, forwarded a (pretty funny) racist email to Teresa yesterday, and said that a movie was "gay." That doesn't mean that I love Boogie, Teresa, Vic and Ally any less, it just means that sometimes I'm not as sensitive or PC as I should be, especially when it comes to humor. I know they make jokes about Black people, I'm sure they've said Nigger before in their lives, but they are not out in public saying these things, and I don't really get why everyone has to charge up this one slur into monumental proportions.

Slavery ended almost a hundred and fifty years ago. I think it's time that we focus on moving forward, instead of dredging up all the pain in the past. I don't believe in punishing children for what their parents did. And I think it's unfair, considering all the people who have been discriminated against that the only word that ever gets this much press is Nigger. I should say that I personally dont' use it in everyday conversation, but I have. And if I'm only half-Black, does that make me racist too? If Boogie said it, being only a quarter Black, is it still okay? Where do we draw the line?

I also think Dog needs to grow some fucking balls, man up and admit that he was pissed and used the word in anger, rather than this blubbery-pussy shit. It's almost more degrading that he can't just admit to screwing up, and has to explain away a pretty human reaction. He's a bounty hunter for christsakes, not a damn priest.

I've never seen his show, and I'm not interested in watching after this hoopla. But I think there are very few uber-PC people in the world who don't slip once in a while. It happens. Can we get on with life now?

Trying to be Honest

It's painful to admit it, but holidays are really difficult for me. These fews days of the year put it in glaring brilliance that I am not where I want to be in life.

I feel like I should be doing something. I feel bad that I'm at home on Halloween night, that the only places I was invited to were kids parties. I blame it on my husband, because if I wasn't married, maybe I'd have a more active social life. And lately I have been using Taryn as an excuse too, that if I didn't have to worry about a sitter, I'd be more free to cultivate relationships with people.

But the awful truth is if I was alone, no husband, no toddler, no job to "make" me be be responsible, I'd probably still be sitting home alone on Halloween night passing out candy to all the happy people who surround me, and feeling sorry for myself. Because that's just how I am.

I'm good at making friends, and I'm shitty at keeping them. It's something I've dissected on here before, and the fact that it is a recurring issue for me just makes it that much m ore difficult to face.

I woke up this morning hating my life. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to hear about how much fun everyone but me had at their Halloween party, or Trick-or-Treating, or how nice it was to just stay home and watch a movie. I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day long because I'm miserable right now.

So I smile and laugh, ask how your night was and gush over how fun next year will be but the truth is inside I'm cringing. I don't want to hear it today but I force myself to listen so I don't drown in my own self-pity.

***

I don't understand how biologically I can feel fine one day and so horribly depressed the next. I don't know how it is for other people, but my depression consumes by soul, it's not that I'm just sad. My body feels worn out and my emotions are raw. Everything seems too bright, and too dim at the same time. I don't have the energy or will-power to get out of bed and take care of my child, but my the hamster wheel in my brain is spinning out of control.

But the truth is, when I get out of my head for a minute: This is who I am.

Hating Is Easy

It took me a lot of years to get over the fact that some people will never like me. And it doesn't bother me so much except...

1) I always thought I had some miracle Power of Persuasion, and that by just being me, people would agree with what I said, and do what I suggested. Hence, the degree in Psychology. But the older I get, the more clear it has become that people only hear what they want to hear. And even if you have air-tight logic, your words will always be spun to suit their course of action, or be used as a basis for going against sound advice.

This might seem out of left field, but I have been so naive about people, it hurts me to see the time and energy I have wasted on trying to be friends with bad people, or trying to maintain my good name with people who don't give two shits about me. All because I assummed that people would see past their initial perceptions of me and see that I am a genuinely good person, albeit one with a wicked temper, but my intentions are good. And to me that's what really matters.

So then the other thing is that 2) I have this burning desire to be understood. And it's something I've blogged about before. I don't know where it comes from, and I don't know how to let go, but I can't understand when people can't see my point of view (see #1 above) and so I keep pushing, and pushing for comprehension, and it just doesn't seem to be flowing lately. I don't care if we disagree, as long as you can honestly say you understand my view and still hold your own. But I'm noticing that most people can't say that. Most people listen in order to respond, not to understand.

And that irks me. Maybe as a Gemini I am more apt to see different viewpoints at once, be able to hold them, mull them over, and then make a desicion on how I feel about an issue after after absorbing the information presented to me. But I don't see that in many poeple. And maybe that's why I feel more fragile than others, because I don't have hard and true set beliefs about many things. And maybe its this fragility that makes me so upset when people don't like me.

Wait. I don't mean that, because if someone doesn't like me, that's fine. As long as it's for a good reason. The thing I can't stand more than anything else right now is when people dislike me for BS reasons. Like they heard something from someone else which isn't exactly true, but they take it as gospel. Or I remind them of something terrible about themselves, or some evil person they know, and the time is never taken to get to know me as a person. Or we have a disagreement and you're being too pig-headed to listen to my side of the arguement, and now you're pissed off because I want you to understand me, and you have no desire. So now you avoid me.

And in that last situation, I can see that maybe it's annoying to have someone try to explain an opinion that you don't agree with, but isn't that sort of the whole point in a disagreement? To understand what the other person is saying, and then decide whether or not to agree? But maybe that's Idiot's Logic. Maybe in your mind, in so many people's minds, the purpose of an arguement is to convince the other person to agree with you, in which case, yes, you're right. I am annoying. But I also don't want to go through life trying to convince people to see my way, instead of trying to understand their ideas.

It must be lonely to be you.

But really, my point today is that if you aren't going to be my friend, push me away for a good reason, not a narcissistic one. Hate me because 10 years ago I stole your boyfriend, not because you're ashamed of your actions, or I was honest with you and damaged your ego. Don't hold my physical appearance against me until we've spoken. If you still don't like me after a conversation, fine. But don't waste your time hating someone you don't know, for a reason that has nothing to do with you. It's not fair for either of us.

Psychosomatic

I feel sick.

My neck hurts, my stomach is upset, my throat is sore with the dry coughing and I’m irritable.…

I thought maybe I caught a bug somewhere, but when I called P to ask how he was feeling, he suggested maybe I’m just stressed. I can see that, maybe, considering the circumstances and my lack of control about them, maybe I’m a bit stressed. But I thought I was handling this well. I thought I wasn’t too worried about anything, that money wouldn’t be too much tighter than it is now, but I’m rethinking that idea, and it’s very possible that I’m psycho-somatizing.

Is that even a word?

I’ve been feeling really tired lately, and that gaping chasm in the earth that is my depression feels like it’s going to swallow me whole again. But this time instead of hurling myself over the edge without abandon, I feel like one of those circus-clown bears riding a pink miniature bike with streamers flowing off the handlebars and those clickety-clack beads on the spokes bouncing up and down as I slowly spiral my way into it.

I thought I was handling this well, but I’m scared.

Being faced with possibly losing the house when we already barely have enough cash after bills to pay for food and gas is terrifying. Where would we go? Would our marriage survive a loss like that? We are so far from being content with each other as it is, the stress of worrying more than we already do about money is taking its toll. But I know we’ll have enough, and he’ll find another job soon. At least I think we’ll have enough. We have no savings. I can’t afford insurance for him and if something happened…. We would be screwed.

But I didn’t realize I was so worried about this. The loss of control, and knowing that next week there will be another check is hard. We’ve been hand to mouth for so long I thought we would be comfortable by now, but we’re not. One thing could ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for. It wouldn’t be like this if he listened to me, but part of marriage is letting the other person have a say and this is what happens when he makes financial decisions for us.

I feel awful. I don’t even have the energy to want to read a book and oink out on ice cream, just want to sleep it all away. I really did think I was handling this better, but I guess suppressing the fear and anxiety just makes it manifest in another way.

Damn.

Still Embracing

I’ve been having this weird sensation lately of listening to people talking and thinking “Holy! Is that what I sound like?” Or seeing people walk down the street in an outfit that I could have picked out myself and wondering “Gawd, do I look that weird?” And not in a bad way, but more of an “I wonder what people really think of me” way.

Because I have all these odd preconceptions about myself, and many of them have been validated, but in this new striving-to-not-give-a-shit-that-I’m-a-Weirdo mode, I’m wondering how many of the misconceptions about me I’ve perpetuated.

Let me give you an example. People who don’t’ know me think I’m a bitch. Well, people who know me think the same thing, but for good reason. And it’s not that I’m stuck up, but I’m very shy. And I started musing on why people assume that I’m evil, when they’ve never heard a word out of my mouth. I don’t trust people who don’t’ speak up, so I know that’s part of it. But I started to look at the people I am around, or see on the street, and try to see form an outside perspective how I appear to others.

And wow.

My habit of jumping from topic to topic without finishing a thought? Very annoying.

Smiling at everyone I pass in the hallways at work, but not always saying Hi or Good Morning? A little creepy.

Trying to dress-down fancy pants with sneakers and a tee-shirt? Looks really odd.

Black eyeliner in the middle of the day? Maybe not the softest look.

And all of the above on a pretty girl? Weird. Score!

But really, I think people see me and assume I’m unapproachable. Which it not true most times, but very true some moments. It’s fun to recognize traits in others that you know you have, and I can be amused at the quirks. I’m not perfect, I used to think I was the closest thing to God walking this earth, but I’m over that. I think everyone else was over it before I was.

I know I have blind spots, maybe a look in my eye or a tone to my voice that warns people to stay away? And even if I don’t mean it in the moment, it’s something I’ve developed to protect myself, to set boundaries with people I didn’t want to approach me. So it’s my own fault, but I feel like I have enough maturity and strength to verbally let people know when they are infringing on my personal rights, and I’d like to get rid of my “Stay Way” vibes.

I do notice that people approach me a lot more when I have Taryn. Maybe I need to act every day the way I do when I’m with her. I would probably be much happier if I really felt that all day long. Gawd, that kid is amazing. I can’t pinpoint what it is that makes me act differently with her, maybe because I really am happy, or because I’m less self-conscious since I’m so focused on her. Maybe my self-consciousness is mistaken for bitchiness?

The thing that is irking me with this whole line of thought, and excuse me for being an a-hole by saying this, but why are normal-looking people allowed to be shy, and it is expected that I am not? Not to blow up my head bigger than it already is, but I know most days I look good. It’s just not fair for people to assume that since I’m not outgoing, I’m snotty. If I was ugly, would I have this same problem? I really don’t think people would assume that I quiet because I thought I was better than them, they would assume I was quiet because I was shy.

And I’m shy because all my life I’ve been attracting attention that I didn’t want. It’s traumatic as a 12 year old to have old men at the bus stop telling you the things they want to do to you, thinking you were older. And it’s intimidating to be singled out by teachers as the “very smart, exotic-looking one” and be expected to represent the entire African-American race. It’s a lot of pressure to put on a kid who just wants to fit in and be normal, because no matter what I did, people saw me. I became self-conscious at a young age when I realized that some people could walk into a room and not be noticed, but I was never one of them. It wasn’t always a bad thing, but it was fairly consistent. And I started to over-think every single action, knowing that someone would see it.

And I’ve partly grown out of that, because while yes, people still notice if I walk into a meeting and have a wedgie, I’m realizing that their opinions of me really mean jack. So you think I have no fashion sense? Fine. My hair isn’t perfect? Neither is yours. I screwed up a case and my face turned bright red? Yep, and in about a minute it’ll be back to the beautiful café au laite color you wished yours was. I know, easier said than done, but it is getting easier. And even though it takes constant attention to remind myself that my world will not end if you don’t approve of me, I obviously don’t have much else to focus on right now.

So thanks, you’re helping me to become the Weirdo I’ve always known I was.

Twinkle Twinkle

I was sitting outside last night, looking into the sky and wishing for a sign.

I've been feeling religiously stuck lately, and I want to get back to the innate feeling of being surrounded by God like I used to, but I don't know how. I really wanted a cash-sign, like a winning lotto ticket (even though I don't play) or a huge inheritance (but I don't have any rich relatives).

As I was staring out over the fence line, admiring the beautiful old oak trees on my hill I noticed a single star shining through the cloud cover. I stood up and searched the rest of the sky, but there were no other stars in view. It was before 8pm, and the sky was still fairly bright, so I sat outside for about 15 more minutes contemplating a recent decision P and I made.

No other stars were showing.

And I'm going to take this as a sign that I'm not going against my faith, that God is okay that I'm covering my bases. I need something, and the only way I can find it right now is through Taryn, and I think God understands that.

White Hot Rage

This past weekend, we had another visit from Crazy. It was probably close to midnight, and Will was over having a few drinks. She had called him at least three or four times in the span of an hour, and each time he had told her he was on his way home. At one point, P was inside taking care of business and Will and I were outside talking. Crazy called again and threatened to wake up the Baby to come get him. He reassured her that he was leaving right away, and as soon as he hung up, turned to me and said "If I'm not honest, I know I've got 30 more minutes."

Okay, so granted, their relationship is all types of messed up. He lies, she threatens, he consoles and lies some more, and then she goes off the deep end. He told me he's getting to the point where he just doesn't care anymore. Sad.

But here's what really pisses me off: He knows that if he doesn't go home, she's going to wake the kids up and come looking for him. What kind of father does that? What kind of father would rather lie to stay away from home for an extra 30 minutes when he knows his kids will suffer because of it?

And what kind of selfish biotch mother would do that to her own kids? What crazy-ass person who carried a child for 9 months and went through the pain of childbirth would wake her kids up at midnight, put them in the car, then drive to a house that they most likely recognize, to sit there in the dark while she yells out the car window for him to come home, threatening him with "Don't make me get out of this car, Will!"

What the hell is wrong with these people?

Every time I think about this, my eyes go blank with fury. I'm half-tempted to report these messed-up people to CPS, but I can't figure out who is worse. The Crazy mother who wants her husband home and under her supervision, although from my experience they really don't talk to each other unless they are yelling. Or the drinking, gambling father who will do anything to get out of the house and away from her.

I just don't understand how parents could act in a way that they know their kids will suffer. People like this shouldn't be allowed to raise children together, and I'm all for working things out, but it's been the same old shit for the two years we've known them.

If P and I get to the point that we simply can't get along anymore, we've vowed not to put any of our children in the middle. I'm sure the temptation will be there, since Taryn is the easiest way for us to hurt each other, but we've both been through it ourselves and know how much it can mess a family up.

Peer-Pressure Boyfriends

I've seen two ex-boyfriends in the past 48 hours. I know this county is small, but is there something He is trying to tell me?

Both of these guys were peer-pressure boyfriends, you know that guy (or girl) you date because they are your best friend's cousin or your parent's friend's nephew? The person you are not really into, but you give it a try because if they have so many good things to say about them, maybe they really are a diamond in the rough.

There was absolutely no hanky panky with these two. Call me shallow, but I just could not get past not being physically attracted to them. And maybe I'm unlucky, but I've never been so WOWed by someone's personality that I didn't care what they looked like. Well, maybe once, but only once.

Don't get me wrong, I have crushed on guys who were less-than-stunning, but normally they were so intimidated by me that we never were more than friends. And sadly, I've spent more time with gorgeous a-holes than the aforementioned sweet boys, but I've got a serious sweet spot for a pretty face and a hard body.

But I digress....

Both of these guys were somehow related to my two best friends at the time. Neither was what I would normally go for, and yes, they were sweet, but I remember both being very needy (serious turn-off to me) and more interested in trying to get in my pants than trying to get to know me (also turn-off). Neither lasted long, and neither was a real "boyfriend" as I don't remember any inclination on my part to not look for something better while I was seeing them. What an a-hole I am.

The sad thing is that I think they may have really liked me. I was so cruel back then, on the prowl for my perfect man and totally discounting anyone who wasn't exactly what I thought I wanted. And it was for a reason, I was looking for P, but I didn't know that, and I was too self-centered to consider their feelings at the time. It was all me, all the time. And it didn't help that they seemed to agree, they were both aware (I think) of me checking out other guys, and I may have been a bit of a flirt and really didn't give a hot damn about trying to conceal my intentions towards other men when they were around. Even after I basically told each that I was bored with them, we still hung out as friends, but I would still strut around like a horndog on a stick looking for my next conquest.

So anyway. No point really, just trying to figure out what the karmic mesage is in seeing these two this week. Any ideas?

This is How My Mind Works

I started this blog for two reasons. One, I wanted a way to keep in touch with the majority of my family that lives out of California. I wanted a medium, aside from mass-emails in which to update these important people in my life, because I didn't feel like I was capable of doing it in a one-on-one manner. I haven't quite succeeded in this goal, but I'm working on it.

The other main reason I started this blog was to have a place to be open and honest with myself. A place where I could write and process my thoughts because for me, I don't feel like I can fully process a situation or idea wihtout putting it in writing. That's just how my mind works. I write to process and explore the different feelings, emotions, ideas, etc that tumble around in my mind like a sandstorm, each particle a conflicting part of myself that I somehow have to come to terms with.

I feel like lately I've been getting a lot of heat from folks reading this blog. My intention when I write here is not to attack anyone without giving them an opportunity to defend themselves, or to be passive-aggressive to put this all in writing out in the blog-o-sphere, and hope that the person I am referring to will read it. My intention is to process my feelings, that's all.

I'm not like other people. I don't automatically feel compassion and empathy. My initial reaction to most things is a combination of disgust, anger, hurt, shame and a whole slew of other negative feelings. Unlike most people, I need to process these feelings in order to reach the humane part of myself who can be understanding and sympathetic to others. I feel like I've built up so many layers of negativity in my life, that pain and guilt have become the filters in which I see the world through.

I'm not an entertainer. I don't write comical posts daily. If something it outright funny to me, then yes, that single post may be amusing to others. But I can't get to that enjoyment in life if I can't process all the other stuff. And I can't slant my blog to write for others and neglect the parts of my that need to be expressed. I did start a new blog on a different host sight a while back for the sole intent of blogging all the negativity there. I didn't want to hurt the people close to me, but I had to get it out somehow. I've stopped posting there though. It feels false to me to have all my funny stories and amazements about Taryn here, and all the "shit" there. I've compartmentalized my life enough, and in order to be open and honest I need people to know all the sides of me, even the dark painful corners I've been hiding for years.

This is my consciousness. This is how I think. I write what the voice in my head is saying, and it may not be easy for others to hear but what can I say? I'm sorry?

I am sorry people are offended. I am sorry people feel the need to explain their actions and reactions when I blog about a situation. I'm sorry I'm not like you guys, but I'm not sorry for using this space, my blog, to process. My initial reaction is to say, look. If you can't handle what I'm writing, then maybe you shouldn't be reading this. But I'm not going to ask you to leave, I'm only asking you to be understanding of what I am doing, what my intention is, and to understand as well that if something is really bothering me, I'll come to you about it.

For the most part, I eventually get it. I eventually understand that you were being affected by medication, or we misunderstood each other, or that I read too much into the situation. The difference is I blog the thought processes that led me to my final understanding, and you are getting a glimpse of those thoughts, and not just the final result.

I don't know what else to say.

Dimension of Confusion

Due to our lack of childcare for the next couple weeks, an event almost entirely out of our control, P and I will be alternating days to take off work to watch T-Boog. As soon as we figured out that we don't exactly have someone to watch her the whole time I called Blondie and Toe-Nail-Less and let them know that they too will have to find someone to watch Cheeks until Nanny is back. I offered to watch him while I was home with T-Boog, and assummed they would take me up on the offer so that Blondie could see him at lunch, and really, it just seemed easier than asking around to find someone else to do it.

But this morning I found out that I won't be watching him at all, and I'm pretty bummed out about it.

I think of Cheeks more as my nephew than a friend of T-Boog's. He's awesome with her, very gentle and playful and friendly, and such a joy to be around. Admittedly, the thought of watching them both was daunting at first. But mentally as I ran through what a day would look like, I started getting excited. I want to know what it will be like to have two kids, and although it's probabaly harder with two this close in age, I thought it would be a great experience for me, and would (hopefully) give me some insight and confidence about having another baby. I had already figured out the hot spots, feeding and naptime, and how I would be able to handle both at those times, and also if I could put T-Boog's old carseat back in my car and take them to the park, or something.

I guess it's my own fault for assumming I would get to watch him, without hearing difinitively that it would happen. But really, what's compounding the disappointment is the fact that they offered originally to pay me what they pay Nanny to watch him, but decided instead to pay someone else more to do it.

So then I'm left thinking, what the hell? Do they not trust me to watch him? Why would someone who can't afford more for ongoing childcare pay a neighbor or another friend more than they offer to Nanny?

And it's not that I would want anything to watch Cheeks, I would do it for free to help them out. And I get that paying Nanny more on an ongoing basis is very different than a one-time gig, but still.

The mind-tripping is being super compounded by the extra dose of caffeine today, and I should probably just let this go, but I don't understand. Do they not feel like she deserves more? And what would make someone choose to pay a childless friend when they could have a mother watch him for free?

I think my own insecurities are coming up, that I'm not a good-enough mother for my own child, so why would someone trust me with their kid? Is there something about how I act with T-Boog that would make someone not want to leave their child with me? Is it a personal thing? And in a quasi-emergency situation, what would I do? Could I hanlde two kids? Should I even consider another child if a friend won't leave hers with me for a day?

But I know I can't take it personally. I have friends who are mothers that I would not necessarily leave T-Boog with, but I never considered that people might think of me like that. And I still think of them as good friends, and would leave T-Boog with them if I absolutley needed to, but maybe that's whats thought about me. In an emergency? Yes. If we have any other option at all? No.

But really? Fuck it. I can't trip off this because what's done is done. It just adds another dimesion of confusion to the relationship. I know that my intentions and my love for my child are as pure as they get, so I have to take these three extra days alone with her as a blessing. Maybe we'll get a chance to go to the beach again, or maybe to a fair, or the Farmer's Market. Because these are things we can't do with another baby with us. And I can't assign thoughts and intentions to others, because that just builds resentment (on my side) that's impossible for them to dispel because I'm too much of a chicken-shit to tell them how ... truth be told, I'm hurt, but it could be completely misplaced and irrational, and I have to get over it.

Soooo. I'll be off the 9th, 10th, 12th, and 17th this month. If anyone wants to hang out?