All for an All White Horse

At my job, I get to meet a lot of different people every day. Some are funny, some are very sweet, some are absolutely adorable, and then there are some who are none of the above.

And I can almost guarantee I will be asked, at least once a day, “Do you have a boyfriend?” The answer to that is always “Yes”. No matter what the truth may be.

So it was Friday, when Mr. Colin came in and started an interesting conversation with me. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Yes. Do you have a girlfriend?
NO! When are you going on a date with your boyfriend?
Tonight maybe.
You should break up with him. He’s too ugly for you. You should call him right now and break up with him and we’ll go on a date.

Eventually we got around to birthdays and since mine is coming up next month, Colin asked me what my other boyfriend was going to buy me. “I’ll bet it’s not very cool”
Oh I don’t know, he usually buys me really cool stuff.
Not an all white horse cool
No, not an all white horse cool.
I’ll buy you an all white horse for your birthday.

I promptly texted my other boyfriend and told him “I’m breaking up with you. Colin has promised to buy me an all white horse for my birthday. You never bought me an all white horse. Ever.”
Who’s Colin?
He’s the 6-year-old who says you’re too ugly for me and he’s buying me an all white horse for my birthday.

One Year

One year.

It has been a year today.

Last year, I was coming home from dropping the girls off with their dad for two weeks. Thank god I was on my way home, without them. I knew I was on borrowed time. Let’s be honest, anyone who is in trouble knows they are in trouble. My luck ran out.

I spent 23 days and $650 in jail. I spent my 44^th birthday in jail. I spent the 4^th of July in jail.

July 8^th will mark the year anniversary of when I was finally released. The next three weeks I will live remembering “last year I was sitting in jail, this year I’m not missing these days”.

And Swamp Goats Everywhere Cringed

Have you seen or even heard about this (NSFW) video? This total red-neck hoosier of a woman totally goes off on Dunkin Donuts employees because, get this, she didn’t get a receipt with her order the day before.

She had come in the day before and was not given a receipt with her order. Now, Dunkin Donuts’ policy is “If you are not given a receipt with your order, you are entitled to a refund of your purchase”. This disillusioned customer thought the policy was “If you are not given a receipt with your order you are entitled to come back the next day and order everything on the menu. Twice. For free. And you are allowed to insult our employees and their heritage as well.”

She said she already called a lawyer and “he is on it”.

Over a Dunkin Donuts order.

That probably didn’t total $10.

Because clearly she has suffered mental anguish due to her having to get out her smart phone, make a video of her rant over Dunkin Donuts incompetent rude employees and having to post it to Facebook and YouTube. Clearly she’s entitled to tens of dollars in a settlement. Of course after her attorney takes his cut she’ll probably end up with enough to buy a dozen donut holes. Maybe.

Is this just another example of over inflated sense of entitlement, or just an example of a mouth breathing swamp goat at her best?

The answer is yes to both.

The next day Dunkin Donuts honored the employees who stood there and took her insults and bigoted racist rant, keeping calm and professional and never once said a word against the customer. In fact they tried to go out of their way to make her happy, which, was never going to happen. Kudos to Dunkin Donuts and their employees for putting a positive spin on an utterly ridiculous situation.

To the customer trying to make a point, I have this to say:

You went in to this establishment expecting the moon and stars when you were only entitled to a refund of your purchase price. You were actually a day late and a dollar short. I am not sure exactly what you hoped to accomplish by this little stunt of yours but clearly you hoped to get much more than you were entitled to.

And you got much more than you bargained for.

You claimed you were going to post your video online (which you did) and it would garner at least a million hits (which it probably will) but not for the reasons you had hoped. This has backfired on you in ways you could never have imagined with that tiny closed mind of yours. See, the only party who comes out looking bad in this situation is you.

Now that this video is out there and the media has picked up on it, you have had to remove your Facebook account because of the backlash. You showed your ass, and it wasn’t pretty.

All over an oversight on the part of the employee, and a $10 order of donuts. DONUTS? Cupcakes maybe, but donuts?

You are not entitled to whatever you want. Life, and Dunkin Donuts, does not owe you anything. And surely not the entire menu. Twice.

Please do yourself, (and us) a favor and crawl back under the rock you came out from under. You have given swamp goats everywhere a bad name.

ABC Me

I was sneaking a peek at my Google Reader at work, feeling horribly guilty for not having blogged more (or at all) since I started working, when I saw this meme posted by Traci. Ah a fairly simple way to write, that can easily be interrupted by customers without losing my train of thought!

Alphabet Meme

A. Attached or Single? I’ll let you know, when I do.

B. Best Friend? Diamonds? To be honest, I don’t know that I have a best friend.

C. Cake or pie? Pie. Unless it’s cheesecake, then cake.

D. Day of choice? One day is as good as the next, or the last. It’s what happens during that day that is what’s special.

E. Essential Item? I hate to admit it, but my phone. I am as attached to it as my teenage daughters.

F. Favorite color? Pink

G. Gummy bears or worms? Gummy nothing. I don’t do gummy. Period.

H. Hometown? I don’t have a hometown. My dad was a minister so I moved every 3 years my entire childhood. I don’t have very deep roots, anywhere.

I. Favorite Indulgence? A manicure, a new pair of shoes, a slice of cheesecake.

J. January or July? July. It’s my birth month, and it’s summer. Sun, fireworks, bar-b-ques, margaritas, boating, swimming. What’s not to love?

K. Kids? Three. Son (19) Two daughters (16 & 13)

L. Life isn’t complete without? Friends & family.

M. Marriage date?
First: Dec 31,1991. Second: June 6, 1999. Third: Probably around the second of never gonna happen.

N. Number of brothers/sisters? One of each, both younger.

O. Oranges or Apples? Oranges in margaritas.

P. Phobias? Fear of heights.

Q. Quotes? I got lots of them. None of which I can remember right now.

R. Reasons to smile? I have a job. I earn a paycheck, the girls are home again, their dad is making progress towards his transplant, it’s summer, I am not in jail, I am back to my happy weight. Almost.

S. Season of choice? Baseball, pre and post.

T. Tag 5 People:

U. Unknown fact about me? There are no unknown facts about me. There is at least one person who knows every fact about me, even if that one person is me. One unknown fact I haven’t mentioned online? With Facebook and Twitter, I’m not sure I could find one. So, let’s see… unknown fact about me: I hate my handwriting most of the time. I love to doodle, and can fill pages of scrap paper with meaningless writing of random words, and most of the time I hate my writing.

V. Vegetable? Corn on the cob off the grill, steamed broccoli, and that’s really just about it.

W. Worst habit? In the winter, I pick my chapped lips when I am reading a book. I have done it most of my life.

X. X-ray or Ultrasound? Wait, what? X-ray or Ultrasound? This is called we needed words for X and U and this is the best we could come up with and tie them together. So, X-ray or Ultrasound? Purple.

Y. Your favorite food? Mexican food. Margaritas.

Z. Zodiac sign? Cancer.

 

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Paris Jackson

Paris Jackson was taken to the hospital last night, early this morning, with an apparent suicide attempt. How do I know this? Because it’s all over the news. Right along with the $560 million dollar lottery winner coming forward. Clearly they are on the same level.

What I have heard about Paris is that last night she was on Twitter, tweeting things that, if someone had been paying real attention, would have been heard as cries for help. Someone in her life has told her “You’re crazy. You need therapy.” Any one of the extended Jackson family could have easily said that. But being a Jackson, especially the daughter of Michael, has to come with a great deal of ‘crazy’ inducing situation.

Paris has lived her life in the public eye. The world has known about her basically since her conception. The world has always been curious to see the child of the King of Pop. Because of who her father is, because of her aunts, uncles, and grandparents, she has been a curiosity at best, and a commodity at worst. She has never been allowed to really be a child.

Now, here she is, at her most vulnerable since losing her father, and she is once again having to find her way through an overwhelming swell of emotions in the public eye. At her worst, the media still believes, because of her genealogy we have a right to invade her privacy and splash her faults, her downfall, her pain all across the world. I can only imagine that only compounds the problem that led her to do what she did.

The world claims to wait for news of her recovery, offering love and support, sending thoughts and prayers. But she’s a Jackson, the world is waiting for explanations, and watching who points fingers at whom.

Paris is a 16 year old teenage girl. I am the mother of a 16 year old teenage girl. That age is not always easy. It can be downright shitty at times. Paris is trying to live a normal teenage life in a world that will never allow her to be a normal teenager. The world will wait for press releases, and the Jackson family will not disappoint in that area. The world will devour every word said about the situation, and in the media frenzy the fact that there is a very lost, very hurt, very sad 16 year old girl at the heart of this will be lost.

Coming Up for Air

I have finally found a minute to sit down and breathe and thought I would check in.  The new job is going great, even if it means I come home and drop dead tired.  I work long hours (7:30-6:00 Mon-Fri, 8:00-5:00 Sat) on my feet most of the time.  I drive an hour both ways, so I leave my house around 6:00, and I get up around 4:00.  It is still a great job, and I am thankful for it.  I get my first paycheck Friday and while it won’t be enough to cover all I owe, it will be a start.  And I am thankful for that too.

There have been some interesting developments in the relationship department.  Things look hopeful and that’s about all I’m willing to say right now.  Saying any more will jinx it, but I will say I smile again, and I keep my phone close and giggle inside at the sound of a new message.

The girls have just two and a half days of school left.  I am not sure yet if it is is the worst thing or most awesome thing ever that I got a job just as the girls are out of school for the summer.  Muri is 16 this year, and I always knew this summer would come, the summer she wants to stay here and have a summer with her friends, instead of spending so much time at her Dad’s.  That’s going to be for them to work out, but I knew this day would come.   I can’t really blame her, she is 16 now, and friends are super important to her.  Besides, everyone here gets to have a summer together, summer trips, summer memories, and she has always missed out.  She doesn’t want to any more.

I am the office manager at an auto repair shop, and that means I see all kinds of people in all styles of dress.  I use the word style loosely.  I often wonder if these people even have mirrors in their houses.  It is amazing what people think looks good on them.  And if their friends told them it does, they really aren’t their friends.

Our internet is somewhat blocked at work, but I think I have found a way around that to post.  Things will look different, there will be no pictures, and my SEO will tank, but it means posting more than once a week.  Hopefully things will settle into a better routine soon.

 

 

 

I Have Struggled

I have struggled this week with what to do with this place here.  After 19 months of unemployment I finally have found a job.  It means I work long hours, and I don’t always have time to be here to write.  Of course I always have Sundays but still… is one or two days a week enough?

Unemployment wears on a person if it goes on long enough.  It is not always as glamorous as some people make it sound. Sure it’s kind of nice to not have the crazy morning mad rush to get out the door on time.  but being poor house broke, and trying to pay the bills is stressful.

After a while I began to resent people who had a job and a paycheck.  Who had the  money to buy what they wanted, or even needed.  I began to feel as if they were bragging about their paychecks, their money, their freedom.  Not being able to get a job wore on my self-esteem.  I projected those feelings on to people with jobs, feeling as if they thought they were better than me.  A $300 head unit for a car stereo, $400 Oakley shades, new Nike tennis shoes, and I am scraping money together just to buy toilet paper and shampoo.

Of course it wasn’t their fault.  They had done nothing wrong.  They were just living their life, earning their money spending it on what they wanted.  It was not their fault I couldn’t find a job, and had no money.

Yet I was pissed off at them.  I took it out on them.  I was jealous and resentful.

It was not their fault, and I was being completely unfair and a total bitch.

I went back to work this week.  For the same company Brian works for.  The first day I sent him a text message “All those days you came home tired and I pouted because I wanted to go out and do something? Thanks for not punching me in the face.”  I get it now, it is long hours, on your feet all day, and very seldom is there a break.  I went home all three days this past week exhausted.  All I wanted to do was sit down and do nothing else the rest of the day.

I get it now.

Now that it’s too late.

Hired

I got the phone call last night.

“Are you still looking for a job?”
“Yes, I am”
“Would you like to come work for us?”
“Yes, yes I would”

The details haven’t been discussed, that will be later today.  But it would seem that I have finally, after 19 months, found a real, honest to god, show up every day and earn a paycheck, job.

With the same company Brian works for.  Yes, Brian.  Isn’t that ironic.   We will not be working together, not in the same store, not in the same town.  But I find a bit of irony in all of it.

And for the first time in the almost four months since “I’m Done”, we talked.  Superficially, nothing serious, and not for very long.  He is aware of the job offer, he did offer congratulations.  It’s just so strained, and distant, and strange.  And difficult, very difficult to hear his voice, read his texts, know that I still love him because I didn’t get a say in any of this, and he doesn’t love me.

And I don’t know why.

But this isn’t about him.  This is I have a job offer.  I have a job.  Someone asked me what I would be doing.  That’s simple, I would be showing up every day to work, and getting paid.

It is Like it Never Happened at All

Today, I deleted ever single text message, song, picture and ringtone associated with him from my phone.

I took off all the jewelry, and put in the shoebox in my closet, along with every note, and card he had ever given me.

I went through all of my clothes and shoes and put away all the gifts he had given me over the years.

To look around, there is no visible trace of him, or us, anywhere on me or around me.

It is like the past six+ years never happened at all.

Except that it all lives inside my head and echoes in my heart.

When he said I need to move on, he seems to have meant it.  It is so painful to those left behind how quickly and easily men move on to the next, as if we are so easily discarded.  As if I never happened at all.

There are those who want to remind me of the tears I have shed and hurt we caused each other over the years. They are ready to remind me of holidays spent alone, of disappointments, of past sins and all his faults.  I am sure there are as many people in his camp who are telling him he did the right thing, he’s better off without me, this is for the best, they never really liked me anyway.

And every single one of them, in both camps would be absolutely right.

And oh so terribly wrong.

I don’t know what moving on looks like for him.  I know what is sounds like.  It is complete and utter silence.  It is my phone not pinging with a text message.   I don’t know if he will ever come back, and that is pretty damn close to the first time I have admitted that out loud.  It will take me another day or two to get around to accepting the finality of all of this.

It’s taken three weeks today to get to this point.  Three weeks to accept six years was a good run, and that we more than likely will never live happily ever after.  At least not together.

I am Lucky this Happened? Really?

Why does everyone feel the need to say stupid shit when a relationship ends?

• Maybe this is for the best.
• You’ll find someone better.
• You’re too young to give up on love
• You need someone to share your life with
• You’re lucky this happened now and not after you got married.

I just want to junk punch people when they say any of those things.   I’m lucky this happened? Really? Lucky?  Well, let’s go play the lottery!

I know that while the end of a relationship is painful for the people in the relationship, it’s also awkward for their friends.  People are hurting and its human nature to comfort them.  But how do you ease that kind of pain?  You don’t.

I know that everyone means well, I know that they don’t know what to say really, and saying nothing seems callous.  But the truth of the matter is, they (and by they I mean I) will wallow in this misery as long as I decide to.

Apparently that was until last night.  Last night I decided, it is what it is, and I can not change who what I can’t control. He left for his reasons, and he’ll stay gone for those reasons, and sitting on my couch crying every morning isn’t going to bring him back.

Do I miss him?  Like I would miss my right leg.  Do I still panic every morning when I wake up? Yep, and I still pick up the phone eleventy billion times a day to text him something funny or to see how his day is.  And I put it back down, and walk away.

People in my life will say this is best, he’s jerked  you along, this is a pattern, isn’t it enough?  I am sure there are people in his family that will say he’s better off, that my meds were never right, that nobody should have to deal with my bipolar disorder.

I guess that’s all up to us to decide, and right now, for whatever reason, he has decided.  I have to respect that.  What other choice do I have?

Life goes on, and today was the first day I didn’t spend curled up in a ball in the corner of my couch crying so hard I could barely breathe.  I still check my phone for texts from him, even though I know there won’t be any.  It seems some habits are harder to break.

It will be three weeks tomorrow.  (I have always counted) it could be another three weeks, or three months.  Or never, although I refuse to believe that.  I got up, got dressed, even put on make up and faced the world.  That’s more than I’ve done in the past three weeks. So there is progress.

• I don’t see how any of this is for the best, but then again, everything happens for a reason even if we don’t know the reason.
• I don’t think there is anyone better, and if there is, I’m not interested.
• I am going to be 45 this summer, that’s too old to start over. I’m tired of this game. I wanted to be settled, and if settled means alone, then settled means alone.
• I have someone to share my life with, I have my daughters, and I have friends, and really my life isn’t all that exciting. Sharing it would just bore people.
• Lucky this happened before we got married? I don’t see how I am lucky at all.  But I will be OK. I will get through this like I have before.

 

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