The Curse of the Text Message

The text…..I loathe the text for multiple reasons, and when I share my initial disdain I’m greeted with nothing but gasps and odd looks. People have become dependent on the text, and I think that’s BS. Sure, I’ve been known to text here and there, but there’s so much MORE to be said about an actual conversation with someone, where non-verbal cues such as tone of voice play a large roll when you’re communicating your message.

I actually have a few specific reasons why I hate texting:

1. It’s completely impersonal

2. It’s WAY MORE distracting to others around you (specifically others you’re hanging out with) if you’ve got your nose in your phone and your thumbs moving a billion miles a minutes when the conversation you’re desperately trying to have with the person you’re texting could be over and done within three minutes

3. It’s way too damn immediate for comfort…no different than email really. You can spout off a message, be it cruel or kind, hit the send button and POOF! It’s out there, for the recipient to read and become extremely offended.

Let me elaborate a little more on the lovely reason number three….

People, it’s no secret (here) that there is man in my life I consider the one that got away (although, in looking back through my archives, trying to find a link to the stories of HIM, I came up empty…either I renamed him incredibly well, to the point that I can’t find my tales, or I refused to write about him, I digress…). To refresh your memory, I’ve known said man since I was a senior in high school. We have shared some AMAZING moments in the past ten+ years. Moments that included bar hopping in a small town, jumping in puddles, a couple of make-out sessions, and even a candle lit evening with a bubble bath (one of my most cherished memories, no joke).

I can’t put my thumb on it, but the timing for us NEVER SEEMED TO WORK. Be it we lived in hours apart, one of us was dating someone, then the roles would reverse, etc. etc. etc. It was almost as if karma was playing a cruel trick on my heart. Then, there was the time at the State Fair. The time when I was three months preggo (which, if you aren’t familiar, is a time when a girl looks like she has severe muffin top syndrome, but doesn’t quite look like she’s brewing a baby in her stomach) and at the fair with my ex-bf turned friend. He was there with a girlfriend….and when we ran into each other it was almost as if nobody else existed. Damn it was a great moment…but then we parted ways, and my continued to feel the pain from our poor timing.

Through the grace of god, Facebook was created…which not only gave me the opportunity to secretly (STALK) catch up on things going on in his life, but allowed me the platform to get together with him (although, at this point in my life, I was a single mom of an 18 month old…see? Poor timing).

He’s been engaged for a while now….set to get married this coming fall. I’m happy for him because I want him to be happy, but my stomach churns because we never had a chance to see if it would or wouldn’t have worked.

(stick with me people, I’m slowly but surely getting to my point)

Last night, his Facebook message was this: “I have the night off with nothing to do” so OF COURSE I COULDN’T HELP BUT PICK UP MY PHONE AND TEXT HIM (WHY PEOPLE?!?! WHY?!?!)

“I’m offended you didn’t call me since you had the night off”

…and so it began….a texting conversation that lasted about an hour. I wound up telling him most of what I had been bottling up inside of me for the past seven years. He told me he had wanted to try to date seven years ago….which broke my heart even more. I literally ugly cried while I typed out my feelings. It was really quite sad and pathetic….and nothing he wanted or needed to hear, rather something I needed to tell him. Perhaps I’ve told him these things in the past, but as his wedding date creeps near, I can’t control how upset the thought of things never actually happening between us make me.

I don’t regret the texting last night…but I’d be damned to say that conversation would’ve taken place before the text message existed.

Seriously Life....Settle down already!!

I'm am crabby today. Downright pissy, actually...and instead of unloading on a friend and burdening them with my petty bullshit, I'm unloading it here...because, why the hell not?

My LOVELY mother (insert copious amounts of sarcasm here) and I have not been on speaking terms for over a week because she had the audacity to insinuate that I was a bad mother because I had asked for help watching my son to go to an all-attend work meeting which announced the layoff of seven employees from my office. Thankfully, I was not a victim of this layoff, however, my office is very small and very close, so a good friend of mine was. In lieu of going STRAIGHT to pick up my son when the meeting was over, I drove to my coworkers house...she had left the office BEFORE I had arrived for the meeting, and was sitting at home alone, wallowing in the news that she would no longer be employed.....so, I did what any friend would do...I went and made sure she wasn't alone, listened to her vent, and was there.

Ya know, it would be one thing if I unloaded my son on my mother and her husband ALL OF THE TIME, but the fact is, I don't, especially because bullshit like this happens. She (for whatever reason) becomes a jealous bitch, and I won't tolerate her snarky attitude. I am open and up front with her, and tell her I don't understand or appreciate her attitude and that I refuse to fight with her...but after I hear that she's spread her ugly opinion to my father (the man whom she cheated on and divorced 11 years ago) I consider the line crossed.

I'm done with her...which makes me equally happy and sad. Does anyone want to adopt a 28 year old single mother and her 5 year old son?

Speaking of five-year-olds...holy shit has he been pushing my buttons lately. Where do I even begin? Oh, I know! How about finding my work clothes smeared with his shit?! Yeah, you read that right. He literally decided to wipe his ass with MY CLOTHES!!!! I swear to god.

His response: "It will come out in the laundry, mom."

...You'd also think Kindergarten would be a BREEZE OF A YEAR for the parent of a school kid. WRONG. Kindergarten has been hell thus far. From a call from my son's teacher explaining that he was put in a Kindergarten version of detention called the "sit and think room" from bashing a kid in the face with his lunch box, to hearing daily that his name has been put on the board because he isn't listening...oh, and HERE's a good one...he had an older kid do his damn homework for him!! Yup...my son is "that kid."

Trying to be a "fun mom" we bought three pumpkins over the weekend as part of my son's reward for not getting his name on the board on Friday. Last night, as part of a reward for my son behaving at a wake we had to attend, we got to carve the pumpkins. OF COURSE the safe pumpkin knife broke after the first pumpkin...and OF COURSE it was 9pm so we couldn't run out to get another knife. Do I wait until today to carve the rest of my pumpkins? Nope. That would be TOO easy. Instead, I try to use my six inch serrated knife....I know you know where this is going.

Yup. I put that damn knife into the tip of my thumb. I let out over a dozen expletives, attempted to control the massive bleeding amongst the throbbing pain to see just how far the knife went into my thumb (about 3/4 of a centimeter, enough to warrant a lot of blood, not enough for me to justify an embarrassing trip to the ER). Typically, I could give two hoots if I was single or in a relationship...unless something tramatic like lodging a six inch serrated knife into the tip of your thumb happens....moments like those I hate the fact that I'm single and alone.

Not only was I fighting tears of physical pain, but those are the moments in my life when the tears of my loneliness creep in...and MASSIVE amounts of ugly-crying inevitably happen.

I responded as level headed as possible after that, shaking as I tried to unwrap fingertip band aids with my teeth, and downing 1000 mg of ibuprofen, then calling it a night.

Today hasn't been much better, although, as I got into my car at lunch time some sappy song was playing on the radio about keeping your head up and blah blah blah. I looked at my car radio, and said "Dude, I'm trying, alright?! Lay off."

Where to start...

I'm a minute away from asking my mom to go to counseling with me... Doesn't that sound like a basket of vomit? Yeah, I agree.



It's so frustrating to feel so completely disconnected from your parents, especially when they live within 20minutes from you, and are alive, breathing, but mentally unhealthy.



I have little to no common ground with either of my parents, but my relationship with my mom is ugly.



Passive aggressive. (read: I get my sarcastic whit from my father)



Bottled feelings. (read: the woman drinks...a lot)



I refuse to bring my son to her house on a regular basis because they regularly smoke...inside....and I wish it were just cigarettes.



I have moments like these a few times a year...where I feel emotionally beaten to a frustrated lump of a person. Eeyore syndrome flows through my veins uncontrollably. All I want to do is punch a few pillows, scream, then sink into my bed pulling the covers over my head... wishing, hoping and praying for a change in my life long failed relationship with my mom.



I need help relating to her. I need her to choose to quit drinking. I need her to choose to be a responsible grandmother, just as I've chosen to be a responsible parent. I need my mom to be a mom, and not a selfish 50 year old woman. I need to stop feeling so much resentment towards her.



Co-counseling feels like the only option I have left.



I've tried sitting down at her house, telling her my feelings. Shit hits the fan and nothing is accomplished. = fail.



I've tried meeting with her, one on one, in a public place. I always feel like there's light at the end of the tunnel...but when we follow through and attempt to "hang out" post serious discussion, she (literally) reverted to texting and wondering off to smoke. = fail.



I've tried to have shouting matches with her. = fail.



I've tried to explain myself through ugly crying. = fail.



Dammit I am so sick of trying.



But I will continue to try....hence, counseling. (is it horrible of me to hope and pray that her insurance will cover this?!)



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++



On a semi-unrelated note:



I am SOOOOOO ready for August to be OVER. It's been a great year, but good LORD August has kicked my rear upside down and backwards. So, here's to you, September, it took ya long enough to get here!!

Wow.

Yesterday HAD to be a full moon. My mood was up, then down, then kinda up, then REALLY down. I couldn't blame my mood swings on pms, but more or less bottling up my feelings of dating frustration...and having the bottle explode in my face.

I'm alone, and I've been telling myself that it's alright to be alone (which it is...) but in reality, I'm SICK of being alone.

I'm tired of not having someone to share life's moments with.

I'm frustrated that I let men into my life and that they only seem to stick around for one night.

I'm jealous that everyone around me is finding their "one."

I want to wake up next to a sleeping, gentle soul...who is just as much into me as I am into him.

After a few conversations with some great friends, I began snapping out of my mood-roller coaster. Laying in bed, I realized how many people I've actually attempted to date, or made-out with in the past few years....and to be honest...it's kind of a lot!

Alaska, California, Chi-Town, Country Boy, Tall Boy, Penny....and the list goes on!

I still stand by my opinion that I'm a pretty awesome chick. I still believe (in my heart of hearts) that I'm worth the trouble to some man out there. I mean, I love beer, football (most professional sports, for that matter...), cooking and laughing...really? What more is there to want?!

I think I am the epitome of a broken road....I know it will lead me to him eventually, so I should quit my bitchin' already and learn from the potholes.

Life is too short to spend it crying.

Turning Back Tuesday's

Introducing: Ed

Mark and I had been on again off again for about a year and a half. He kept telling me he didn't want a relationship, I kept saying "me neither" but was totally lying about it (I'm such a typical girl, eh?)

My aunt had recently purchased a bar in a hotel..and I desperately needed cash. It wasn't a glorious position, but I took it...and found myself loving it. I was serving, and always had cash. Most shifts, I only pulled about forty dollars...I wasn't complaining, money was money and I was a poor college student!

One day I walked into work, and there he was. Ed. He was tall, with dark hair, dark brown eyes, and my heart immediately started fluttering. Little did I know, I was about to travel down a path that would be filled with tears, frustration, and the most effed up emotional roller coaster I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy. (Now doesn't that just sound like fun?? note:copious amounts of sarcasm)

I found out Ed was single, we went out a couple of nights, and then decided we liked each other enough to start dating. The first red flag flew into the air when he told me I wouldn't be his girlfriend unless I was having sex with him. I doubted his intentions, but was yearning for an exclusive relationship. I gave in after a week, and sealed the deal. We were exclusive.

Ed loved to party. He loved to rock out, and always ended up black-out drunk when he did so. (Another red flag was being whipped by the winds around me..but I was a young girl in denial of my surroundings). His eyes continued to make me melt, even after I had seen him rip a door off it's hinges or punch holes in the walls. I saw good in him, at least that's what I kept telling myself.


I saw good in him even after I found out he had a baby living in Seattle.
I saw good in him when I found out he smoked a lot of weed.
I saw good in him after I found out he had been arrested multiple times.
I saw good in him after I found out he was on probation.
I saw good in him when I learned about his living situation, which included paying rent to a fifty year old woman who was interested in sleeping with Ed every chance she got.

The good light I kept telling myself existed inside of him slowly began to fade. We weren't getting along. I was also beginning to feel like all Ed wanted me for was sex. Literally. It was the coldest, ugliest feeling I've ever felt in my life.

Another thing about Ed...He didn't like using protection. He promised me he'd "pull out" and I cowardly went along with it. I couldn't afford birth control, and I didn't like how I felt when I was on birth control...so I operated under the assumption that it would never happen to me. The chances of getting pregnant were slim in general, right? Wrong. Literally, I was just a piece of ass to him. I love sex, don't get me wrong..but he could've accomplished the same thing with a blow-up doll, and not knocked the doll up.

About the middle of May in 2005, I found myself at home, waiting to receive a phone call from Ed. In the meantime, I decided to watch movies by myself. It was actually shaping up to be a lovely peaceful night. At 11:30, there was a knock on my door. It was Ed. His eyes had completely lost their luster.

There was something different about him, I just couldn't put my finger on it. I invited him in, and before I knew it, my night had spun out of control. Ed refused to leave my house, for fear I would call the police. He had no reason to believe I would call the police, because up until that point, he hadn't done anything wrong aside from not leaving when I asked him to. I finally told him I was going to leave, and then he took my phone.

My cell was my only telephone, so I struggled with him to get it back. He ended up removing the sim card, and giving my phone back. I threw my hands up in frustration, went back inside my house, and locked the door behind me.

To my surprise, he wasn't through yellingtalking. He proceeded to break into my house, and when I realized what was going on, I made my best effort to pop the screen off of my bedroom window. I was scared, and the damn screen wouldn't open. I was trapped inside my own home, and it was terrifying. When he had me cornered in my room, I tried pushing my way free. He picked me up, threw me down on my bed, laying on top of me while holding his hand over my mouth. I thought he was going to kill me. He told me to stop crying, I held my breath. When he finally let me stand up, he asked me why I was acting so crazy. I couldn't believe my ears. It was then, and only then that I realized if I was going to make it out of my house unscathed, I had to start flipping out. I responded by flying past him to show him what and how he had just entered my house. The very second I had a clear shot at the door, I bolted straight for my car, started it up, and drove away.

I've never cried more in my life. I had survived an extremely terrifying experience. The next morning I filed a restraining order against him. I wasn't going to let him scare me anymore. The only downside was we still worked together, and my boss at the time didn't respect the fact that Ed had almost killed me, and kept scheduling us to work together

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I wish I could make this stuff up.

I called him up, and told him the news. We met, he told me he would change, but his psychotic 50 year old roommate who wanted to bone him wouldn't let him spend the night with me, and instead told him that if he left with me she would call the police herself (what a bitch). That night, I went home alone and knocked up.

The next three days, I couldn't reach Ed. I later found out he had gone on a three-day meth binge.

I was clueless that Ed was using meth, but it definitely explained his behavior the two weeks prior. I made a pledge to myself to put me, and my unborn child first.

I quit my job, and reorganized my life. I renewed the restraining order when baby boy was four months old, and moved shortly thereafter.

The last time I spoke with Ed was when I was five months pregnant. He randomly called me from an unrecognizable number. The sound of his voice sent shivers down my spine. He is the one person who will always send shivers down my spine.

Ed is the epitome of the phrase "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger."

Looking back, I know the entire relationship was doomed from the beginning. Again, I was young, and desperate to find a companion.

TB: Case Closed

So, the book of TB has officially closed. I knew there were things about him that were testing my patience, like his lack of communication efforts...but there were also many great things about him that made me excited, and rejuvenated my hopes in having a successful dating life.

In a way, I kind of feel like I was broken up with via a post-it, although in this case, it was via IM when I wasn't near my computer.

Tall Boy: I just closed our match on eHarmony. I don't think I am ready to date yet, and I just don't think we will get along that well in the long term. I haven't been very fair to you, and I think we could be good friends, but I just don't think we are right for each other. We can meet up somewhere to talk about it if you want, or give me a call tonight later on and we can talk about it too. Thanks for being so patient with me, and I'm sorry it didn't work out better.

The light I had seen at the end of the tunnel to find a good guy is now dark. I know the dating world is filled with highs and lows, but my highs haven't seemed too high, and my lows seem to be suffocating me. The new dating relationship I had experienced and it's out-right end hurts more than I expected it too. Hmph.