A funny thing, this writing ...

Some days I think, "this would make an awesome blog post" something like ten times.  Other days I think, "meh." 

Today was "awesome blog post" day. 

Yes, this is a view from outside my office, today.  February 28, 2011 at approximately 2:25 p.m., I took this photo with my Blackberry. 

I only wish the smell had come through, as the freesia (the purple flowers) were simply intoxicating in their fragrance.  It is 83ish degrees here, light breeze, sunshine, no clouds, simply brilliant blue skies.

It is days like this that I am profoundly thankful for my moment of clarity two years ago, when I knew it was time to move, time to start over, time to spring forth with my own blossoms. 

The reflection pond at work, with its many koi and one single blossoming waterlilly.

The phrase "bloom where you are planted" resonates with me, as I know from my own experience in gardening and planting bulbs that each bulb, despite coming from the same lineage, same garden plot and same bulb distributor, reacts differently when put into the soil.  All can be planted in the same soil, with the same watering schedule and same amount of sunlight or shade and some bloom, some double their foliage in size and some die.    

I blossomed here.  I found my own way, found the direction to take in my own life, both personally and professionally.  I learned that I am my own biggest cheerleader. 

But most of all ... I found my sense of peace.  My happiness, long lost, was found.  My attitude now?  I think this license plate says it all ...

6 Word Fridays: Well

I'm trying my hand again at 6 Word Fridays ... thanks Melissa, as ever, for your inspiration.

WELL. Be well. Well, well, well.

http://www.makingthingsup.com/


Well is a word that reminds

me of "fine" and "fine" isn't

so very "fine" but an excuse

to answer a question meant to

ascertain your state of wellbeing or

my state of wellbeing, but really

"well" is something that can be

endless -- such as the bottom of

a well seems bottomless in its

depth.  Well is also a pause

when I don't know what to

say.  When I'm confused as to

what I should say next, if

anything at all.  Well is what

I feel when I am not ill.

Well is how I described myself

after the divorce, when I was

not fine, or well, or anything

at all.  My life felt like

a bottomless well of confusion of

my own making.  Now I use

"well" to describe a pit of water

for drinking, but not my feelings.

I am better than "well," I am

Magnificent, Supendous, Excited, Enamoured, Thrilled, Lucky

But not "well" -- I never want

to be "well" ever again, ever.  

Another addition to the blogroll ...

Without further ado, please welcome Jamie to the blogroll.

http://thepromise365.com/

Jamie and I went to Cottey together and were classmates.  From reading her blog this year, I've gotten to know more about her and must say she is an inspiration.

Keep your promise Jamie.  I'm proud to know you and even more excited to learn from you.

Reflections on dating a guy with kids

In my first marriage to Hex, I had a stepson.  I met him when he was 5 and I left when he was 10.  There were good days, meh days and horrible days.  One of those horrible days led me to counseling and to a realization that this is *my life* and if I am unhappy, it is *I* that must change it.  Change it I did, as I sought a divorce a year later.  Since that time it has been a roller coaster of emotion about the marriage, my role as a stepmom and how I could have changed things somehow.  No, dear Readers, I don't beat myself up about that, but I've always held that one who doesn't wonder "what if" doesn't wonder much at all.

Since the divorce was final, I dated one guy with a child (D9).  The rest were all kid-free, as I am.  As D9 and I have remained friends (he was quite a bit like the Hex, a good reason why we shouldn't have stayed dating), it isn't as though I was opposed to dating someone with children, it just wasn't something I pursued either.

As I've known Hoosier Guy a long time, I knew he had kiddos -- two boys.  OldestKid is 16, YoungestKid is 11.  The original plan (yes, I know best laid plans and all that) was that I would meet them this summer, as things in the divorce settled down and finalized and as I was relocating to parts as yet unknown.  Basically, the idea was to allow the kids to adjust to their parents divorce and to adjust to their Dad dating someone else. Hoosier Guy had answered questions about me (e.g. he was dating someone). Seems simple, right?

Sure it does.

Add in some cra-cra, and needless to say the kids had seen pictures of me (Facebook stalking is a high art) and heard all about me -- from someone (their mom) who doesn't know me, has never met me and who, prior to all this, couldn't have picked me out of a crowd of two.  Needless to say, the portrayal of me has been less than flattering but meh.  Whatever.

All of this is neither here nor there, as life is sometimes messy and divorce certainly can be.  This weekend, however, I met the boys.

I wasn't planning on meeting them -- I was gung-ho for the initial plan of summertime introductions.  Again with the "add cra-cra," and wa-la, I meet them both.

Some general observations -- both kids are nice, pleasant, mannerly and clearly love their father very much, as he loves them very much.   It is clear that they were shook up by this weekend's events, as they both looked absolutely shell-shocked when I met them. 

On the flip side of that?  I introduced myself to them and they were pleasant and nice.  Even in the face of a very dark hour of their lives, they were pleasant to me. 

As they arrived with very little, it was apparent that socks and underwear were required garments for an overnight stay.  We all got ready to go and I offered to stay home, to allow them "boy time" to talk to their Dad about the day and the events that led up to their arrival at their Dad's home.  Both boys insisted I go with them to Wal-Mart -- as did HG -- but it was their insistence that was most compelling to me.

1. They don't know me.  What they do know about me isn't what I would call flattering.

2. They have just been through an emotional wringer.

3. They remain pleasant and courteous. 

4. It is clear that they love being with their Dad.

5. It is clear they want to know more about me -- and form their own opinions.

We had a nice weekend, it was great to meet them and get to know them a bit.  They are great kids, just as Hoosier Guy had told me.  I don't know a damn thing about teenage boys, but I'm sure gonna learn.

Nice kids?  Almost too much for me to have wished for.  Wow.

Weekend Events (cue "Days of Our Lives" theme song, please)

This weekend was supposed to be a normal, average weekend in the life of me.  Typically, Hoosier Guy would have come to Florida this weekend but there was this silly little car race at some little coastal beach town (Daytona) which apparently meant it was $600 to get to Florida from Chicago but only $200 to get to Chicago from Florida.  Yeah, simple economics won out, he paid for the ticket and I flew north.

The weekend plans were simple.  A drive to Wisconsin on Friday afternoon for beer (Spotted Cow!) and brats, then return to Indiana for dinner with friends.  Saturday night was dinner with Mom and Stepdad and Sunday morning was scheduled with brunch invitations to Tippecanoe with his Mom and two cousins.  Return back to Florida on Sunday afternoon and be ready for work on Monday morning.  Pretty laid back, no?

Things were right on schedule through Saturday night about 8:30 p.m. when the proverbial shit hit the fan.  While I really don't feel that it is my place to tell the story, let me say that I was able to meet his kids earlier than expected (we were thinking summer introductions) and police were called on multiple occasions due to his ex's level of cra-cra. 

On the second occasion of police-calling, it was the exchange between HG's ex and HG that shook me to my core.  It's a funny thing, childhood stuff, and sometimes it pops up even when you are fairly sure all of that has been "handled" in the past.  Hearing her yell and scream at HG, with his quiet, pleasant and rational voice responding reminded me of more than a few fights I'd witnessed with my own parents, neigh on 25 years ago.  Later that night, as HG and I lay in bed, I (literally) cried on his shoulder as I told him about how that fight had brought back memories to me.  HG was, as always, kind and loving, ever apologetic that I should have to hear what had happened. 

I could empathize with OldestKid and YoungestKid in ways that were entirely unexpected.  In my situation, my Mom was the rational and sane one, whilst my Dad was irrational, unpleasant and scary.  In theirs -- the reverse is true. 

They are back with their Mom now, as the law on custody must prevail, despite the children's wishes to be with Hoosier Guy.  I pray for their safety, security and sanity while this weekend's mess gets worked out. 

As for me, well, it was a tough weekend.  It sounds awfully self-serving for me to reflect on how this has affected me, but I will say this weekend's events dredged up a minefield of childhood memories that I would have rather stayed buried.  Remembering my own parents' fights and knowing exactly how I behaved with my own sister when it was hitting the fan, it all was right back in my consciousness and present day after events of this weekend.  The one thing that saved me was the fact that Hoosier Guy behaved as my Mom did back then, with pleasant and rational voice and didn't take the bait to escalate the whole mess further from his ex. 

***************
Today's journey back to Florida (my flight was delayed yesterday and I was allowed to change for no fee, so change to today I did) was one of reflection.  It is on this flight I came to a conclusion about Hoosier Guy and I -- it is like we are two ends of a bungee cord.  Always connected, although sometimes stretched tightly, we remain together, tied to one another happily, working best as a team towards the lives and tasks ahead of us. 

News from Indiana ... Discrimination Passes House.

http://www.in.gov/apps/lsa/session/billwatch/billinfo?year=2011&session=1&request=getBill&docno=0006&doctype=HJR
DIGEST OF HJ0006 (Updated February 15, 2011 5:51 pm - DI 84)

Marriage. Provides that only marriage between one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as a marriage in Indiana. Provides that a legal status identical or substantially similar to that of marriage for unmarried individuals shall not be valid or recognized. This proposed amendment has not been previously agreed to by a general assembly.
 
http://www.masson.us/blog/?p=7169
 
A little hat tip to Doug Masson -- the blogger above -- on his comments on this subject. 

I've always found the phrases "sanctity of marriage" and "protection of marriage" to be snort-worthy.  In my 37 years on this earth, I've been exposed to a number of marriages, not the least of which being my own (former) marriage.  Now the State of Indiana, my great homestate, by and through its State House of Representatives, has passed HJR-6.  HJR-6, for those that don't know, is a bill recommending an Indiana Constitutional Amendment to define marriage as only between one man and one woman. 

Let's break this down.

Say I want to get married in the State of Indiana to a guy or, for that matter, to many different men over a number of years.  I can do that, damn near limitlessly, save the court filing fees and lawyer fees for subsequent divorces and remarriages.  My gay friends?  Oh No.  That action of taking a husband (or wife) to a husband (or wife) would be constitutionally outlawed thanks to this year's Indiana State legislature. 

Sanctity of marriage?  Really?  So my marriage (and subsequent divorce) didn't harm marriage for all Hoosiers, but apparently two men (or two women) pledging to spend their lives together harmoniously would do so.   I would laugh uproariously if this were only a joke -- if this were not truly an act of a State legislature, a state to which I hold near and dear.

I do not understand what forces compel those in my former state legislature to want to discriminate, publicly and constitutionally, against people they are paid to represent. 

To say this breaks my heart is true.  It also reminds me that no matter how far I think we (as a Nation) have come in accepting those whose sexual orientation is different than ourselves, there are always those that will never accept what is true, real and present.

My fellow Hoosiers, I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that the state legislature is working to enact discriminatory legislation so that marriage can be "saved."  

My friends, let this day not pass without me saying this: Shame On You, those legislators voting for this amendment.

Lucky, Lucky Me.

Yesterday was hell.  At one point, I texted Sister with the following:

"I work with morons.  That is all."

Needless to say, she laughed her fool head off then called me after work to see if I was okay.  Once I explained it to her, she laughed harder. 

Yeah, some days my job is just a barrel of laughs (smirk).

Then Hoosier Guy gave me some perspective as well and pretty soon I was laughing again. 

I'm lucky -- so very lucky -- to have family, friends and my boy to make me laugh even when times are, at best, difficult.

Thanks Sister.  Thanks Hoosier Guy.  Thanks friends.  You make me the luckiest girl on the planet.

Relief, sweet relief.

A few weeks ago I had a crisis in my grad school application process: one of my "recommenders" dropped out.  He was a former professor of mine in grad school and I took three of his classes, far more than any other professor I had at the time.  In addition, it seemed that my grad school was in transition, with lots of comings/goings and retirements about that time, so he was the only logical choice.

And then he really didn't remember me, seeing as it has been 11 years since I've graced grad school with my presence. The problem with this?  He said he would do the letters, then said he didn't remember me, well after my apps were in to the various grad schools. 

At the last moment, I had to change him out and replace him with a former boss. 

Then another crisis -- another recommender had work issues (which I knew were plentiful) and just finished the letters this weekend. 

This roller-coaster ride of grad school admissions has had me up and down and loop-the-loop more times than I can count.  It is relief, sweet sweet relief that now all the recommendations are in and I can just relax a bit, waiting for grad school notifications in a month.  It is with sincerest hope that because of all these recommendation snafus my application was not relegated to the "no" pile, but that remains to be seen. 

I just want to know where I am going.

Bloomington?
Chicago?
DC?
Portland?

Where .... indeed.

Thoughts from C.S. Lewis

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

-- C.S. Lewis

A month from now ...

A month from now ... I know who has accepted me into their Ph.D. program

A month from now ... I can make plans for my move to __________.

A month from now ... I can revisit just how much furniture I want to move.

A month from now ... I can begin the countdown until I am finished in Florida.

A month from now ... I can know whether Hoosier Guy and I will be geographically close for the next four years.

A month from now ... I will know, definitely, what, where, why and when I will be pursuing my degree. 

A month from now ... seems so close ... and so very far away.

6 word Fridays: Seconds

http://www.makingthingsup.com/

6 word Fridays are a creative exercise done by the blogger above ... she encourages others to do the same. This week is Seconds. "You’re up: SECONDS. Second choices, second chances. Secondhand. This second. In six words."


I found the blogger above through another blogger, http://www.postcardsfromapeacefuldivorce.com/ and love the concept. 

As I'm always up for creative thought and enterprise, I thought I'd give this a whirl.

Second love is the sweetest love.
Second chance at love = lucky me.
Counting seconds until his arrival here
Second thoughts -- I have none whatsoever.
Slowest seconds? Just before the kiss.
Fastest seconds? When we are together.
When we cook - those magical seconds
There are never enough seconds together.

Cupid's Got A Piss-Poor Aim Party (a reflection on Valentine's Days gone by)

Back in my 20s, I'd been through what I considered dating hell.  Now, of course, I know better, as dating hell is only a precursor to marriage hell, divorce hell and post-divorce dating hell.  Dating hell is the pre-school of hell, with marriage being high school graduation hell, divorce hell being college level hell and post-divorce dating hell being graduate level hell, but I digress.

Back in that time in my life, I had (as I do now) a great group of friends.  Most of us wore the battle scars of relationships gone bad, not to mention a general dismay over a certain day in mid-February called Valentine's Day.  It seemed almost appropos that we were consistently single on that day, and the "happy couples" around us would make us all want to barf, repeatedly, like a frat boy after ten twenty keg stands.

At the time in which this started, I had a cute little house in Irvington that was great for hosting parties.  I was tired of being single, tired of thinking about being single and tired of hearing all my friends whine about being single.  What is a girl to do?

Host a party.

Thus, the "Cupid's Got A Piss-Poor Aim" party was started.  I would make everything - salad to dessert - and the guests would be asked to bring a bottle of wine to share.  Needless to say, since we were in our twenties and not quite yet worn off the college tolerance levels and young urban sophisticates, the norm was two bottles of wine per person.

All of this is to say that I would often have overnight houseguests after these parties.  This was no big deal, I had three bedrooms and a pull-out couch, not to mention lots of floor space, to accommodate those (all of us) who had overindulged the night before.

Thinking back to those parties never fails to make me laugh, as we would all have big fun telling tales of dates gone wrong, life in general and jokes.  It was, as ever, a great time.  I miss hosting them still.

I still think back to the one I hosted -- might have been the last one -- whereas I invited the guy I had gone out with a few times.  I had gone out to lunch that day and ended up with food poisoning -- during dinner.  What I have not mentioned is that the guy I had gone out with a few times had apparently taken it upon himself to date the girl in the office next to me, who was also invited to the party.  Hi-larity ensued.  He was shown the curb by both of us the very next day.  He actually thought bwahahahahahahaha that the reason I was sick was because I was "so upset about finding out he was dating K too."  Definitely a classic for the ages.

Ah, cupid, so glad you've developed a better aim these days.

Blog-o-versary -- belated, of course.

On January 13, I entered my fourth (4th?!?!) year of blogging here, discussing random bits of nonsense for your amusement, pleasure, disgust or pain.  Hey, I kinda know who reads this thing, but I don't know everyone, so as always, welcome, glad you are here, take a seat, stay awhile, and please use a coaster.  Yeah, I hate cleaning the rings off the furniture.

So much stuff has happened since 2008.  I was re-reading some of the posts from back then the other day and one thing hit me square in the face: I've changed.

Yes, I know we all realize at one point or another that we've changed and that change is good, bad or indifferent, but truly, I've found strength I didn't know I had back then.

Since January 2008 I have:

*sold the condo I bought in March 2007
*changed jobs
*moved to Florida
*applied to grad school for my Ph.D. in public administration
*dated a ridiculous number of men that no longer matter
*dated one man who did (and does) matter
*made new friends
*realized that this is MY LIFE and MY TIME and I am the sole governor of both of those things

and many many many other things that bear no rehashing here. 

I suppose it all comes down to the basics: I am happy.

Happy Belated Blog-o-versary.  Somebody pass me a glass of wine ...

Need a little PEACE PEACE PEACE ...

So much on my mind ... thank God for yoga or I'd go batty.

As Seen In the Flea Market

Every time I am at the flea market I see something so incredible, so mind-bending and so utterly inexplicable that I take a picture. 

Thus:

Yes, boys and girls, just what you've always wanted: A Battery Operated Gun.  Note, if you will, the tag line: "GIVE CHILDREN THE BEST GIFTS."

WTF IS this thing anyway?  A propaganda piece for the NRA?  An evil Chinese toy menace? It was $3 at the flea market, at the "dollar" store, which roughly translated means "everything costs a derivation of a dollar, some one, some five, some three, some two for a dollar."

I saw this in the bin and HAD to take a picture of it.  HAD to.  I mean, really,  if you see a toy gun labeled "give children the best gifts," wouldn't you have to take a picture of it too?

Flea Markets are an endless supply of stuff you may want, coupled with stuff you can't imagine anyone buying and stuff that defies all explanation.  This jewel was found at "Fleamasters" in Fort Myers, which is 400,000 square feet and 900 stores worth of flea market hell, er, bliss.