Here is something I wrote back when I first started to blog (April.. May.. not sure of the exact date I wrote this). This one never actually made it up onto the blog. I just though it was time to share.

I have a tendency to space off at work. Watching out the window wishing I was out there and not in here. This job is sucking the life out of me. I figured out about a year ago that I no longer like my job and want to leave. But the same crap keeps me here just like a lot of other people that keep jobs that they don't want. I have good benefits and am paid pretty well, I have also been working here for almost 10 years so I have lots of vacation time that I can use also. That is my excuse... I won't be able to make as much money if I change jobs and I will have to start over and won't have 4 weeks of vacation that I can use. I know, it's a pretty lame excuse, but it keeps me sitting here in this cubicle hoping and praying that someone will come save me from this insanity that some people call a career and that I call torture.

I am just a few months into 29 years old, divorced, and now 4 years into a relationship with Eric. Don't have any kids yet, however I have managed to acquire four cats (it's 3 cats now) and a dog. We live in this beautiful old house that was
Eric's Grandfathers. Beautiful is a relative term here though, the place still needs a lot of work, but it is a nice home. Two stories with 4 bedrooms and a basement, large attic, entry hall, living room, eat in kitchen and formal dining room that we turned into a library. Sounds pretty great I know, but for some reason it doesn't quite fit me. I'm pretty sure it's because it doesn't get enough sun light inside. We also have a really neat greenhouse in the back yard that is currently being used as storage but I hope to one day turn it into a studio for me to do art. The other really nice thing about this house is that there is no mortgage. The house has been in the family for so long that it was paid off some time ago so all we have are the utilities and taxes to pay. All in all it is a pretty great deal.

I also own a house in a neighboring town. The town I grew up in. I bought the house in 1999, two years before I got married. I just couldn't stand the thought of getting rid of the house after the divorce and after I moved in with Eric
so I rented it out to a friend of Eric's about a year ago. He only stayed for 6 months and never paid his last month in rent. Left the house in a bit of shambles also. Don't think I can go through that again. I've since then become ok with selling the place so I am going to fix it up and hopefully get it sold soon. It was really hard for me to finally make that decision but it was the only thing that made sense. I have been through so much with that house it is really hard to think that someday it won't belong to me anymore and it will be creating new memories with a new family.

So I suppose I should say something about the past 9 years or so... In 1999 I got this job, working in the Prepress Department of a publishing company. This job enabled me to buy my first house. Jeff, my boyfriend at the time, had not so good credit and I had none being so young, so we were unable to rent an apartment. So the next best thing to do was buy. I bought the house on my own, I decided it wasn't a good idea to put
Jeff's name on the house since we weren't married. It was a grand day when I bought that place, we had been living in his parents house for almost a year and my poor animals were tired of being cooped up in a small bedroom(as so was I).

So we moved in and began our life at that place we got to call home. Two years later we decided to get married. By then we had been together for 6 years and it only seemed right to make it official. I loved him dearly and never thought I could love anyone more than I loved him. We got married on February 10, 2001. While it was a cheap wedding it was quite beautiful. I decorated it to look like a winter wonderland and it just so happened to snow like crazy the night before the wedding so it all worked out for me. I was so happy that day. Finally marrying that beautiful man that I thought would make me happy for the rest of my life.

During that time my parents weren't doing so well. My mom had moved out of the house and was living with a friend. They had apparently been having problems for quite a while, though they were good at hiding it. My wedding was pretty hard on my father. He held me so tight when we danced I had to take very short breaths in order to not pass out. He told me to always remember my vows. If I get in hard times with Jeff
to always remember my vows.

Later that year, I'm sure no one can forget, the twin towers fell. I remember standing in my department here at work realizing what just happened. I don't remember any sounds, just silence. Looking out the windows facing West into the empty sky. It seemed to me that even the birds stopped flying that day. For a moment the whole world to me stood still, and just a second later it seemed like everything was then moving as though someone hit the fast forward button. All I could hear were people talking and peoples computers with the news on and radios talking about the planes. People leaving work to get their kids. I just sat down and was silent. I don't think I called anyone. I believe I might have received a phone call from my big brother and maybe my mother. I remember so badly wanting to call my dad. I just didn't know what to say. Ever since mom and dad split I didn't know how to talk to him. I could always just see and feel the sadness oozing off him. It seemed as if his pain choked me and I just couldn't speak. I wish I had called him, I should have called him.

Two months later, the Sunday after Thanksgiving my dad shot and killed himself. Even today, seven years later, it's still hard to believe he is gone. I still have bad days where I wish he was here because he was always the one to help me when I wasn't feeling good about something. He had the most perfect hugs that made all the pain go way. It still hurts me that he won't be here to see his grandchildren. Or to see us kids grow up and become whoever we become as we get older. He wasn't here to see his youngest son graduate from high school. Or to mentor him with his welding. Today the only things I have left of him are his tools and my memories of him. I remember sitting on my couch when my mom told us what happened. Both my brothers, Jeff
and I were at my house when it finally came out. I remember crying only because I knew that is what people expected of me. To fall apart and cry. I really just wanted to get up and go for a walk and be silent. I think I already knew he was gone by the time mom told us what was going on. I think of my older brother Jason who was outside our family house when it happened. How he kept his composure through that and later fell apart in my arms after the funeral. I only cried hard in front of other people a few times. The only time I let myself succumb to the pain of his death was when I was alone in my house. I never really let anyone see how badly he hurt me. Many nights alone by myself I sat in the middle of my living room floor screaming at him and asking him why. Crying and in so much pain from him doing this to our family but loving him so much that I could never hate him. I would sob until my body was sore and my face was raw from wiping away the tears and snot. My shirt and pants would be soaked. Finally exhausted so much that I couldn't cry anymore I would get up and take a shower and go to bed.

I think that watching my parents marriage fall apart it made me look a little closer to what was going on in my marriage. I felt that after the first year things just started to fall apart. It seemed that
Jeff's friends became more important to him than me, and that what he wanted was more important than what was better for us. Perhaps I was being selfish but don't we all have to be at some point? To me the marriage just wasn't that anymore, it was more like a roommate that happened to sleep in the same bed. He would go to work on Saturday and come home pack up and head to Lawrence and sometimes not come back till Monday. I just started to feel so alone. I began to cling to his brother Ick (his real name is Eric.. but since there are two Erics in this story I am going to refer to Jeff's brother by his nickname Ick), and his friends. Everyday Ick and friends would show up at my house and we would all hang out, or go over to Ick's house and play cards or just sit around and talk and smoke. Every Tuesday we would go out to a bar and drink till 3am and it just seemed like Jeff really didn't care. Jeff would spend his evenings in the office playing on the computer. He seemed to engulf himself with his on-line computer games and his role-playing games that he played in Lawrence with his friends. I can remember days that he would come home from work and I would ask how his day went and he just didn't want to talk about it. But he loved talking about his video games or role-playing games. It was always about "if I could just get this many more dexterity points or if I could only do this one thing then I'd have this cool new power". I was just so over it.

So I decided to end my marriage in 2004. It just seemed unfair to me to try and make
Jeff be something he obviously didn't want to be, or unfair to me to keep living my married life feeling so alone. I remember the night when I finally told him. We were both in bed and I think I might have been crying. I suddenly felt this huge weight fall on my chest. It felt like I sunk down in the bed a few inches because of this weight I knew at that time that I had to tell him it was over. I sat up and just said it. It was weird how calm everything was that night. I remember something about Jeff saying that the house was of course mine and that he would like to keep the Jeep. The next morning he left the house with a few of his things and stayed at a friends. The rest was an emotional blur. Me and him crying and yelling in the living room. Packing up his things. I felt like a failure. I had failed Jeff, failed at marriage and failed my father. I loved Jeff so much still but I just couldn't go on feeling that way and it seemed that I couldn't get how I was feeling through no matter how I put it to him that I finally gave up. Even to this day I sometimes wonder if I should have done things differently.

Jeff and I still talk on occasion. He has now moved out to Las Vegas and seems to be pretty happy out there. I think about him all the time, hoping that he is doing well and taking care of himself. I do miss my friend, probably more than he realizes. He called me about 2 years after we split and got a divorce to tell me that he realizes what happened. That he understood my frustration and that he was sorry. I'm glad that we can still talk and be friends.

Now I have Eric. I met Eric
through Jeff actually. I think I was 17 when I first met him when Jeff took me to his friends house. They may have been playing role-playing games or table-top games, I can't remember. I was so shy back then but I do remember him. I was sitting on the couch when he walked in. I think we both said hi to each other before he went downstairs. I always thought he was an interesting guy. I really didn't get to know him until things started falling apart in my marriage years later.

Eric started hanging out with Ick and I after he was in a car accident and wasn't able to drive or work for 6 months. So Ick and I would go pick him up and bring him back to my house or Ick's house and we would all hang out. If it was the weekend we all (the whole group of friends) might stay the night at Ick's house and hang out all weekend. Everyone saw the problems in my marriage. Even Ick, Jeff's brother, saw it. We would invite Jeff over with us and he would rather stay home. Or he would go home on the weekend and I would stay there. It all just didn't fit.

After I ended it with
Jeff it seemed everyone disappeared. No one called, or wanted to hang out anymore. Granted I do understand why. Ick was Jeff's brother. It just didn't make since for him to hang out with me anymore. The only person that would call me to go out or just hang out and talk was Eric. We still went out on Tuesday nights to see a friend play at a local bar, or go out to a local Irish Pub to see another friend play. Then one day our friendship turned into something more. We were sitting on my couch watching Master and Commander, he looked over at me with this look that I don't think I can explain...longing, loving something along those lines, and then it was over. We were stuck together like bees on honey, and have been ever since.

We have now been together for almost 4 years, and I am trying my best to hold on to it with all my might.


nothing to write about

I have nothing much to write about. Mostly because everything that is going on right now I can't write about... for fear of getting fired perhaps. Most of my frustrations and things happening right now are work related. Of course then there is the I'm BROKE!! problem which is totally irritating. Can't even pay a couple of bills this month... well they will just be late.. but it still sucks! I just wish I had everything under control again.. feels a bit chaotic lately (But my kitchen is clean!)

Sigh.. ok.. off to work. Maybe next month I'll have something fun to write about.


Spring Cleaning..

.. at the end of Summer! WTF! So the bug has hit.. even if it was late. Eric and I have been cleaning up the house. We got a 20' dumpster a week ago and today finally got it filled up. Though it didn't take us that long. We really didn't get to work on it much during the week.

Today we went through the attic. It is so much nicer up there now. We keep talking about maybe finishing the attic space so we will have another room. Some insulation and some drywall.. that would make it a very neat place! Might turn it into a craft room or maybe even the office. Who knows..

Now we need to finish the basement and then I think we will be done. We have just under half of the basement left to go through. Then.. Just then might we able to actually finish moving into this place!! I still have boxes that I haven't unpacked up in the attic and we haven't been able to spread out in the basement because of all the "junk" that was grandpas that we are just now getting out. Soon I will have a craft space downstairs.

I have a small wooden model boat that I want to put together but I need a place that I can sand it and that would make too much dust in any other room in this house. I also still have a model car and a carousel that I need to put together. Maybe the I'll also start drawing again.. I miss drawing or any forms of art really. But right now I don't have any space to do it.

This week I have to get over to the Raytown house also. We keep talking about fixing it up to sell. But my cousin called and asked about renting it so hopefully he will and will help me do some of the repairs around that place. It would take some of the financial burden and some of the physical pain off me also! So everyone keep their fingers crossed for me that he rents the place, or that I get it all ready and cleaned up to sell.

Ok.. that was my rambling for today.. it is now 2:35 am and I need to sleep so I can get up and work my ass off again. Catcha later!


fresh ink.

So this Friday, on a whim I went out to a local tattoo parlor. A few friends suggested this place anytime I mentioned wanting another tattoo. So I grabbed up my pictures and dragged Eric out with me to Mercy Seat. I really wasn't sure if I would be able to get in on a Friday to get it done but thought I'd at least check it out and set up a time to come back. So Eric and I get there and start talking to a few guys. And lo and behold they could get me in right then. Now this was not my first tattoo. My first tattoo was the rose my dad drew up and had a tattoo of on his chest. I found the original drawing after he died and had them lay the rose down on my lower back. Some call this a tramp stamp but I would like to make it known that mine is not such a thing. First off this is not an fairy, butterfly or tribal... and above all mine has a very significant meaning behind it and sentimental value. This lovely blue rose took all of 3 and a half hours to complete with no breaks in between. It was painful but totally worth it. My second tattoo is on my right wrist and it is of a Celtic knot. It is a very simple maybe even fairly common version of a Celtic knot. Got it as a shout out to my lovely Celtic roots as my maiden name is Welsh. Now I remember these hurting. The one on my wrist wasn't so bad. But I remember the one on my back hurting.. and feeling like a bad sunburn by the time I got home right after it was complete. I remember completely stripping down when I got home that evening because it felt so hot. As soon as I walked into the door I took off my shirt pants and underwear and laid on the couch while my husband fanned my shiny sore buttocks. Now I thought I knew what to expect with this new tattoo. So as I sit there and this kind stranger pokes me thousands of times with tiny needles I think this is not too bad. I can take this. Breath in breath out.. breath in breath out.. It was nice that Eric was there.. he would be talking which helped distract me from what was being done to my back. So about an hour goes by and he is done with the black. (Sigh of relief). So I get up and take a look at it. It is looking great! One of my favorite parts of getting tattoos is when they wet down paper towels and clean off the newly tattooed area. Remember me talking about bad sunburns.. well think how a nice cold wet cloth on that area would feel.. totally wonderful! So Jason (oh that is the tattoo artist) decides he wants to take a smoke break at this point. I'm fine with that, really doesn't bother me at all. He gets back and we get to coloring. Now here comes the pain. I don't remember the other one on my back hurting this much.. Holy Freaking OUCH!! This shit hurts!! there are areas real close to my arm pit and damn that is tender! But that didn't compare to the pain I felt when he was right on the edge of my shoulder blade toward the center of my back!! I would have to shut my eyes because it hurt so bad I'd start blinking non stop.. it was just easier to shut my eyes. Focus.. Breath in breath out.. Two and a half hours later we are done.. and my back hurts.. my armpit hurts.. my legs freaking hurt!! WTF! My neck hurts. My jaws hurt.. Oh I chewed a lot of gum also, another thing to try to keep my mind focused on other things. Seems that the older you get the more these things hurt! Which really kinda sucks.. I have about 4 more tattoos already picked out! Guess I better start saving my money so I can get them done quickly. Think from now on the tattoos will either be smaller or I'll start having to do the black and the color in separate seating's. Here is the original picture I took in.
I had them add pink because that is pretty standard with magnolias and it is virtually impossible to have a completely white tattoo. It turned out beautiful. The line work is really great! It's not what I imagined but I absolutely love how it came out. Needless to say I will be going back to Mercy Seat to see Jason Saint again.

Here is my new tattoo.

** On a side note.. I met an old high school classmate while there. Jim.. it was good to see and talk to you again!