Sad Song of the Day: "The Moon" by The Swell Season

Messages in Dreams

Andrew has been dead for almost 3 weeks now.  For some reason I have been expecting to see him.  Not sure what I was expecting, but I was disappointed that I hadn't dreamt about him yet.  Perhaps since he left the way he did, I wanted him to tell me something I didn't know.  Yes, I received that final text and it did tell me that he loved me--finally.  That isn't enough.  I want to be able to feel him and touch and him and talk to him.  This death experience has been foul for me.  The fact he is not on this Earth anymore still befuddles me and I'm not sure I accept it yet.  He must be in limbo.  His was not a natural death and he must be waiting for open ends to be resolved before passing wherever he needs to go.  Or is that only in the movies?  Where someone like Ricky Gervais can see the dead and they want him to resolve things left open in life--they hound him until he does.  Is that only fiction?  Because I sure as hell want to see him!

I finally got my wish.  No, I didn't see him standing ghostlike in my hallway or something.  The other night I went to sleep dead tired, as always, and unable to sleep.  It's like my head is so restless, but the rest of me just wants to sleep for days.  It's been like this since he died unless I have been on medications.  Terrible insonmia like nothing else.  I went into bed holding onto the legs of the Andrew Bear.  Andrew Bear is a TY stuffed bear who is made of that micro plush material that is softer than silk.  His true name is Patriotic and he reminds me somehow of Andrew and the kids and I needed something to soothe our desire to have him tangibly around us.  I am the one who tends to sleep with it.  I lied there desperately hoping for sleep.  I could hear the television from Sebastian in the living room.  I turned to the other side and slipped into a state of sleep and awakeness.  During this time, which didn't quite seem wholely like a dream or wholely reality, I experience Andrew and I sitting at the computer I am on now.  My mom was directly across from the bar in the living room where she could only see our heads popping over.  He was sitting on the barstool and I was somehow kneeling down next to him and typing something up on the computer.  I have no idea what we were looking up, but we were goofing off with each other.  He was trying to put his hand down my pants and I was coyly telling him that my mom could hear us.  He didn't care and neither did I, truly.  So, I started teasing him back by rubbing on his crotch.  This whole incident is something reminiscent of an incident with Bryan actually, which is rather stumping me. 

Then, Andrew leans down to whisper in my ear as I kiss his neck.  He says, "Why would we waste time doing any of this when we have the capability to enjoy each other with talking and listening?  Then I heard those three words that I craved for years:  I love you.  I didn't get him to say he loved me until the last thing he said to me before he put a gun to his head.  How is that fucking fair?  And then I found out from the girlfriend he had the whole time we were apart that he truly loved me and I had his heart.  Now he is dead and these are things I never knew.  So, I literally woke up, semi awake anyway, in tears.  I have never cried while dreaming, but I woke up with the pain of heartbreak.  I ached for him and those words and some innocent moment like that with him again.  When I figured out what was going on, I lied there for ten minutes and cried hysterically.  I could not control it.  I could still hear the television in the living room.  I don't even think I'd been to sleep for a minute--I have no concept of the time.  I don't know what state I was in.  All I know is that I finally had a dream with Andrew.  That was all I wanted.  And, he told me he loved me again and in the flesh, the way he should have so many years before.

All I want more than anything is to have an hour more with him.  One more conversation.  To touch his face.  Hold his hand.  Look into the saddest green eyes I had ever seen.  Lay next to him in the bed we shared.  No minutes goes by in which I don't think of him.  Even in sleep.  I will never get over this until my life, as well, has ended.  I will go to the grave with this man on my mind.  Someday, however, I know we will be reunited.  I don't know how, but I know we are soul mates.  It wasn't this life, so it will be the next or maybe the next.  I just know deep in my soul that Andrew William Marrari was the other half of my being--the twin to my flame.  We will ignite again!

I love you, Andrew William Marrari!

RIP Andrew William Marrari

The only words I have right now are that I am angry at Andrew for leaving me.  Speechless . . .

Most Passionate Words Written for Another

So, I've decided to write up an article about passionate lyrics.  I've recently made a playlist on iTunes (which I do quite often to remind me of periods in my life) and on it I've included some of the most beautifully written songs.  I'm focusing more on lyrics, though the music, of course, makes or breaks a song.  These songs encompass all genres and I'm asking others on Twitter and Facebook to tell me what they would chose and why.  I guess the whole idea is that everyone wants something written about them.  But the passion involved in these songs makes you feel the love and desire and lust that was involved in the moment of writing the song.  Doesn't every woman want to be a muse?  I know whenever I've written a poem about someone (though I rarely tell them or let them read it), they have been beyond touched and flattered.  But these go beyond poetry and songwriting--these can make you weep or ache or touch yourself or want something more in your life.

Here are a few of my favorites:

A Hundred Kisses by She Wants Revenge

Shake off the rain and dry off


And come inside tonight

You don't have to be alone

You don't have to be, love

You've got the prettiest face that I ever did see

With eyes so sad

Like songs I swear I've known



And I hope to God that you're not pretending

Cause if you are I swear I don't know

What I'm gonna do



But I promise you that I'll be good to you

If you promise that you'll try to love me too

Somehow



(Chorus)

I'd steal a hundred kisses

Before you'd say goodbye

And then make a hundred wishes

In the name of you and I

Cause what we have is secret

So don't let no one know

The past can't come between us if we both just let it go

Today's the perfect day

Today's the day I tell you, oh

If you ever walk away

Then I would die right there for you



Give me your every breath and promise me your world

I don't ask for much at all

All I want is all you've got

Could you be that girl

Are you thinking of me

Or have I projected all of my hopes on you



And I know there'll be nights filled with tears

I know that there'll be fights and fears

But that's a part of it too



So do you think I have the slightest chance to be

Everything to you

Cause you mean everything to me



(Chorus)I'd steal a hundred kisses

Before you'd say goodbye

And then make a hundred wishes

In the name of you and I

Cause what we have is secret

So don't let no one know

The past can't come between us if we both just let it go

Today's the perfect day

Today's the day I tell you, oh

If you ever walk away

Then I would die right there for you

For you


Crack the Shutters by Snow Patrol

You cool your bed-warm hands down on the broken radiator,


And when you lay them freezing on me, I mumble "can you wake me later?"

But I don't really want you to stop and you know it so it doesn't stop you

And run your hands from my neck to my chest

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day

And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body

I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute

Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you


It's been minutes, it's been days, it's been all I will remember

Happy lost in your hair and the cold side of the pillow

Your hills and valleys are mapped by my intrepid fingers

And in a naked slumber, I dream all this again


Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day

And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body

I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute

Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you
Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day

And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body

I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute

Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you
 
Golden Floor by Snow Patrol
 
Tell me that you want to dance


I want to feel your pulse on mine

Just treat me like a stolen glance

To yourself

A dark shape on a golden floor

A sleeping planet with a molten core

From above we'd cut a slow eight shape

And much more


I'm a peasant in your princess arms

Penniless with only charm

As we're leveled by the low, hot lights

And disarmed


I'm not afraid of anything even time

It'll eke away at everything but we'll be fine


I'm folded in the bread you made

You're cold until my body bathes

You in the heat I kept aside

All these days


I'm not afraid of anything even time

It'll eke away at everything but we'll be fine

Fix You by Coldplay

When you try your best but you don't succeed


When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse.


And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?


Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you


And high up above earth or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try you'll never know

Just what you're worth


Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you


Tears stream, down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face and I...


Tears stream, down your face

I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down your face and I...


Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you.

Pace is the Trick by Interpol

You can't hold it too tight


These matters of security

You don't have to be wound so tight

Smoking on the balcony


Well it's like sleaze in the park

You women, you have no self-control

We angels remark outside

You are known for insatiable needs

But I don't know a thing


I've seen love

And I follow the speed in the starlight

I've seen love

And I follow the speed in the star-swept night


Yeah, pace is the trick

And to all the corruption in man...


I see you as you take your pride, my lioness

Your defenses seem wise, I cannot press

And attention's at demise, my lioness

Can't you hurt it some, I think I hurt it


I've seen love

I follow the speed in the starlight

I've seen love

And I follow the speed in the star-swept night

And now I select you

Slow now I let you see how I stun

Now I select you

Slow now I bet you see how I stun


To all the destruction in man...

And to all the corruption in my hand...


And now I select you

Slow now, I let you see how I stun

Now I select you

Slow now, I bet you see how I stun

Now I select you

Slow now, I let you see how i stun

Now I select you

Slow now, I let you

I always follow the speed in the star-swept night


...you don't hold a candle

Little Things Make All the Difference

All it took was a simple phone call to make me happy.  I am that easy to please, apparently.  But, I now have a smile on my face and I feel tons better.  That's all I'm asking for . . .

Song of the Day

When Sadness Arrives

I am just sad. I can explain in so many words, but not really. The one person I would like to understand, can't, or at least doesn't want to try. It is so hard to be a caring person and be with someone who is the opposite end of the spectrum when it comes to emotions. It isn't that he doesn't care, he just shows it in different ways that I don't always understand. I have given myself to him, but I feel I am constantly attacked for the way I am. I am asked to change, when he refuses to change himself. I don't want him to change who he is as a person, but some of his actions. You can change WHAT you do versus WHO you are. That doesn't seem to be grasped by him. And at this point, I do not know what to do.

We apparently cannot have in person discussions because he avoids them. Everything we discuss, which has become less and less over the past few weeks, is via text message. There is no tone there. There is no feeling. And I think that is the way he likes it. No emotion in the voice. No body language that can be felt. What can I do?

I am at my wit's end. I can't get through to him. He is unwilling to talk things out. And I am about to burst. I cried myself to sleep once again and have no outlet other than this damn thing, which I have seemed to bring back to life out of the frustration of my relationship.



If I can't talk to him about things, it is futile. The past 4 months has just been a waste for us both. I don't want to walk away: I love him. I don't take that lightly. When I care that deeply for someone, I can't just throw in the proverbial towel and walk away. It is rare that I can feel that way about someone. I've been so torn down over the past few years that my heart is closed off. This is the first time I've allowed it to open in a very long time. I am comfortable with him. He can be amazing. I can see a future with him. But we are just at this impasse that doesn't seem to work its way open. And I am the only one who seems to care to make that happen. I don't think he thinks anything is wrong. Yes, because it all works to his advantage. He sees me when he wants, he talks to me when he wants, he takes me out when he wants, etc, etc. You get the picture. Is is a control issue? I have no idea. I think he totally transfers his past relationships on me. He feels if I address anything, I am attacking him. Anyone who knows me, knows I am not like that at all. I am the most caring, laid back person. People walk all over me. I am nurturing and want others to be happy before myself. I am not passive, but I also care too much. This is a fault of mine. But since I have backed off from him, he thinks I don't care. It's just that I give what I get. I can't allow myself to be hurt again--I just can't. And he is doing that, whether he knows it or not.

He can be mean. The way he talks (erm, texts) me is just plain uncaring and rude. No, it isn't like this all the time, but whenever I dare state how I feel, he gets on guard and attacks. Can't we just have an adult conversation about our relationship? If it meant anything to him, he would arrange to see me where we could have an adult conversation. However, he may not want to because he really doesn't care. Right now, I feel like a nobody to him. That is how I honestly feel. I am so sad. I have to keep it together for my kids, but I just want to break down. I've had so much going on the past couple weeks. I don't even really have a boyfriend to talk to about anything in my life. If I dare, I am doing something wrong. I just can't win. So maybe I should just give up. I don't know what to do. Any suggestions, my faithful readers??

It's Over . . .

You know the relationship is completely over when:

1. He asks if you play the victim often.

2. When you save your ex-boyfriend from killing himself and you are accused of doing something wrong.

3. You haven't seen him in 5 days and won't see him for 7.

4. You have yet another argument via text.

5. Though he is barely high school educated, he seems to think he is smarter than you.

6. He tries psychoanalysis with not even a class on Dr. Phil.

7. Your next date will only happen if you have enough money to pay your own way.

8. You turn off your phone and avoid Facebook because you don't even want to deal with him.

9. Being alone is the better option.

10. Your heart aches and you don't even care anymore.

Song of the Day

Top Things That Mean It's Over . . .

1. When your relationship is based on text messages alone. Arguments should not be done via SMS. Sex should not be had in MMS.

2. You are perpetually sick or broke so you don't have to drive the 30 minutes it takes to get to your signficant other's house. This shows they aren't that significant.

3. You predict the above-mentioned text messages as if they are saved and programmed for morning, afternoon, and evening: "Good morning, babe. How did you sleep?", "Eating lunch now. Will text you later. Hope you are having a good day", and "Goodnight. Hope you had a good day. Sweet dreams."

4. :* and :) cannot substitute real emotions. Emoticons are not love. They are stupid symbols that half the time don't even look like what they are supposed to be. If you have to look at a book to decipher the "emotion" that he feels, you are done.

5. People assume you are married.

6. You feel like you are married.

7. The only sex you have is usually in a dive bar bathroom on the same day of the week, every week.

8. He is just not that into you and you know it.

9. You feel like you could be any girl and it wouldn't matter. YOU as an individual are a cookie cutter to fill his days--when he has the time.

10. His family wonder why you are still around.

11. You'd rather sleep next to your 8-year-old on an air mattress.

12. You have more interaction with Facebook.

13. Your ex boyfriend knows more about your life than he does.

14. You'd be less bored knitting sweaters for your mom's dogs than in your relationship.

15. Your routine is more predictable than "Two and a Half Men" episodes.

On a Kick . . .

I'm on a music kick right now. Like the old days. But when I am dissatisfied with my personal life, I seem to always turn to music and that whole lifestyle, which is also usually the demise of my relationships. I am terribly unhappy right now with my relationship. When I lack attention from the person I am with, I tend to reach towards music and that scene. I become obsessed with writing about it, going to shows, and researching. We all know, or at least those of you who truly know me, where that leads. As I've been called, I am a lionness. I usually always capture my prey. Not sure how I do that, but I kinda do.


Need I say more? I know how I operate. I really do. I know this insomnia is a sign of depression and a total lack of happiness. This stems from not being able to find a job and being stuck in my mom's house with my kids. However, it is also rooted in my current relationship. I have a guy who in general is great. BUT, he also lacks emotion and real interest. In the beginning, he was very attentive--though not quite as affectionate as I would have liked. We went on dates and tried to spend as much time as possible with each other. Now we rarely even text each other every day. I haven't seen him since Thursday and we haven't talked on the phone. What relationship is based on a couple of texts a day? I had more conversation with my ex-boyfriend when he was deployed in another fucking country. I still have more conversation with him!! I get my emotional fill from my ex who is just my friend. There is something so wrong with this.

I want to start going to shows again. He does not approve of that. And for that, I decided to not see a show that I really wanted to recently. That bothered me. I gave up something important to me, to be let down. But if he isn't giving me what I need, I do need to get some fun elsewhere. I don't know if I want to break up or not, but something needs to change. Otherwise, yes, I will go elsewhere. I deserve more than settling. If he doesn't realize this soon, with his evasion of my concern and wanting to talk about it, I will be gone.

Will I Never Be Happy?

My ex husband once told me, in a heated argument, that I would never be happy--nothing would ever make me content. I denied it, of course. However, I am starting to believe that perhaps this statement could be accurate. No matter who I am with, that person eventually disappoints me. I really never thought it was me, but maybe it is. Is it just that I get to know them and find out the real person or do I just expect too much. I don't think my standards are too high, honestly. And I have put up with a lot from men in my life. It isn't that no one is good enough; it's just that I think I can do better. Why settle? I started to think I was too shallow, so I started settling for guys who weren't my type. And it wasn't shallow. It was just wanting what I deserve in a companion.

My situation now is that I am with someone who lacks any emotion. At first I thought that perhaps he would open up and that he was like that because it was all new. But, I have found out, quite early, that this is just the way he is. And he says that he will never change. I love him. Then again he is so not my type. We have none of the same interests. We really have no conversation at all. Most of the days, we rarely talk except via text. The only days he really cares is the days HE has free and that is when we watch movies at his house or play darts. Things he wants. He is cheap. I don't even think he even really cares about me--I just fill space. So, now I am totally almost over him. I am just over it. Is he the best I can do? I don't think so. I still strive for that perfect guy who is stylish and artistic and creative and sexy and sweet. I don't think I have found him. What do I do?

Maybe I can't be happy. I think I will always be alone. Maybe that is how I am meant to be.

Julian Plenti Photo Recreation Contest . . .

Well, Matador is having a photo contest to promote Paul's new album, or Julian Plenti if you're nasty. Basically you need to recreate this photo of Paul reading Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain on a leather couch, with a white background, and his hand on some faceless girl's knee while staring, contemplatively into space. If you win, you get tickets to his Jimmy Fallon Show performance tomorrow night. Problem is, Jimmy Fallon tapes in NYC and Jenn is in LA. Would be alright if airfare was included or I had more time to make it happen, but you find out if you win tomorrow at 10 am and have to show up for taping at 3:45 EST. Yeah, that is impossible.

However, I was determined (with the impetus of Sebastian) to just do it to see if I could win. And it was kinda fun to be Paul for a moment, but in the female perspective. Yes, that was my idea. I was going to reverse the roles. I would be Paul and have some man's knee at my call . . .

The Mix Tape

It's funny how we find such pleasure in making the ubiquitous mix tape, which has now evolved into the mix cd. I think the first one I made was for my boyfriend, Scott Dilly (the one who took my virginity in Mammoth and needlessly dumped me weeks later for a younger blonde--I was 16, he was 18--and flaunted her in front of me at work at Nordstrom). After he dumped me, I ceremoniously left him one in his security cubby at our employee entrance and check-in at work (we both worked at Nordstrom, he in Brass Plum Shoes, me in Brass Plum--incestuous metropolis as it was). I knew one of the "security" guys, who happened to also be his high school buddy, and asked him, tearfully, to slip it in his box. When I asked later if he has gotten it, the security buddy nodded, as if to say that my 16-year-old antics were not appreciated and were not going to gain back Mr. Dilly, playboy esquire. Songs on this were Miami Sound Machine love songs, depressing Cure wrist slashers off Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, and cheesy Go-Go's heartbreak songs.

I may have grown up a bit since then. I still made mix tapes, but never really gave them away to anyone. They were marked with: Valentine's Day 1988; The River May 1992; Love Stinks June 1990; or Fucking Songs. They had the usual running length and would encapsulate what I was listening to at the time or songs that reminded me of the person/people in my life. I kept these bulky tapes for many years, up until my divorce when I had to majorly consolidate my possessions. Somehow immature mix tapes didn't fall into the category of being necessary. I think the last one I had actually made was for my ex-husband, commemorating our one-year anniversary or something. Awwww. How romantic it was to be young and in love. Though now, many of these songs haunt me as being representations of bad times in my life or people who are no longer around me. I do wish I could have the liner listings of songs so I could now download them all and make them into playlists on iTunes, our new source of making mixes . . .

Now that cassettes are obsolete, other than at some rummage sale or thrift store, ranked at a mere $.25 or less, we have the Internet and with that comes, iTunes, or whatever source of music you have for MP3's. Now, at our fingertips, are all the songs we ever wanted to put together to represent our lives. And how much easier it is (though costly). There is no longer the need to cue up a cassette, have dual cassette players, have to record and rerecord for perfection, and that nasty little static noise sometimes heard on that stringy brown tape. Now it is a click away. Everything we've wanted and individually, rather than buying a whole cassette or album (which was even worse because we had to record it from vinyl onto cassette, which left for shitty quality, as well), and easily put into a playlist that eases onto our iPods for every day listening during the commute. Ah, camping at San Onofre and making out with a random 21-year-old in 1987 in his tent while my dad was asleep in his tent about 25 campsites away. Or the drive to Lake Havasu 1988 in an Iroq listening to Val Halen all the way with 2 Hessian potheads and a black co-worker female who became so obliterated on White Russians that she had me take nude pics of her with a tampon string coming out of her. Then, can never forget August 1989, when I walked in on my boyfriend screwing his friend--yeah, that tape was a kicker.

So, as we speak, I am making a cd of songs for a guy who I went on one date with. Actually, I have already made the first one, but he requested another if I liked. He was intrigued with my musical taste (being pretty obscure, but damn good) and asked that night as we sat in the parking garage, listening to my iPod at 1 am, if I would make him a cd. I agreed at the time, feeling rather flattered and enamored. Of course he was also being flirty and putting his hands through my hair and laying it on quite nicely to get about whatever he wanted. Now he has flaked on me twice for dates, and though he randomly emails me asking how I am and whining about how busy he is with work and such, I am making his second cd. I don't know why. I want to show off my taste in music. I want to woo him into going out with me again. I want him to be my boyfriend. I want him to want me. But, just like with Scott Dilly and his love-mix cassette left with love in his cubby, it never made him want me again. Instead of making this guy, my new object d'amor, want me more, or not flake out on the dates he has made, it only jades me to a bunch of great songs that I love. I will listen to this playlist in a few months, or even longer, and remember the guy who called his style, "the charmer," and took me out for dinner and drinks and lured me in for hours, while luring me even longer over weeks via email. It will only make me sad that I fell for another guy who "just isn't that into me" and made me despise men and their lack of committment and follow through more so than before. It also makes me loathe the song "The Dress" by Blonde Redhead, which we listened to, of his choice, in the car that night. It also makes me understand the power of music and question our desire to encapsulate it in little bursts of 20 songs or so . . .

Happiness

It is amazing that I can give the best advice to people about being happy, but I DO NOT take my own advice. Sadly enough, the last time I was truly happy was almost 2 years ago. It took me awhile to think about that time, but it was when I was very much in love with Andrew, he was still stationed in California, and I had my kids with me. I had everything I wanted. Sadly, that all ended at the end of 2007. He moved to West Virginia and ended our relationship because he couldn't do long distance. And my kids moved back with their dad. To explain how that felt at the time was like my family had gone out in a car and died in a crash--never to come back. My world collapsed underneath me.

Why was that a happy time? It was simple. I got up every day at 5:30 to get Andrew up and ready for work. I then got my kids up and ready for school. I worked. Kids would come home and then Andrew would come home. We were like a family. Kids loved him. He loved the kids. We would go to dinner. We would read books and watch movies. No one had a lot of money and we were in a very small house. Yet, it was at the beach (though someone has a phobia of sand) and we were all good. Seeing Drew come home in cammies every night at 6 made my heart skip a beat. He wanted to be with me and the kids every night. We didn't party. And I loved him. I loved that time. And I sank very low when it was over. More than probably anyone knows, including the man himself (no, not God).

Good things always seem to come to an end. Sadly. And, I've been building myself up since then. I am going for a new start now. I'm going back to California with the kids and going for a new healthy life. I've realized that people who want to be around you, will be. People who are mean to you, are mean people. Happiness is not based on others. If you can't be happy alone, you will never be happy.

I can say that I don't need a man in my life. I can say that now and mean it. Who knows what will happen down the line. No, I don't want to be alone forever. But I don't want to deal with hurt and pain and the drama that comes along with being with anyone. I want to see my kids grow up healthy and happy. I want them to have the life I didn't have. See their proms and dates and aspirations. I'd like to share that with someone, but I don't know I trust anyone enough to share that precious thing with them.

I have no idea why I am rambling on . . . talked to Andrew today and it made me consider happiness. He is one person who will always affect me. Really, the only other person I have loved since my ex husband. Truly and wholeheartedly loved. I will always love him. I will probably never really be over him. Can I explain that? No. He fucked me over so much that I have no idea why I bother or why I even care. But little things make me think of him and what we had and what we lost. Will I ever find that again with someone else? Maybe. Am I looking for it? Nope. I just don't care. It is all about me right now. Seriously. I have got to be selfish for my kids. Or maybe that is unselfish. Seeing my babies every day and night makes me smile. It's better than any man can ever make me feel. I have learned that lesson over the years.

Define it, please . . . because it all depends on variables and life.

What's in a Name?

Being young and somewhat Feminist, when I first got married--back in 1993 (yes, that long ago)--I wanted to hyphenate my name. So, I had to go to the hassle of going to Social Security and getting the: Ryan-Kirchoff taken care of. I thought it was great to still keep my identity without discouraging my husband by only keeping my maiden name. However, this became an issue when many computer systems would not recognize a hyphen in a name. In college, my name always showed up Ryankirchoff on the roll sheets. Everyone thought it was some odd name from Uzbekistan or something. So, I gave in and only took my married name--again trudging to SS and the DMV.

Once I became separated, I was already a published writer for many years. And I had 3 kids. I thought it would be the right thing to keep the same last name as my children to not add confusion with school forms, etc. And I was only known in the publishing/poetry world by Kirchoff. I did, of course, write under a psuedonym for awhile, but that is besides the point. That was for purposes of anonymity and is attached to a very long story that involves said ex-husband.

Anyway, after this last debachle at the hands of my Kirchoff-toting ex-husband, I have finally severed all ties. Well, decided to sever all ties. I am finally getting the courts to move forward with the divorce since, though he was the petitioner, he never completed. And, I have decided to take back my maiden name. It isn't as easy as it seems though. In order for me to have MY name back, I have to petition the courts to "get it back." This I do not understand. Just because I married someone doesn't mean I am glued to his name without a hassle of getting it removed. It's like a bad growth--a wart or a fistule. More like a pustule. I don't want to be associated with the name any longer. I want to be free from this symbolic ties to a person I once loved, but now don't like much. Sure, my kids won't have the same name, but what's in a name? My mom carried the Ryan name for many years while her kids had another. Will it hurt them? No. Does it benefit me to change it? Not really. However, it feels good to finally have this wet blanket taken off of me. Like my own identity and self is back--yes, even at 36.

Now I will have to go from spelling my last name all the time and hearing butchering of it, to having to distinguish between Ryan and Brian, which people seem to hear. I like my maiden name. I didn't have it much longer than I've had my married name, but it will be good to go back to it. I may even have to tattoo it on me--since it will never change again.

Public Pools and Phobias

I gave in today and took my kids to the public pool in Republic. I do have to admit, it is a pretty awesome little swim park for being at a Community Recreation Center in Southwest Missouri. My problem is, I hate public pools. I mean, we didn't really have public pools in California. People had their own built-in pools. We have the economy in California to not share water--and cloudy water--with 500 hundred other people.

Public pools freak me out. I don't think I had this problem before, but I have a fear of the germs of other people. Someone said to me that I love the ocean and it is more polluted than any pool. However, the ocean is vast and has it's own form of cleansing itself. A pool is small, miniscule in comparison and is vastly over chlorinated (for good reason). If you think about it, in one day, at least at this pool, probably close to 500 people put their bodies in this pool. Some people don't bathe regularly. And we all have skin that comes off when we immerse in water. This water, though we wear bathing suits, touches penises, anuses, and vaginas. You have that cheese and fluid and fecal remnants coming off. Some people are hairy--both on their chests and heads--also their pubes.

Not only this, but people spit and piss in the pool. It is inevitable. They also may have communicable diseases or open wounds that contaminate the pool. Chlorine is not enough. Sure, not many people die from public pool diseases, but I'm sure it does happen. Ugh, the thought makes me sick.

So, not only that: I hate pools because the people there are fat and rude. Missouri has many fat people. People here are generally not attractive. They also have no manners. Kids splash in your face and push you out of the way in the pool. Who the fuck lets their kids act like this to adults? My kids would never do that. I got in the pool for just a bit because my kids begged me, but after getting splashed in the face and mouth 20 times, I gave up. I couldn't move and any time I did, some fat-ass whale was dancing around like twinkletoes doing fucking schynchronized swimming. Do people really wear goggles to be in the pool recreationally?

All I can say is that my kids better appreciate the things I did for them when they are older. I did get some sun, which is good. I can't going back to California looking like I spent a winter in Misery. Though I did and I looked like Casper until about a month ago. Just can't wait to get to the beach and relax for a week when I get there. I want to see old SC friends and do some fun things with the kids. It will be good for them to be back in the land of the living!

Stupid for a Reason

I could sit and kick myself for making the decision to move to Missouri. I could say the past 6 months have been a waste, especially after quitting a good job, leaving a boyfriend, leaving my good friends, and relying on the word of someone whose words mean nothing. However, I am moving back and taking my kids with me. I was able to spend the past months, without having to work, with my kids. That is not a waste. And, ultimately, things are going to be so much better. My kids and I need to be back with family in the place where we are all from. It is a new start to a much-needed new, stable life.

Writing about the lies and deceit could be a catharsis, but there is no point crying over spilled milk. Some people are better off alone to live their manipulative ways--and though it is both sad and pathetic, I am glad it isn't me. That is about all I have to say.

I am forging on in many ways. I have realized that I do not want to be attached to anyone in any way: emotional, financial, cohabitational. I have been lied to, used, manipulated in so many ways and by so many people in the past few years. I am just done. I don't want to live with anyone. I NEVER want to get married again. Honestly, I could care less if anyone at all is in my life other than my kids, my mom, and my true friends. My life is now about my children and myself. And that is all that matters.

It's truly sad how enlightenment comes slowly for some people. I feel really sorry for them. Those people know who they are--or they deny who they are, actually. Just glad from now on, I am no longer attached at all and in any way. Drama is so sophomoric and immature. Let those people implode. Life is way too short to stress about the little things. I just want to take an eraser and get rid of it all--that is my plan. And it's a good one.

So, as of the 2nd of July, I will back on home soil. California, here I come. As much as it is fast-paced and crowded and expensive--it will always be my home. California or Bust!!

Sex, Lies, and Manipulation

It's strange to find out, after so many years, that someone you trusted is the biggest liar and manipulator imaginable. It is disheartening, actually. Sad, not only for me, but for the person themselves. I've known someone almost half my life and shared the most important and intimate things with this person.

This person was never like this and I have no idea how they became this person. It is disgusting. It is sick. And I'm done with it. So be it. Dig your own hole and bury yourself in it.

A Confederacy of Slackers

Well, I am about half way through the book club selection, A Confederacy of Dunces. I must say that half way is half way too much. I am not highly fond of the book and should save my ranting for the book club meeting, which by the way, has been postponed. It seems no one has read the book. Ah, just like the good old days in college when you needed to have, let's say, Galworthy read by Wednesday and you start reading Tuesday night and go into class, kinda quiet, looking down a lot and trying to avoid eye contact with the professor. However, class was never postponed and we never got more time to read . . . unless, of course, you had me as a professor and I came to class not having read the selection either. I was the queen of winging it. When you've taught the same thing for 9 years, yeah, you don't much care. Well, I didn't much care after 2 years, honestly.

Ok, my son is now showing me the large Pringles can and holding it down in his crotch area. How in hell did I raise this spawn? I guess I can blame that on his father!!

I found a very old friend of mine on Facebook today and it is really great to catch up with old friends from youth. Ayliz just had a baby (God, I do give sympathy to anyone who waits until my age to have a first baby, or any baby for that matter) and is happily married since 2007. She was probably one of my closest friends in school because she was from Turkey and not a total snob like everyone else in Claremont. Looking through old high school friends, it is true that the hot, popular people really don't age well. Most of the guys are fat, bald, and really old looking. Some of the women still look good, but many of them look like they could be my mom's age. I'm not saying that I look like a spring chicken, but damn, I sure as hell have aged much better than most. I can thank my Irish genes. Funny that many of the guys who were geeks and outcasts are pretty damn good looking now. So, the movies aren't as much fiction as I thought . . .

Since I haven't posted on here in ages, just thought I'd throw a little spice into the pan. I do live in Missouri and have very little to do being unemployed, and did I mention also in Missouri? Glad I have my kids and my ex (yes, he does rank up there in keeping me somewhat sane--and maybe a little insane) and my amazing boyfriend.

Speaking of my strange children, my daughter just came up to me with a shrunken white balloon and held it to her head saying, "Look at my little brain." All I can think of is, well, do I have to spell it out. Takes me back to Josh, the bartender, trying to win a game of beer pong against the girls (I was on the girls team) by doing "the brain." Ugh, my children are either wired the same way as me and my ex or they watch way too much Family Guy or they are just plain weird. Maybe a mix of both.

Until next time I get bored . . . which will be very soon.