Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Cubicle Life

Good morning world. It’s a beautiful day and I’m sitting in a 5x5 cubicle. What’s wrong with this picture? Are we really meant to spend our lives indoors staring at cubicle walls?

I used to love my job, I still like it, and I’m good at it, I just want out of this cubicle. I’ve tried to make it homey and welcoming, there are pictures of all the kids in my life, pictures of Joyce and I doing silly things, a white board that I write the quote of the day on, music, my grow a boyfriend sponge, little sayings that I’ve collected, and then there is the wallpaper that is made up of company information that I need to have readily available. All I can say is, yuck!!

I talk on the phone to customers, send tons of emails, but there is no interaction. Of course I interact with my co workers, not as much as you might think, but we do talk, gossip around the water cooler. It’s not enough.

I want to meet new people, see new things. I want a job that challenges me everyday to be the best I can be, not one that stifles my creativity. I feel like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at this. I don’t even like saying that, I never considered myself a sales person, just thinking about salesmen conjures up all kinds of bad images. I don’t want to be a slick, smooth talker who can worm her way in to make the sale. I want to develop rapport with people, get to know them, befriend them.

I think it’s time for a change. In all areas of my life I’m feeling a shift. My stint as a full time parent is drawing to a close, everyday Mo get’s more and more independent and less and less my little girl. She is in a hurry to grow up and be her own person, I’m trying to let go, but in order to let go, I need something else to put my energy into.

My personal life is a joke, apparently there is a magnet imbedded in my forehead that attracts every alcoholic, substance abusing, unemployed, cheating, unreliable, commitmentphobe in Utah! Time for a change.

And then there is my job. I like to work, I enjoy people, I just don’t enjoy cubicle life. Ideas are swirling around in my head, things I can do to support us without coming to this cubicle every day. Wish me luck!

Monday, June 29, 2009

Beer and the Arts Festival

Saturday Angie, Mo and I rode Trax downtown to volunteer at the Arts Festival. Mo volunteered on Friday, she did face painting in the toddler area and had a blast, she loves little kids.

So Saturday after doing all the weekend chores we headed downtown, just us three girls. I love to watch the people on the train, they usually provide very good entertainment on the way there- like the guy who got on the train with his bike, wearing cowboy boots, flirting with this little blonde, telling her he was some big time sound guy, pretty funny.

Anyway, we get to the festival Mo goes with the soda pop group and Angie and I head for the adult beverage booth, my latest and greatest idea to meet a guy. I've been thinking if I want to meet a man, I have to go where men are, so beer = men, and I talked my sister into tagging along!

We were in a booth with, to start, five other people, which was great, Angie and I got to be on the front line, serving the beer. Two guys who were staffers where taking orders and money and three people where pouring from the taps behind us, lining up beers on the table and we were filling the orders as fast as they came in, we had a rythym going.

Then Brunhilda, or whateve the hell her name was, came to our booth to help. Brunhilda was about 50 and Russian with a long braid that kept falling in the beer. And wouldn't you know it, ole Brunie was not gonna pour, so she was on the front line with me and Angie went back to pour.

That's when the chair came out. Seems Brunhilda's idea of helping was sitting in a chair and wiping up the beer I spilled filling orders. This put her constantly in my way, everytime I turned around she was leaning over from her chair trying to organize the beer on the table I was grabbing beer off of. Ok, she's older, maybe she needs to sit.

I was starving so I ran and quickly got fries for me and Angie while a security guard covered for me. I put them on the table by the beer so Ang and I could both get to them. Well, little Miss Brunhilda must have been very hungry because the bitch was eating my fries!! I didn't notice at first because I was really busy but when things slowed down she said to me in a very nasty Russian accent " Are these fries for everyone, or just you Americans?"

What the hell? I must have looked at her funny because she said " She ( meaning Angie) is eating them, but she said not me."

Angie said " I told you, you should ask her if you can have some, not just eat them"

Brunhilda " Well you are eating them."

Angie, " I'm her sister!"

Brunhilda " You Americans!"

What the hell is up with that? So I just said, whatever, not a big deal , let it go. Well apparently she doesn't know the meaning of let it go and would not shut up about those fries all night!

And sadly since we sold $12,000 worth of beer in four hours, which translates to 600 beers an hour, I didn't even have a second to flirt! So much for new ways to meet men.

Then on the train home, my shy, awkward little Mo, walked down the car we were in and sat across from this boy and started talking to him! She was flirting a mile a minute, I didn't know she had it in her. She gave him her number. I wasn't sure whether to be proud ( You go girl!!) or be disturbed ( My baby is talking to strangers on the train)

A fun time was had by all and I will definately do it again next year, but I'm going to have to find a slower booth to do my flirting in!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Daddy's and Daughters

Happy Father's day to all the wonderful fathers I know. This post is dedicated to my ex husband. Although my profile says I am a single mother of one, and on paper that's definately true, thanks to Steve, I am not a single parent.

Many of the blogs I read have very negative things to say about ex husbands and fathers in general. I want to tell the other side of the story. We all have negative things to say about our ex husbands ( and they about us), that's why we are divorced. However just because you are not the world's greatest spouse doesn't make you a bad parent.

Steve and I had a very hard time when we first divorced. There was a lot of animosity and hard feelings, fortunately we were able to sheild Mo from most of that. As time has passed we have formed a very friendly relationship, we even get along with the other people in each other's lives. ( Except for that one woman, I won't name names, he knows who she is)

But this is about father's, not ex spouses. Lots of fathers and mothers are deadbeats, I'm not denying that, but tons aren't. Steve pays child support, pays for her braces, school fees, whatever else Mo needs. It's never an argument, she is his child and he loves her.

Steve is there when Mo needs him. When she had surgery on her mouth he took the day off work to come and hold her hand while they put her under and to sit with me while we waited.

When it was over he was the one who carried her to the car and up three flights of stairs because the anesthesia hadn't worn off enough for her to walk. He stayed with us when I had to give her pain medication, just to make sure she didn't have an allergic reaction.

When Mo is being a typical teenage and I'm at my wits end, it's her Daddy I call. We are in this together, we make decisions for her, together, we have difficult conversations with her, together. We are united as her parents and as much as she whines about being from a broken home, I think her foundation is much stronger than lots of children of divorce.

Daddy is the one Mo calls and uses her baby voice, not me. Daddy is the one she wants when she is scared, not me. Daddy is the one she talks to when I'm being unreasonable. Mo is a Daddy's girl and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now in addition to our beautiful baby girl, Steve has another daughter, and he is just as atttentive to her as he is to Mo. Initially Mo was not happy about sharing her Daddy, she would much rather I have fifteen kids than to have to share her Daddy with one sibling. Mo was afraid, after all, she was Daddy's special girl. She was so afraid that this new little intruder was going to take her place in Daddy's world. Steve told her no matter how many kids he has that she would always be special, and then, he showed her it was the truth. Mo is able to love her sister with all her heart, and share her Daddy, because he showed her that some things never change.

Mo was born on Father's Day and I always joked and said Steve was never getting anything else for Father's Day, after all, how do you top that? The truth is that the three of us got the greatest gift that day. Steve and I got Mo, and Mo got the best Daddy any little girl could want.

Thank you Steve for giving our little girl the foundation and love she needs to grow into a strong, intelligent woman who knows she doesnt' have to settle. After all, Daddy loves her best.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

My baby

How did this happen? That little tiny baby I wished for forever, is now a young woman. It doesnt' seem like that long ago the doctor's told me I would never have a biological child, and yet, here she is, beautiful and grown.

I spent yesterday thinking about 16 years ago today, when Mo was still safely growing in my tummy and I was able to protect her from the big, bad world.

Then, for a while, I was still able to protect her. I slayed all the dragons in the neighborhood to keep my girl safe and happy. No one was allowed to rain on her parade.

Now, I can't protect her. She goes out into the world every day, without me. She meets people who are rude, inconsiderate, people who are just plain mean. And sometimes, she protects me. Like flying, I hate to fly so when we fly I have a death grip on my baby girls hand and she has to patiently explain, over and over, yes, the plane is supposed to make that noise Mom, no we are not gonna crash, yes the wing thingies do that, it's normal.

I think as parents we spend so much time wondering how our babies can possibly survive in the world without us running interference for them, I'm starting to wonder how I'll survive when she leaves the nest.

Today and everyday, Mo is the greatest gift I've ever recieved and all any parent could ever ask for in a daugther.

Enjoy the day my beautiful baby, and the specialness that is you. ( No I didn't mean short bus special Mo!) Thanks for letting me be your Mommy. I love you

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Some gave all

I've been sad about something for a little while so I decided to blog about it to get it out of my head. If you are looking for something funny, you are in the wrong place today.

My father was killed in Vietnam when I was three. Not earth shattering news since that was so long ago, but I always had a sense of pride because my Daddy died for all of us. Living on the east coast it was easy to see and feel patriotism. All the battlefields and monuments are there, school field trips were to Gettysburg, Philadelphia and Washington DC. I knew our history and felt personally related through the sacrifice my father made.

My whole life I have been angry about what was taken from my father, but lately I've come to learn, first hand, that the ones who made it back weren't any luckier, they just had to wait longer for their ultimate sacrifice, and it would be much slower and more painful.

Recently we went to New Mexico for my nephew's graduation. My ex husbands family lives there and as he and I have a good relationship now, I went to visit them.

Steve's brother is confined to a wheelchair, this has been a very recent development. Wayne is the oldest of the brothers and always very active, a leader, he makes things happen. Together he and his wife put together and hosted the yearly family reunion, they even built stages and serving areas. The whole family is very musical so the reunion centered around music with the brothers harmonizing together for most of it. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed it. Wayne never sat still, he always had another project planned to make next years reunion even better.

Wayne and Arlene found each other late in life, after failed marriages for both of them, and they have the kind of love the rest of us wish we could find. Now she is losing him.

Wayne has ALS, better known as Lou Gehrig's disease, as a direct result of exposure to agent orange in Vietnam. ALS affects the nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord which leads to loss of muscle as it wastes away and voluntary movements are affected eventually leading to paralysis. There is no cure and the disease progresses differently from patient to patient.

This man, who to me always seemed a little larger than life, sits in a wheelchair and speaks barely above a whisper. ASL doesn't affect the brain, so the man who traveled the world, built things, took care of his family, ran companies, is still there, looking out through the same eyes, but with a body that won't respond to his commands any more. Eventually he may not even be able to speak.

When we were in New Mexico, Steve and David were at Wayne's when I was there and they did what they always do- Steve played the guitar and he and David sang. Wayne watched from his wheelchair, no longer able to sing with his brothers, all he can do is watch.

I understand that we need to protect our freedom, for us, for our children and for all the generations to come, but is this the price? Here, in our own country, there are so many things wrong, we are killing each other for the stupidest reasons, we are killing ourselves with drug and alcohol abuse, the elderly are not taken care of, children are not protected, yet we continue to fight everyone else's battles.

In the past, every time we sent our boys to fight in another country, all I could think was- here we go, another generation of fatherless children. The reality is much harsher. Those who don't die on foreign soil come home to die a much slower death. We don't honor our veterans, we give lip service to it, but if you've ever been to a veteran's hospital or a homeless shelter, you know it's not true.

I'm not sure what my point is with this post, I just needed to get this out of my head. Thank you Daddy, and all the men who have died for us. Thank you Wayne and all the men who continue to die, because we just don't know any better.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Wine party tonight!

Just a short little post, have I shared how much I love wine? Let's just say if it wasn't for the job and the house, I would be a bonafide wino. Wandering the streets with my shopping cart and about a dozen cats following me, drinking from a paper bag.

Jon and Angie belong to this wine club, and I joined. My first offical wine party was tonight. It was fun, lots of people to meet, lots of good wine to sample and lots of yummy food to eat. And, there was actually someone there I met in Marty's hot tub and told about the wine club and she joined. so that was cool. and she brought the most amazing dip thingy that Angie and I could not stop eating.

The best part though? My sister was there. No matter where we are, we can enjoy ourselves and make each other laugh. We were in the kitchen at one point, quoting our favorite movie, laughing our asses off. Luckily, no wine spurted out of either of our noses.

I love you baby sister, even if you did get fired on your day off!

Oh, and when I got home, Mo was locked in the bathroom again. For a kid who's almost sixteen and thinks she's so grown up, she sure is a scaredy cat and still needs her momma. I love that.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

It's all a numbers game

Dating, how much fun is that? Those of you who know me, know that I have been married three times, that's right, three, wanna make something of it? Apparently I'm really good at getting married, not so good at staying married.

I have all the typical excuses, it wasn't me, it was them, I made bad choices, they pretended to be something they weren't, yada, yada, yada. Oh hell with it, it was me. I wanted something more. I know what I want, I just don't know how to get it. How to stop thinking I can turn every frog into Prince Charming.

Dating is a numbers game and I was never very good at math. In order to meet your Mister Right you gotta kiss a lot of frogs. Ok, I'm puckered up, where are the frogs? You have to put yourself out there, go new places, try new things, meet new people. It sounds like a travel brochure.

I put myself out there. I think I've been a member of every online dating site there is, at least once, some multiple times. It's all fun and games until it comes to actually meeting people. I'm good with emailing, texting,talking on the phone, but as soon as he says " Let's meet for coffee" I'm looking for a way out.

I hate first dates. I'm goofy, I laugh when people trip and hurt themselves, I say inappropriate things, sometimes I laugh until I snort whatever beverage I'm drinking out of my nose. Not the best first impression. I try to rein that in and what happens?

The last man I dated thought I was very reserved. Me, reserved? We dated for two months and when he said that I wasn't even sure he had ever met me. I streak on New years eve, every year, I've been known to tell dirty jokes- to my gynecolgist during an exam, I taught my neice all the foul language she knows. Reserved, really?

I gotta stop that. I'm not reserved, do I really care what they think? If they won't like me I should find out up front, not two years down the road when I let my guard down.

I went on a date with the brother of a friend, I liked him, he told her he didn't think I was into him. Where is the middle ground? Maybe I'm reserved on the first few dates because I've dated so many weirdos who didn't respect my personal space.

Like Mr Winky. He is famous in my circle of friends, the only man I ever dated who, about two hours into our first date, was masturbating on the couch when I returned from the bathroom. We hadn't even kissed yet, not sure what made him think that was the next logical step.

I got him back though. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, laughing my ass off. He jumped off the couch and came after me. At the door we were greeted by his dog chewing on my tampon applicator, little present for him to clean up after making me need therapy before I could date again.

So, maybe I am reserved, maybe there is a reason for it. But maybe it's time to say the hell with it. Just be me, whoever that is, and see what happens.

Monday, June 8, 2009

A father's love

It's amazing how much Daddy's love their little girls, and the lengths they are willing to go for them. Not that they dont' love their sons but there is something special about Daddy's little girl. My friend Jared is the proud papa of three children, two girls and a boy. The latest girl is a wee little thing less than two weeks old.
His oldest daughter is seven, and the sweetest, tiniest little girl with the biggest smile. You can tell her Daddy thinks the sun and moon rise and set in her and she feels the same way about him.
Any seven year old who's parent's listen to country music knows who Taylor Swift is, especially if her name also happens to be Taylor. If you are not a country music fan, Taylor Swift is a blonde cutie, about 19, who got her start several years ago. Mo saw her about three years ago when you could get tickets to her concerts for ten bucks a piece. That is not the case now.
So, Miss Taylor Swift came to town. The concert soldout within about five minutes, thanks to scalpers, I know, I tried to get tickets for Mo.
My friends little girl wants to see Taylor Swift, really, really, really bad! Jared is heartbroken because he can't give his little girl what she wants. But wait!
A local radio station featured a fearles fathers for Taylor tickets. All these big, brawny men had to do was dress in drag, go to the radio station and sing a Taylor song. Piece of cake.
We had a field day dressing our friend up, doing his makeup, styling his wig, teaching him how to bop his hip like a girl while playing the guitar instead of tapping his foot like a guy. We even taught him how to walk and that cute little foot kick thing she does when she sings.
When he was ready we all loaded up our cars and created a caravan to the radio station for a team activity. We were going to the radio station to support our friend, well, all the women anyway, the guys wanted nothing to do with it. Although a few did ask him what he was doing later.
Once at the radio station I could not believe my eyes, there were twenty proud papa's, their daughters and assorted friends ready to cheer these men in drag on.
It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. One man was even wearing daisy dukes and a belly shirt, and just let me say, he hasn't spent much time at the gym in his life! But, he sang his heart out to a song he didn't know, just for his little girl.
Have you ever heard grown man try to sing a song that a young girl sings?Lots of cracking voices and straining for the high notes. Both the funniest and the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
The funniest part was all these little girls, staring at their drag queen daddy's, singing their hearts out. The looks on their faces, priceless, they weren't sure exactly how they felt, pride, embarrassment, or maybe they were just storing up information for future therapy sessions.
My friends two year old son was dumbstruck as only a two year old can be. He kept staring at his Daddy, touching his long blonde hair, trying to figure out what was going on.
Alas, Jared didn't win, but we all think he is the best dad in the world. And thanks to his wife's phototgraphy skills, this day will live on in the family's memory.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Girls night out

Last night I went to a friends house for appetizers and wine. Just a girl party, her husband was out of town, her son was with his father, so it was just us girls. Only four of us were able to make it, everyone else had kid activities, prior commitments, etc.

We had such a good time. I love meeting new people, sometimes they give you a whole new perspective on yourself. One of the ladies that was there was very interesting. She has traveled all over the world, was in the Peace Corp and is married to a man almost twenty years her junior. She is beautiful, intelligent and funny as hell. She also pulls absolutely no punches, if you don’t want to hear the truth, don’t’ talk to her, she is going to say what she thinks, regardless.

We were talking about men, as we women are prone to do when we are together, two of the four were married, two of us are single. So we started talking about dating and the lack of suitable men, which of course led to all the reasons we are not really throwing ourselves out there and dating like we should be, if we truly want a relationship. As we listed the things about ourselves that we wanted to change so someone would love us, because obviously we feel unlovable as we are, this wonderful new friend started making us take a look at ourselves.

She said “I recently came across a picture of myself when I was much younger, and I thought- I was beautiful. Of course I wasn’t beautiful, none of us are ever perfect enough to feel beautiful, but looking at that young girl, she was absolutely gorgeous and she had no idea. I remember thinking at that age, all the things that weren’t perfect about me. I realized that we are never going to be more beautiful than we are right at this minute, and if we don’t live like we are beautiful and deserving of wonderful things, we are going to wake at 80 and say, why didn’t I see how beautiful I was?

So, that is my new perspective, I am beautiful, and I am not going to wait for someday, my someday is now

Computer Dependent

I confess, I’m addicted to my computer. I don’t know how I lived without it. Right now my computer is down and I cannot believe all the ways that my life is connected to that computer and now, I’m at a loss.

All of my writing is on that computer, every word. I can’t access it, I can’t add to it, I can’t edit it, I can’t even look at it and bask in the words I’ve written and the worlds I’ve created. It might as well not exist. Shit.

Last night I went to a friend’s house that I had never been to before, she sent the address and a google map, to my email, which I can’t access. I had written the address in my day planner but without being able to map the directions, I was lost. Thank God for cell phones.

It’s the last week of the school year, I can check my daughters grades and missing assignments online, so she can take care of them before school is finished. Oh wait, I can’t access the internet.

Paying bills, forget about it. I do everything electronically. I don’t even get paper bills in the mail anymore, they come to my email ( which, again, I can’t access) and then I log into my bank account (denied) and pay them. Do you think the mortgage company will forgive a late payment because I couldn’t access my bank account?
Even my library account, how lazy have I become? I don’t go to the library like a normal person and wander around until I find some books that look promising, no, not me. What I do instead is when I hear about a book I want to read I log onto my library account find the book and put it on hold then the library’s little automated lady calls my cell phone and let’s me know the book is ready for me. I am actually reading the Twilight series because it’s the only thing in the house I haven’t read.

Not to mention my favorite blogs. Can’t read them, can’t see them, I get updates on my phone from my blog friends through Twitter, but it’s only 140 characters. Not very informative.

My blogs, can’t touch them. I write my blogs at work and email them to myself to copy and paste into my blog from home because this blog site is blocked from work. Can’t copy and paste, can’t even read the emails.

I have a blog that I write for *******, something that may actually pay me, guess what? Can’t log in, can’t access, can’t blog.

I may strangle myself with a USB cord if this isn’t rectified soon!

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Internet dating and golf

I don’t like internet dating. For the most part it is awkward, weird and not at all fun. People are usually nothing like the tiny little profile they present online, but more about that later.

One of the best dates I ever had was from the internet. Brian contacted me online, we emailed, moved to phone calls, and in general were able to talk and make each other laugh. I still didn’t want to go when we finally arranged a date. I actually backed out the first time, some sorry excuse about my daughter and her first period, which he understood as he has daughters as well. Such an understanding man.

Anyway, the second time we arranged a date I didn’t feel like I could back out, so I made the trek from Sandy to Logan because I don’t like the internet crazy’s to know where I live. We were going golfing, now that made me laugh! Having never hit a golf ball in my life I thought we were both in for a frustrating day, to say the least.

I was pleasantly surprised that Brian looked exactly like the picture he had posted on the dating website, and he was exactly who he seemed to be on the phone. Score! Within minutes I felt like I had known him forever.

He was a lifetime Air Force man, his son gave golf lessons at the Air Force base, so off we went. First we hit some balls from the little green thingy and there was a man in a motorized cart collecting all the golf balls in the field so Brian and Derrick were trying to hit him with a golf ball while I laughed until I almost peed my pants.

Then it was onto the course. I was nervous, especially when they paired us up with two older men who owned actual golf pants. Fortunately they were all very patient with me, even laughing at the weird little baby stepping, butt shaking dance I had to do to get my feet in the right place.

It was the best internet date ever. We were singing and making up rules and skipping and eating hotdogs from a little shack on the course. All in all a good day was had by all…… Too bad he wasn’t really divorced……….another reason I hate internet dating!