Why I bother?

So I made a fatal mistake once again, faithful few, I tried to explain myself and reach out for support. I'm a dumb-ass and a glutton for punishment-Maybe I'm a masochist? All I really know for a fact is that I am completely insane...I keep doing the same exact thing and expecting a different response. *sigh* I used to be so smart....

Whether the whole "no life, no job, few prospects, and getting shitty grades on my Pop's grammar quizzes" thing is catching up to me or perhaps its just PMS, but I melted down today. OK, truthfully, I think it's all of the above. But I absolutely hate melting down in front of people, especially when it's in front of a certainwomanwhosharesDNAwithme. WHY? Frankly, because she doesn't get it or me so while Pop always made the joke about finding sympathy between shit and syphilis in the dictionary, SHE really believes it obviously because that's about as much as I ever get from her.

With tears running down my face I'm talking about my struggle and frustration about finding a job (and being rejected at each turn) and my fear of not being able to support the 3 of us on a teacher's salary. What do I get? "Well, we tried to tell you that when you said you wanted to be a teacher?" FUCKING REALLY?!

Never in a million fucking years would I EVER say that to Cait or T!! EVER! But she said she's just trying to be on the "up and up" with me. Okey Dokey! Thanks. How about some support? How about not saying shit? How about listening? How about not passing fucking judgment on me for just one damn day? I think that would be just peachy!! Thanks.

I'm thinking that if I stay here much longer one of us will need to up our dosage of Lexapro, seriously!  Why on Earth do I even bother...

Sick and Tired

I am So freaking sick and fucking tired of filling out applications. Seriously. I'm over it. I am in a constant state of applying for jobs, crossing my fingers, getting rejections letters, and applying for something else.  I'm just sick to death of this shit.

When I became a teacher it was under the understanding that teachers were always needed. Umm, lie! At this point I probably couldn't get a job in the Delta right now. I feel like a pariah or something on the coast and I'm not seeing anything further up. Grr!!!!

And just for the record, filling out teacher applications is different from any other, run-of-the-mill application. You have to basically write down everything in the whole world, or maybe it just seems like a lot since I've worked in so many different fucking schools. (Thanks asshole.)

Maybe I'll take a break from the search, even if it does make me feel like a complete loser to sit at my parents home with my kids and my little part time job. I have totally given up writing in the search for a job of some kind, so maybe I should give up the search and go back to writing.

I know I should be patient, but I really feel like my life is on hold-shelved until further notice with no real way out. This that I have now is a partial life because while I live here I feel like and am treated like a teenager (at least my mom does, my Dad realizes I am an adult and the two moneys in the back are my kids.). I mean, I am constantly surrounded without a moment of alone and quiet. I don't feel like I am able to go anywhere or do anything-with or without the kids. I write and there's either a head hanging over me, reading, or a burning look which accuses me other terrible things. Sigh...

I just want to feel like my life is my own. Like my kids and I can get back to our little groove in the world. We had a good thing going in Hattiesburg, but now the idea of the Burg doesn't feel like home anymore. Trouble is I don't know what WILL feel like home. The Coast isn't home. The Burg isn't home. What IS home? I guess I can make anything home that I want to be home, but I'm not quite sure where that will be. Perhaps home is where I will find a job, but what if I don't find a job?! What if I'm stuck here another year?!

Another year of doing nothing, going nowhere, feeling stuck, feeling squished, and wishing my life would start again.

Willing Ex

A friend of mine posted a movie poster on FB of The Expendables (I think that's what it was) which is an uber-guy, bang-bang-shootemup movie coming out in August. I was curious enough to at least SEE what the silly thing was about when I found myself staring at this beautiful man I'd love to be my next ex...Jason Statham. 

OMG, he's just SOOOO yummy!  I have no clue what exactly makes him sooo appealing to me. Is it the rough and tumble exterior that hints at a soft, dreamy inside? Mischievous twinkle in his eyes? hard, but not overly muscled body? The super sexy accent? (Humm, yeah, the accent is a REALLY big part of it.)

If anyone out there knows of a similar specimen please let me know because I'm totally game.

Needs.

Ahhhhhh...the joys of the slightly employed single mother.



I'm So in need of time in a quiet spot with nothing going on around me. I don't even want Internet, but I do want my phone to work because I'm addicted to Pandora. But other than that I want NO distractions, which may be distracting in itself, but I'm willing to chance it.

I have SO much swirling around my brain it's starting to get painful and overwhelming, but starting something and then having to stop every 5 minutes to break up a fight or refill a sippy cups is giving me creative blue balls-not life threatening, but damned uncomfortable.

I just feel that if I could finish one- just one- that the others would fall into place much easier, basically because I'd have more confidence that I could actually finish something.

Another blog that I follow, Confessions of the Unpublished, has announced a writing challenge-50,000 in 50 days. Fifty days of writing at least 1000 words. In a row. The words AND the days. I want to do it, but I'm afraid that my already semi-sleepless nights will get even more sleepless. When in the hell will I find the time to write 1000 words a day? How in the hell can I keep my brain going in any sort of creative direction for 50 days? 50 days is forever! It's crazy time! It's so completely doable that I think I could do it and I hope I don't end up talking myself out of it.

It sounds scary, and I also think that's why I need to do it. It's big and scary. It's nothing I've ever done before. AAKKKK! AaahhhhOOoohhhhShtiiiiittt! 

I'm going to need your love and support, faithful few, and possibly a few kicks in the ass to get me across that 50,000 word mark. Let the fun begin!

The Past Year

Today is May 17th.

In two days, it will be May 19th.

Three Hundred and Sixty-Three days since "that day".

Since that day was so amazingly life changing, I thought I'd reflect on just what these past 363 days have done both TO me and FOR me. 

• It tested my skills as a Mother. Before I have loads of help and support, even if that was just because I was always told I wasn't a very good mother, but the fact remains that I flitted through the first years of my children's lives with minimal fuss or muss and always had the opportunity to "pass off" any disagreeable jobs. Now I have me. Don't get me wrong, when I'm at the end of my rope my parents are right there to boost me back up, but it's still just me. While my kids are fairly well behaved (most days), they are not always angels or quiet or still. However, they say "ma'am" and "sir" and I think that is something special. The rest is nothing that will make them delinquents later in life, so I'm OK with my wild youngins.
• It helped me reestablish Jamie. I didn't realize I had lost her until I no longer had another person demanding I devote every spare second of thought and molecule of energy on him. The first time someone made me laugh I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a reason to laugh let alone just let loose and laughed. I had been SO wound up in trying desperately try to fix what I knew was broken and dying-just so focused in trying to make HIM happy somehow-that I forgot that MY feelings and MY happiness were never even considered. I dressed how HE wanted me to dress. Did my hair how HE preferred it done. Cooked what HE liked to eat. Went places that HE wanted to go (For any unaware, those are only places that serve beer, which is why I haven't been to the movies in years.) I deferred everything him because he was the one that was emotionally erratic and seemly dissatisfied with anything involving being an adult. (home, family, responsibility, job, etc.) MY wants, needs, desires, feelings, thoughts, opinions, likes, dislikes, tastes were pushed aside by me, at the same time they were deemed unimportant by him.  SO, these past 363 days I have gotten to unpack my wants, needs, desires, feelings, thoughts, opinions, likes, dislikes, tastes and dust them off from seven years of disuse. It's been eye-opening to spend bits of time rustling through all of it; I really am nothing now like the person I was then. I feel I should reintroduce myself to those who only know me from that time. Hell, no wonder I was "encouraged" to not see or contact my old friends or family members. You guys, wouldn't have recognized me! I was kinda like the Zombie version of Jamie or submissive Barbie Jamie. NO good! The BIGGEST thing I've found I like...is ME!!!
• It allowed me the opportunity to re find my dreams. Once upon a time I wrote silly stories and poems as they popped into my brain. I've always referred to it as an itchy feeling in my brain and the only relief I get from that feeling is to write out the itch. (I really thought I was crazy until my Dad told me the the exact same thing happens to him-down to describing it as an itch. Wild.) I even remember writing "Write a novel" on my 25 Things to Do list I made in Mrs. Ladner's Oral Communications class my Senior year. Unfortunately, I married someone who people thought was creative, but wasn't. In fact, he was always jealous of it. Between that jealousy and my personal deprivation, my itches gradually dwindled into oblivion. Gone. Nada. Nothing. I wanted them, but could not conjure up the simplest idea, let alone flesh anything out. I felt empty-drained of what I can only describe as a twinkle.  Strangely enough, when the initial haze of disbelief cleared it all came back to me. And let me just say, it freaking FLOODED my brain. I started this blog to help with the overflow of ideas, but I think there are no less than nine different folders on my computers containing, what I believe are good idea and snippets of research. Now I'm just wondering how I will ever get everything written with all the free time I have...buahahahahahaha. I'm just glad to have it back.
• It brought me back into the fold of my family and friends. You see, he wasn't a fan of anyone HE didn't personally bring into our circle of friends. If they were my friends first there was always something wrong with them. Except my Theta Sisters, he knew better than to talk shit about them; it was just friends I tried to make after we were married. this past year has definitely taught me who my real friends are and who really loves me. I mean, actions speak louder than words and I got the intended message loud and clear from a few I thought were buddies of mine.

I think the most important lesson I've learned is that I am way more capable, talented, beautiful, intelligent, and amazing than I thought I could ever be...and All I really did to accomplish it was get shed of a husband. Who knew?!

New Project

It may not be the best idea in the world, but I've decided to reopen my personal can of worms and relive it. Why? Well, truthfully, because I don't think I really lived it while it was happening. I really did shut down and put on my best smile. Why? Well, because that is what I was always taught to do. Being overly emotional has always been a huge sign of weakness to my mom. She just doesn't tolerate it well. Anger is an acceptable emotion, but not really an other one. If you show a great amount of emotion people know what makes you tick and can therefore have control or power over you. No Good!

So, I'm going to branch out and not stick my toes in, but jump head first into treacherous waters of *gasp* messy emotions. I'm going to relive every single heart-wrenching moment for a series of epistles which chronicle the past year called Letters You Will Never Read. Now this project will probably never be published, but I think it will be a very cathartic work that will work out the residual muck I have lodged inside myself.

I feel it all rattling around inside and have decided it doesn't deserve to have me for a host. As my body shrinks, I need to make sure my self esteem increases in the same ratio or I will be forever trapped in my Divorced, Fat Girl Mentality. I'm just not going to live that way. Not anymore. Period.

So, I guess in short, I'm going to be bitchy and grouchy and touchy and sad and ill and probably quite unbearable for a few weeks-or as long as it takes me to finish it.

After that I'll decided what to do with it.

Amazing Toes

I just wanted to let the world know that I totally amazed myself today at the gym. I was stretching on the stretch jungle gym after my workout. My leg was up on the bar and I realized that I was leaning all the way down with my hands on the bottom of my shoe. WHA? Holy shit for reals?!! I haven't been able to do that for...well, for forever. Ok, maybe not forever, but for a pretty good clip of time.

What an accomplishment. Go me!! I totally heart Curves!