The real estate deal is still an ongoing ordeal. Maybe culminating in a closing next week, maybe who knows. Oh my hell.
Daughter is getting to be extremely hilarious and I really need to take better notes.
We are all excited about getting our dog in a couple of weeks.
I would rather have the house before the dog.
We had a friend in town last night and today. We went to the best resturant in town for dinner last night. It was good all around. Although, I was just plain HUNGRY all day today and just kept snacking and snacking until I wound up eating (gf) ziti for dinner at 5:30 pm.
Daughter and I made black and white cookies (sugar cookies dipped in chocolate) and then pizza from scratch. We maybe over ate chocolate throughout the day. Damn it was good though.
I biked to and from work Monday and Tuesday this week. I was sorrowfully sore, but felt generally awesome for having done it. I have been wanting to start biking since I took this job and the weather has finally relented. Now I think I am really going to bite the bullet and buy some fancy bike pedals and shoes this summer.
We had some nice weather (nice be REAL WORLD standards, seventies and cloudless) last week and weekend. It was my first weekend in months and months and months with no school, no kiddo, literally no responsibilities.
We bought a lawnmower with my dad and mowed his lawn. And cleaned out all the flower pots and turned the dirt. It rained today. Hopefully everything will blow up green this weekend.
I have a radio interview in the morning and a second one at the same time Friday. That is cool. We have a big event for work this weekend. Hence, the interviews.
So, back two months and five days ago I wrote a post about looking at a house. Two months and three days ago we made an offer on a different house. Yada yada you SERIOUSLY do not want the details, but we are still in the process of buying said house, two weeks past the closing date, no end in sight, and I, well I am still LIVING WITH MY MOTHER.
IN ALL CAPS!
My mother is also the REALTOR!
And the whole thing is a mess! AND I LIVE WITH MY MOTHER, THE REALTOR.
I seem to spend a lot of time SPEAKING IN ALL CAPS TOO.
My coworkers notice. Which is undeniably embarassing.
I have given my coworker very specific instructions about which mental hospital hospital to send me to if I have a visible nervous breakdown while at work. And which one to make sure I DO NOT WIND UP IN NO MATTER WHAT.
I think she thought I was joking.
I hope she was paying attention.
Today really iced the damn cake. Today Boyfriend was im-ing with me while talking to the loan processor, loan officer, back to the loan processor who was setting the closing date for later this week when BING we get an email from the realtor announcing the sellers have YET ANOTHER DAMN PROBLEM and we are delayed. AT LEAST TWENTY DAYS. The fuckers.
Anyway. Boo. Boohoo. Blah blah blah. --- I haven't listened to Leonard Cohen in a long time. I didn't even know who Leonard Cohen was when Boyfriend and I got together.
We dubbed the 'apartment' where he lived then the Chelsea Hotel. Because it would drive someone to do heroin if they lived there long enough I think.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel, you were talking so brave and so sweet,
Because it was old and small and we had a lot of sex there.
And drank tequila. And other stuff. And cooked dinner on hot plates.
A friend called me in the middle of the night there once. She is better now.
I smoked cigarettes inside for the only time in my life there.
I quit being a vegetarian there. By roasting a chicken for Thanksgiving dinner. In a toaster oven.
For a few weeks, when we were just getting together, I slept there. Like a normal person. Who sleeps. For multiple hours on end and then wakes up with enough energy to have sex, go running, and then go to work.
And that was called love for the workers in song probably still is for those of them left.
That was a LONG time ago.
We talked a lot then. We didn't make our relationship public for a long time and we didn't go out and there was no space or furniture or television, so we talked. And we like each other. And we like talking to one another. We would fall asleep and wake up at four just to start talking again.
It was different then.
Although we still eat sushi more than is fiscally practicable.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel you were famous, your heart was a legend.* --- Tomorrow I have to write a statement of professional objectives.
That is intimidating.
My objective is mostly to have a profession. Because I need one. I am pretty convinced that I will have one of those professions that wind up being sucessful and yield a reasonably sizeable 401k. I am ambitious. I am competitive. I like being able to buy stuff and I am tired of stressing out about money. I'll just do it. Whatever "it" is.
Breaking rocks out here on the chain gang
Breaking rocks and serving my time
I will undoubtably spend a large part of that time wishing I could be living a whole different life. I wouldn't much mind a trust fund. Or a rich husband. Or my own winery in the fall with a small cafe that serves gorgeous food out indoors but with big open window walls where you can feel warm fresh air all the time.
I heard the judge say five years
On chain-gang you gonna go
I heard the judge say five years labor
Yeah, but I don't live in Southern California. And I don't go outside that much where I do live. And you can't make wine here or have resturants where window open.
working and working
but I still got so terribly far to go**
I resent faith. I resent people who have faith. Not just in Jesus. Just Faith. Blind belief of good in the universe, that it comes out in the wash, that the right thing happens in the end.
I wish I had that I guess.
Maybe I used to know how to do that. To let go.
Now I fret and spend my nights memorizing the ceiling, or the insides of my eyelids, or listening to my baby sleep when I am so privalidged to be able to hear her snores. Or some combination of the three. Or I read. Or I crack out on the internet or Jon and Kate Plus 8 or bad television in general. Or I just lay in bed because I'm so tired that my whole body aches all the time and laying down is better than sitting up.
Maybe its because I still don't understand the how or the why.
You had and lost the one thing
you kept in a safe place
Maybe its the guilt.
remember the face, the girl who had made you her own
and how you left her alone
Maybe its the fear.
and if you burn the road that'll lead you back to her in time
Daughter loves said house. Has declared it the "NEW MOMMY HOUSE" despite the fact that it is not "lellow" like the last Mommy House.
There is enough room for all four of us (Daughter, Boyfriend, and Boyfriend's Son should he choose to spend any amount of time with us which we are all hoping that he will choose to do.)
Its pretty 80's which isn't a major complement in this town. It needs some work, but some of the big upgrades have been done...the kitchen is very stainless and steely.
Dear, sweet, compassionate Boyfriend who has never in his life bought so much as a decent car, has pretty much signed on to buying this place having only seen a steady stream of photos in an effort to keep me moderately sane. Things have not been going very well in the Current Living Situation/Sanity Department. Not very well at all.
In September, Daughter and I relocated back here. Since that time I have been staying at my parents' house and she has been splitting her time between her Dad's House and here. I think (hope?) that it is challenging for people who have a positive, well-boundaried relationship with their children's grandparents to reside in the same place. We do not have such a relationship and it is more or less hell. Mostly for me. Daughter likes it here, but even she has been asking more and more and more and more about When! there will be! a New. Mommy. House?
There was an incident this past week that really put the last nail in the coffin (pulled the last nail out of the coffin?) of my ability to stay here. It involved my sister and her husband and a bunch of people hiding from me the fact that they were coming for a ten day long visit. Which was difficult. My relationship with those two people was more or less sacrificed on the alter of my divorce and I'm ok with that. We don't like each other. We don't see the world even REMOTELY similarly and we can not find a common, civil ground, but so long as I am staying in this house with my child I feel that I have a right to know who else will be here so that I can judge whether or not I need to make alternative plans for my child and I to maximize our time together and to minimize emotion! and stress! that she may be subjected to if there are people in the house who refuse to look at/speak to/acknowledge the presence of her mother in a room (just for example).
I feel like I was intentionally deceived and that I have no reason to trust my parents. Period. For the last time. So, despite the fact that Boyfriend isn't here yet (will be at the end of April) and that shopping for a house would be a new, interesting thing for him, we have decided that we need to get out of this environment and into something else as quickly as possible.
Hence the house hunting. Please send good karma our way. We really need a break in the weather and a light at the end of the tunnel. At least I do. I need something in my life to tell me that I can hold my shit together. That my long, three year adventure of living in boxes while attempting to raise a well adjusted child will soon be coming to an end. That at long last we can look at each other and say that we are moved into a life with a set course and a real path to follow. (And also a place to hang all my beautiful pots and pans that have been wasting away in storage for months and months and months and months and months and months and months...
I'm not sure I anything interesting to say and I didn't want to use this exclusively as my own personal bitchandmoan space.
Things are not going so well. I suppose they are more or less fine or that this is what it means to make your bed and lay in it or something.
Daughter turned three last month. She remains perfectly delightful and wonderful and is very much looking forward to our trip to Disneyland next month.
Boyfriend moved here (sort of) and then took a new job in the Legislature, so he technically "lives" here but spends the Legislative Session in the Capital City...so he is gone three months of the year. It has been a tough transition. Espicially for me. Patience isn't really a virtue I claim to have perfected and I just keep waiting and waiting and waiting in a fairly toxic environment.
When he gets back in May we are going to go about the process of buying a house. Until then I remain at my parents' house. Which is killing me and not at all particularly slowly.
Also, I got a job.
Its a good job.
It works well for my life.
It is half-time. I work on the days when Daughter is at her Dad's House and am home on the days when she is with me.
I started up my Master's Degree again and am taking two classes. One of which is Microeconomics. Algebra and I do not have a good working relationship. We broke up in the 10th grade and we are not happy to be thrown together again.
I also have a perma-cold. Of the chest and sinus variety. Before she was in pre-school I had one of those more or less magical children who really only rarely had so much as a cough. She and her step-brother started at separate pre-schools the same week in September. We have all been pretty much sick ever since. Between the two of them I feel like I must spend most of my life licking every other child in town. Its disgusting.
Anyway, I am really worn down. I'm having a hard time focusing and getting excited and being in the moment. Or making the most of it. Or just being happy. I get teary reading stories to Daughter. Children's books are not supposed to make you cry in the middle of the day in a coffee shop.
Last weekend was a "Dad Weekend" and I had to be in the Capital for work on Monday and Tuesday, so after I dropped Daughter off at her Dad's House I got on a plane and went to spend the weekend with Boyfriend. I upgraded to first class because I really Could Not Deal with coach and the ticket had been paid for by work. I had a couple of little airplane bloody mary's and proceeded to make it to the hotel room only minutes before competely LOOSING. MY. SHIT. for no fewer than two and a half hours. Just painful, racking, sobbing. Nonstop. For hours. And then I feel asleep for awhile. And then we went out with some friends until later than I had done anything in well over a year.
I am really too old for going out.
It was actually a nice break from all this. The time with Boyfriend was good. We got along and really enjoyed being together and the work stuff was more or less productive and it was good to see what few friends I have. And I love it there.
And here I am.
Tomorrow I am going to write about Daughter watching the DVD that Disneyland sent us. She is supremely excited about the upcoming trip. I got excited for awhile too, watching her light up with anticipation. Now I am just sort of dreading the whole thing though. My parents are taking us all on the trip and I am pretty raw with my parents right now. Yes, yes, that deserves something of an explination as well.
I am going to try an pick this back up again. I think that writing is good for me and having a creative outlet is good for me too. After a facebook/exhusband related incident I am going to try somewhat harder to remain anon here and will not be posting photos. Which really is a shame because I got a helluva great camera for Christmas and I am taking some seriously MommyBlog worthy photos lately.
Also, I have been reading. A Lot. And I want to start writing more about what I am reading. And what Daughter and I are reading...we do A LOT of that too.
I am having a Steel Magnolias sort of a day. I am certain that plenty of people know what that means. All I want to do is curl up under a blanket, put in Steel Magnolias and loose my shit for awhile.
Didn't see that one coming.
I am in Seattle. Staying downtown. I have a car and no plans for hours and zero modivation to do ANYTHING.
I called Daughter, which was, perhaps an err in judgement. She is not happy and so...GUILT!
Christ, you know what it is. Daughter and I would be having so much fun if we were here together. So I feel like an asshole for leaving her at home and I feel like an asshole for not doing anything while I'm here since I'm here and I have no schedule.
Oh! But I've had about six arguments with Boyfriend in the 18 hours that I've been here. Sweeeeeeeeet.