What Can I Say...I'm a nomad

Moving again! I just can't stay in one place. I see this blog as my sad, horrible, family-in-turmoil-&-love-life-on-the-brink-of-disaster blog. And the new one is well...new. But with all my old posts. There's a lot to be said about reinventing yourself. So come on over. Or don't. I'm cool with that.

forsaleorrent.blogspot.com

Grace Under Fire

Mom and Dad took every opportunity to teach me a lesson that would help me later in life. Catching me in a lie when I denied calling my big old third grade teacher, Mrs. Johnson (who was wildly hilarious, by the way, I wish I had a youtube video of her!), a butt hole for giving me my first B, and forcing me to apologize in person to her taught me that name calling and lying are not nice. Not nice at all. Mrs. Tedrow making me stand in the corner after climbing OVER the bathroom stalls with Mary from the Childrens Home in first grade taught me not to get caught. Sitting in the middle of three sets of parents my senior year after throwing a party at my neighbors' house while they were out of town one weekend taught me to respect other people's things. But by having a carefree and, by all accounts, innocent childhood and teenage experience, I was never taught how to recover from regret. Regret 101: How to Experience it and Move on in its Aftermath. But now, after too many fractured friendships, broken lovers, wrong turns, and one night stands, regret is something I can accept. It's something I try my damndest to minimize, but if it shows up once a year, hey--I can work through it.

Now, in my mid twenties, there's one other life lesson that so obviously escaped my childhood, and her name is Grace. Grace dances through hard situations with poise. She laughs in others' trauma and shrugs at her antagonist, Envy. Grace. She's not a friend of mine....yet.

• It's that same lack of grace that had me knee deep in kleenex, crying to my dad because my little sister is going to college and she's got what you'd call a charmed life. She's the baby, y'all. My parents make more money now and she's really got a great set up coming her freshman year of college. New car, new iPhone, new laptop, a college job where she doesn't work weekends and gets off at five and works with mentors that will get her into the vet school of her dreams, and the absence of student loans to boot. Heck, I'd just take the absence of those freaking loans. Did I look on at this scene and smile, glad that I had my journey and feeling so happy for her that she's going to have a better set up than I had? Ooooooh no. I got bratty. And very fucking jealous. What about me?? I can't pay my student loans. I worked almost all my college weekends. I couldn't be involved because my waitressing job required me to work nights too. I learned how to change a belt in my car because it broke down so much....

• My best friend got pregnant (shortly after her divorce) to her rebound boyfriend that happened to be her little sister's EX boyfriend. Did she cry and whine and freak the fuck out? Nope. She took it all--her divorce, new baby, and family ridcule in complete stride. She was humble and quiet and graceful. Inside she really was a mess, but I look back at how she approached the world in the state she was in and I'm amazed. I would have bawled and squawled and pushed everyone I loved away. Until I cried because I was sorry and the real friends came back to aid me in my time of need.

Are there Cliff's Notes for Grace? I need a good amount right now. With all the questions I have concerning her, you know, I'm mostly afraid of the answer to this question: will I evenutally befriend her and learn to use her...or am I just destined to be an emotional child forever?

Things that Go Pppfffffffttttt In the Night

Date number three with The New Guy was a whirlwind of four days. That's right, I said 96 hours. We learned a million things about each other. Some importants were: he was engaged 6 years ago, his credit score is 780, he's been on 19 first dates and not many seconds, and he's a cuddler--superdeduper cuddler. Oh, and the most important: he likes me. Yup.

I spent Saturday with him and we drove by a few houses that he was interested in buying. Because of the dialogue that started and the overwhelming feeling that shadows over a proposed first time home buyer, he freaked and asked if I'd stay until Monday to go look at the houses with him. So I did. So that's Saturday night and Sunday night with him. Then Monday rolled around and we had such a blast together that he practically begged me to stay one more night. So stay is what I did. We went to the store, hand in hand, and picked up a frozen pizza and a movie and went home to cuddle on the couch and veg. It was the best (and longest) third date I've ever had!

But...we spent Saturday night drinking and Sunday night we accidentally got drunk too. So I was having some tummy rumblings on Monday, if you get my drift. And I was with The New Guy every second of Monday so I couldn't escape without him understanding what was going on. And I'm modest, people. M.O.D.E.S.T. My boyfriend of three years never ever caught me going number 2 and if he ever heard me toot, I never knew it. So here I am with this wonderfully thoughful guy, cuddling the heck out of me the entire Monday night (I secretly think it's because he knew it was our last night together for a while), and as I drifted comfortably into REM sleep, I am actually awakened by ppppppffffffftttttt!

Oh God. Oh no. That was me, wasn't it? Oh my God, did his breathing change?? Is he awake?? Oh GAWD what if he woke up at that sound? Oh shoot keep breathing naturally. Play it off.....

I forced myself to relax and go to sleep. And I slept peacefully until Tuesday morning. And then it happened a-freaking-gain!!! It happened again!! ppppfffffffftttttt! So loud, it woke me up.
I was panicked, mortified, shamed. But The New Guy did not stir and he never let on that he heard anything. And honestly, regardless of whether he heard or not, he didn't make fun of me about it and that makes me think he's probably a keeper.

God. I can't believe I did that. It keeps reverberating in my mind.

ppppfffffffftttttt!

This Isn't The End

As words are hard to come by, I feel the necessity to do this for you. For the memory of "us." You ask why I never blog about you and the reason is that you're not just a running character in my "story." You helped mold me into who I am today. It's no stretch to say that you are the most influential person (besides the fam) in my life.

When we got together, me barely 21 and you a traveling bartender five years my senior, we were an odd pair. I was very traditional in my thoughts and dreams, but I was searching for more. You gave me the "more." You opened my eyes to different cultures and ideas and I never had to leave the state to experience the world--your world. I soaked in your life like a sponge. I lived through your eyes and learned so much.

I learned how to be comfortable just as I am. Many times you looked at me being shy or sorry for being me and said, "what are you worried about? It's me." You put me at ease and gave me the allowance to change and grow. No longer am I afraid to question the norm or push envelopes. You gave me the chance to accept the loving, altruistic person I am deep down. And when I acted like a crazy maniac, you loved me through it. Thank you.

I've never seen someone break things down like you do. You get to the center of issues and questions faster than I thought possible. You taught me how to get exactly what I want by asking the right questions. It's an art that you have pretty much perfected...perfected to a fault. You drive me crazy with your simplistic ideas!

What I can't get over and will never forget is the way you eat up life. You take all of it in with one breath and let it all out with the next. No day goes by without you making it all yours. Aaaalllll yours. I always marveled at how you did that...and again, it was the root of a lot of my frustration with you. I couldn't keep up! I couldn't throw caution to the wind like you.

I know our relationship has been in the gray area for about 2 years. Are we together or not? Why do we keep leaning on each other if we're broken up? The truth is that you are my friend. And will be forever. All these words cannot adequately describe just who you are in my life. You are a constant. All I ask is that you allow for us to meld into something new now. Let's let the past stay there, continually being thankful for what we've learned from each other, and move onto a new relationship. I need you. I cannot live without your two cents, your laugh, your insight. But in order for this to survive, we've got to move past the hurt rejection brings.

I love you and I'll love you forever. Thanks for doing exactly what you did and being exactly who you are. You are my precious Cole.

Here's to you. Here's to new beginnings and deep old friendships. Here's to milestones and decisions that our friendship is strong enough to survive.

I went Sailing and I went Home

When I'm away in a city, especially Austin, I feel like I'm home. I dress like I want, act how I want, spend my days exactly how I want. But here's the thing about Austin: No one went home for mother's day. Family members are a distant memory, but friends? They're your real family. Because you can be anything you dream of in a place like Austin, a lot of people are underwhelmed by their overwhelming possibilities. And contentment is not easily found. I love ATX. With all my everliving heart. But on Sunday, when I drove back to my little East Texas town, I wondered: In which world do I fit best? Because my weekend life is full of freedom and eat it up life mentality. It gushes with life is what you make it and seize the day. But my home life is settled and content. This world revolves around a long day of manual labor followed by a beer and a steak. Sweet simplicity. It's the best mother's day ever spent with the entire family sitting around chicken spaghetti and laughing. Playing yard games in our barefeet. Looking at the goats. Drinking Ice Tea and marveling at the life that unfolds easily around you.

If I choose one will I constantly long for the other?


VS


Where will I end up? And will I be truly happy?

PS: I went sailing this weekend on Lake Travis. This day was possibly the highlight of 2009. I spent Sunday with my entire family. We had a great time...as we regularly do (when we're not fighting).

"You Look Really Nice Tonight."

Number 2 was the best ever. The New Guy is amazingly nice. I don't think I've ever dated a text book nice guy and mainly because I thought them too boring. But after Unsweet T, I was begging for a genuinely nice guy. The New Guy is just that, and he's funny!

Highlights

• He commented on how I looked. Nice.
• He told me that our number 1 was his best first date ever. Ever?
• Hand holding.
• Sweet and passionate kisses. We have Chemistry!!
• Forehead kisses. My fav.
• Good cuddles.
• Attentive even when he didn't have to be.
• Got into some topics that were deeper than Date 1.

And just so you don't think he's a total lame ass after all that sweety sweet stuff:

Me: Look at that table of old folk over there. What do you think they'll do after Joe T's margaritas?
TNG: oh, they're gonna get it on. And there's two men and 10 women.
Me: oh Lord. I can just see Gramps taking that hat off and spinning it around his...
TNG: [interrupting] ...Penis.
Me: What?? I was going to say head. What? Oh God now I have a horrible visual.
TNG: haaaahaaaa me too.

Nice guy that's not a prude? Ding ding ding. We have a weiner. Er, I mean winner.

DATE NUMBER TWO WAS A SUCCESS!!!

LADY inJUSTICE

Oh I've been jammin out to the bluesy side of Stevie Ray and I'm feeling so good. At the same time I'm resenting my parents for making me listen to nothing but contemporary christian music my entire life prior to year 17. How could you keep me from this?? How? Oh and Jimmie and Pink Floyd and Elton John and... the crime of it all is that my mom was somewhat of a Dead Head, she hung out with Willie Nelson; she KNEW.

On to the larger injustices of the world...

...Like wrongfully convicted prisoners being exonerated by DNA tests 15 and 20 years deep into their sentences. The system turns them out with nothing. They get to finally claim their innocence, but at what cost?

Oops, sorry for the mistake. Turns out you didn't rape that girl afterall. For your innocence, we punished you in the prison system, treated you like a criminal despite your convincing alibi and allowed things to happen to you that will make therapy a necessary part of your life forever. Only you can't afford therapy because once we let you out, we'll take forever to expunge your files making it difficult for you to find housing, let alone a job, because, hey, we're the system and we don't give a fuck about you or your innocence. The important thing is that we were able to offer the public peace of mind by pinning a horrific crime on someone, anyone. So here we are 15 years later and now you're out. Thanks for everything. What? You'd like some compensation or at least a way to restart your life? Sorry, we don't offer handouts here. Pick yourself up and do the right thing, or you may just end up back here fullfilling the "loser" label we assigned you for the past decade.

Dallas County's DA, Craig Watkins has made it his mission to have convictions with integrity. He's revisited past cases where DNA would exonerate or prove the indictment. And so far he's found 19 people currently serving sentences not guilty. It's an amazing alternative to the regular DA, out for blood, out for a guilty verdict. Problem: his county is the only county in the nation that has a Conviction Integrity division. Private sectors are doing the same thing, but they do not carry as much weight as a DA's office. The only county in the freaking nation! And he's exonerated 19 innocent people so far! Imagine, if just the major counties of Texas (a state that heavily supports the death penalty) took up the same mission. Travis (Austin), Harris (Houston), and the rest of the metroplex. I can't imagine the number of people that will get their lives back.

This kind of thing makes me cry uncontrollably. I sit in my comfy office writing this while they, these innocent men and women, struggle to get a life back from a punishment they didn't deserve anyway. Let down by society once again. We failed them. Their 12 peers got it wrong. Lady Justice was more than blind. Forgotten. Robbed of time. Time that no one can give them back. Thank goodness for the Craig Watkins of the world, but now we need to help these people back on their feet.

Wanna help? Write your govonor or state rep about this.
Visit www.innocenceprojectoftexas.org.

Speak out.

We need more innocent people freed and we need to help them get the lives that were rightfully theirs back.

Give.

Dating Updates plus a little White Trash

I haven't posted much on my super personal life lately. I've included some odds and ends, but nothing too personal on purpose. "Sometimes people just get tired of hearing that shit," I told myself. But by my comment levels lately I'm wondering if I was right. No matter. Your comments don't validate my existence.........

Okay and sometimes I fib a little.

Truth is, after I wallowed in self doubt, self loathing, and self denial, I came out on the other side and started living again. I'm the yes girl, the eat it up life girl, the happy girl again. I've called a truce with Unsweet T in my heart. After all the craziness and me acting totally out of character, it's obvious we are bad for each other. I'm also quite certain he cheated on me while we were together and as much as that was hurting me, I've let it go. I wish him the best with his new girl, but I don't see blue skies in his future simply because of his personal issues. No matter if he really loved me or not, I think I truly loved him as much as I could. So there's nothing more I could have done. I'm no longer keeping score and it feels good!

Got my first blind date ever on Saturday! Lookout! We've emailed back and forth for a couple of weeks and talked on the phone a bit. The New Boy and I have easy banter and we've got quite a bit in common. My nerves are on edge this week thinking about Saturday. Meeting someone on purpose is just....weird. What if there's no chemistry? What if he's not as cute as he was in his pictures? What if he has halitosis? What if he's a serial killer? We're going to the drive in movie and as much as I'm looking forward to it, I'm equally dreading it. I hope it goes okay! I hope there's so much chemistry we can barely focus on the movie... We'll see! Update on Monday (or Sunday if it REEEEEAAAAALLLLY went well!).

This weekend was a huge crawfish boil and skeet shoot. Redneck? Yes sir and I ate it up! I was on my game. Drunken debauchery ensued and a great time was had by all. I think I did half a dozen cartwheels and I kissed that many people too. :) Here's a look at our get together around 2 a.m.W.T.W. Insert: I ran into an acquaintance, Simpson, at the boil. He seemed okay but he was without his new bride (7 months ago they married and she's always telling me what a wonderful man he is).

Me: Hey Simpson! Where's your lady?
Simpson: Well...She done run off with the Schwan's man.
Me: ...........
Simpson: I ain't kiddin'.
Me: [hitting him on the arm] Oh God! You think I'm that naive? I know better than that! [laughing obnoxiously]
Simpson: No really. She ran away with him. And the worst part is that he services our office and I told him a couple of weeks ago to go visit her!
Me: ...........

Wow. Wow. The Schwan's man? As I went looking on the internet for a picture of a big, burly, bald headed, sweaty Schwan's man, all I found was this. And well, if that's what he looks like then I can't laugh. Much. Haaahaaaa!

We Rode

He picked me up in his diesel truck. It was green, a stick shift with four wheel drive; a single cab. I hopped in, relieved that I wouldn't have to bother with the seat belt and we were on our way. The long night of thunderstorms had given way hours before and the heat spurred a humidity that kinked my hair right up. And as we listened to Wade Bowen and splashed through puddles on the two lane state highway, I enjoyed the day. We passed a guy stuck in the mud and stopped to help. The guy was from Houston spending the night on his weekend ranch. His little half ton didn't stand a chance in this sandy soil. Thank goodness for neighbors. We watched him wave in our rear view, his j-crew jeans tucked in the top of his polo mud boots. Without signaling, we get back on the paved road, driving in the middle. My hand is out the window surfing on the wind and the sun shines. We ride through tall oak trees that canopy the road in sweet silence--nothing needs to be said. What'll we do today? Catch some perch? Feed some cows?

Man I love living in the country.

It's driving in the middle of the road, only moving over for oncoming traffic.
It's the old men stopped on the side of the road leaning over their pickup beds and shootin' the shit.
It's the fireflies.
It's walking into the local hardware store and being greeted by ten someones that have watched you grow up.
It's the familiarity.
It's being a neighbor and stopping to help just because you've got time on your hands.
It's Sunday drives down county roads that you know like the back of your hand.
It's county fairs.
It's acres and acres of big old oak trees, goats, and ponds.
It's cowboy boots and overalls.
It's the simplicity of a long day of hard work and a meal with the family around the dinner table.

This is Becoming a Trend

White Trash Wednesday? Why do I continually keep finding pictures in my own camera to fit this day?? Oh well. Enjoy how I spent last Friday.

A friendly craps game. Things to notice in this picture: Lone Star Beer. Brewed in the Home State, pretty gross, but the bottles come with puzzles on the cap that keep us busy for, ahem, hours. Trash bags on the table (??), ashtray, sunflower seeds, the serious looks on everyone's faces. They're winning/losing money, yall!

This is my Big T. I've known him since birth, I guess. Little story: He used to play pool and dance with my mom at the Colonial Club, this trashy little club that Mom and Dad would take me to. I'd sit with Pam, the bartender, stare at her blue eyeshadow, and drink cokes while they were getting their party on. OH WOW, I can imagine how this sounds to you. :) Anyway, now T bottles his very own barbecue sauce and grills the best rabbit you ever did taste.

Ball cap and wife beater...White Trash Wednesday is complete.