trickydoodle

That's what I am going for here, you know.

Wish me luck and stuff.

So, I was seeing this guy. During the beginning times of my separation with Chris.

Now, I only actually spent time with him in real, actual person twice. The rest was 85% emailing, 5% phone-talking, 10% gmail chatting. Yeah, so not a good way to run a relationship. Text is difficult to decipher. Not, um, literally, but, you know, meaning-wise, tone, inflection, like that. In retrospect, it was dumb. Just dumb. I took this relationship seriously. Though, I just had to force myself to not put the quotation marks around relationship, to emphasize it's complete and utter fakiness.

I was going to explain more but it was getting confusing and really isn't even the point. If the particulars are interesting to you all, I will certainly try to fill in some of the blanks.

But for now, right now, I am just getting that I filled in some of the blanks in who he was all by myself, loosely based on how I approach the life and the people. Funnily, 'most every fight (again, I really wanted to put the quotes around that word) had everything to do with me thinking I knew what he was thinking. Ha! I didn't. And I was nearly always wrong. Oh, and I often used the words "seemed" and "seems," and apparently the way things appear to me is vastly different than perhaps it comes across to the others. Vastly.

I had no idea.

I did guess and assume that the other people basically feel and seem and do pretty much as I feel and seem and do. Turns out, um, no. No, they do not.

So I filled in the blanks and created a much more me-friendly version of him. Worked for a few months, in that emaily, chatty way. And, the second/last time I saw him, it was a very companionable, fun, pleasant visit. After that, it all just fell right apart. He is so not who I wanted him to be. Who I decided he is.

I suppose I needed that, to make up a person. I fell into it pretty hard and fast, and I fell out of it slowly and disbelievingly. Verrry slowly. And it hurt. It hurt down into my bones. You know that hurt.

I also suppose at the time, I was down pretty far myself, so of course I attracted someone else on that level. It felt better at first, but I did grow out of it quickly. Just took me a long, long time to catch up with myself. Still catching up. Will always be catching up.

But looking back, as I have been doing tonight and lately, I am honestly baffled. Confounded, even. Befuddled. Heh. There are many cool words for confused. I'll bet you know a couple, too, don't you?

This isn't exactly what I wanted to write. There is more than this in here. I am so out of practice with the writing.

Bear with me, okay? I need to catch up with myself here, too.

Let's start Sick Friends Network. sickfriends.net.

We'll all sign up, and when we log in we would like get a notice that someone has a sick friend in our region. We then take Fancy Soup to that person, as the faraway friend cannot.

Or, we call it farawayfriends.com. Or something. You can show your friend(s) the love (and the Fancy Soup) and it's also like paying it forward.

What do you think?

We could all become rich and famous. In that entirely selfless way.

Granted, we won't make as much money as whomever invented this:



But we may be more famous. I mean, honestly, we don't even know who designed this baby. Was it one person or a team of Professional Automobile Antenna Accessories Creators? We may never know. But we thank them silently for helping the wacky and the elderly find their cars after shopping.

This spigot is attached to my grandmother's house, right outside her side door. The door we always use.

I was raised in this house, many weekends, most, probably, and the people here loved me and nurtured me like no one else.

But something was terribly wrong, and the one person who knew it wasn't talking.

See, my grandmother always played the victim. She was always wronged by someone. At all times. That person was my grandfather for as long as he was alive. And he just took it, even though he knew we all thought he was unkind to my grandmother. And he was, I suppose, but the dynamic in that relationship was really, uh, crazy, for lack of a better word.

She needled and made digs at him. Her passive aggression was, and still is, fierce and deep-rooted.

(in progress. i feel we are all close enough for me leave part of a draft up here.)

Hours later, they were playing indoors and collided, and my grandmother broke her pelvic bone. She's not doing so well.

I am all crappy. Panicky, anxious, weird.

Has a lot to do with the single momming, I know. It's incredibly hard. Exhausting. It's not that we don't see chris. We see him. Just so not the same. I remember watching the clock, waiting for him to get home from work so I could breathe. I am not breathing any more.

My grandmother is in a rehabilitatiuon center with her broken pelvis. My mom is running herself ragged visiting her before work, during her lunch hour, after work--well into the evening. Like 11pm. And I am not much help. Robbie and I visit her, but it's difficult keeping him interested in the tiny half of my grandmother's shared living space.

My lawn needs to be mowed. Robbie needs a haircut. My house is trashed.

Feels like everything is just so out of control.

My period is a week late.

Stress, probably. Happens to me from time to time. I haven't been eating well or at all.

Thing is, I know better. I know to treat myself better. I know so much.

And yet, I am a total moron.

And I guess the crappy explains why I dyed my hair brown again.





That and the fact it was so many different colors. Red, orange, yellow, brown, grey, root-colored. Not pretty. Though, if I had dreadlocks, it would've looked sweet.