tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47570115232229593092024-03-20T07:46:14.181-04:00My Next LifeLizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-56854053561243256612013-12-13T23:20:00.002-05:002013-12-13T23:20:27.796-05:00Color Me FlabbergastedI have to say, I have come to an interesting point of self-revelation.<br />
<br />
My friend L got me this job at the flower shop. It was a call out of the blue. A random, <i>oh yes! I need a job...what? Sure I can come in today, I have no other plans...</i><br />
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And then a mad scramble to re-do my plans...<br />
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It took a while to settle in and I have to say, with my friend L working there and being so obviously unhappy, it was a stressful situation for sure. But she and I had been friends for a while and I stuck it out because she put in a good word for me and I needed the job.<br />
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L ended up leaving for a job that better suited her and honestly, my life became easier. My work situation lost a lot of the stress and after a tentative, albeit brief, trial-of-loyalty, I proved myself to be exactly what my boss needed. She described me as the "glue that holds us all together". Which was fine with me. At the time.<br />
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I've been there almost two years now and wow, how things have changed. I had a chance to talk with my boss about things and she told me she hired me, not just because of my friend L but because I have been at my other job for 17+ years and that I have gardened all my life and I had a hops yard at my friend's farm.<br />
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I told her I wanted the job originally because I have never had the opportunity to explore the creative side to myself.<br />
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Suddenly I find myself creating arrangements that are being quite well received. I don't in any way consider myself a designer yet but I feel like someday I will legitimately be able to call myself one. I have the faith and confidence of who I consider the best designer in the Mid-Atlantic, telling me that my creations are beautiful and she's putting her name behind everything that goes out the door.<br />
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It's hard work, the pay sucks and I couldn't be happier.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-55917722735399379392013-12-08T18:50:00.000-05:002013-12-08T18:50:23.555-05:00Time. It gets away.I think I have officially bored myself with this blog. I feel like...grrrrrr<br />
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I feel like screaming. And maybe throwing stuff too.<br />
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This fucking laptop just deleted everything I wrote and I have no idea what I did.<br />
<br />
<<<<Breathe>>>>><br />
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And now I'm afraid to get back so I will not try and remember what I wrote and will forge on...<br />
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My 24-year old daughter and I took an awesome road trip last weekend to, believe it or not, Cleveland, OH. She won tickets to a Browns game so we drove up and had a leisurely weekend strolling the streets of downtown Cleveland and staying in a hotel (rather than my parents' house). We managed to sneak in and out in between storms so the timing was perfect.<br />
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The Browns, however, continue to break our hearts.<br />
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Oh, and today we got 7.5 inches of snow. While I was out watching the weekly heart-break that is my favorite team, someone came along and shoveled my sidewalk and walkway to my front door. I have no idea who to thank for that but it was probably not the two drunk guys who offered to shovel a path for me while I was walking home this evening.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-11603966848860626972013-10-10T23:51:00.000-04:002013-10-10T23:51:26.750-04:00Hey Hey, My MyYeah, it's been a while. Once again, I forgot to see where I left off before I started this so I apologize if I repeat myself. Did I tell you I got hit by lightning? Again? So I have a lap top now. And all of my old pictures and important legal documents are all on an external hard drive now. Thankfully I have a kid who knows how to put them there. Sadly, I have no idea how to access them if I need them.<br />
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Remember back when my ceiling caved in during Hurricane Sandy? We are in the midst of some good hard rains now and when I got home from work, I soon recognized that sickening drip...........drip, drip.....drip..dripdrip and my heart sunk. Because I have the best landlord and I hate giving him bad news. Of course the alternative is to own this house and have to deal with this myself. I choose plan A.<br />
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You know, apart from having to learn a whole new keying system with this laptop (I hate it, quite frankly), I am pretty darn happy these days. I think I may finally have figured out the secret to being alone and happy. I think you actually have to be happy while alone. Simple really. But not so easy.<br />
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There is a sense of peace once that sweeps over you. Once you realize, hey, I've got my shit together and I am in the driver's seat of my life. Both of my jobs are going great and I'm learning a whole new creative side to my personality and abilities I never knew I had. And everything feels right. Because I think I may have found what my right-sized life is. It's simple. It's uncomplicated. And I finally get to put myself first. (Plus I occasionally sneak out of town and no one has a clue where I am. And that is pretty damn cool.)Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-52361875064978107682013-07-12T20:38:00.000-04:002013-07-12T20:38:05.762-04:00I ApologizeI hate to sound so bitchy. I really do. There are some good things in my life and while I miss hanging out with certain friends of mine, I am very happy that they are happy. I really mean that.<br />
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I miss so many people. <br />
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But my days are filled and for the most part things are going pretty well. I love both my jobs. I just signed a lease for my third year in this house. That's important to me because at least my home base stays stable and constant. I couldn't ask for a better landlord.<br />
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Speaking of my house, my cable got hit by lightning for the second time since I've lived here. Last month, I heard the exact same pop and fizz that happened when I got hit soon after I moved in. This time my old trusty desktop just couldn't take the punishment and refused to be resuscitated. I'm now typing on a new laptop and quite frankly, I don't like it. But, it was what I could afford at a time when I really didn't need an added expenditure. This time, I told my landlord about it, since this house is the only one in the row of rowhouses that has been affected. Hopefully he can figure it out. Or he can perhaps hire a kid who can explain it to the both of us.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-14494374114767317652013-07-11T21:14:00.000-04:002013-07-11T21:14:08.306-04:00Still Waiting......although I am getting smart enough to realize that that good mojo is not happening any time soon.<br />
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Knowing that gives me some control over the situation. I guess.<br />
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It's interesting, this world of ours. The things we notice from different perspectives are, well, different. When I was part of a couple, I never realized how couple-centric everything was. But hey, as a single woman, I notice it all...the 2-for-1 world we live in is so geared towards couples and dates and gahhhh...<br />
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I am increasingly becoming the third wheel in so many aspects of life. From the lovely family beach photos on Facebook (which I am starting to resent...I mean really. How many fucking pictures of your vacation at the beach am I supposed to look at and pretend that I am happy for you? I sense a mass un-friending about to happen) to the ever insistent bargain deal at Applebees/Olive Garden/Friday's nastiness promoting shared apps and desserts.<br />
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I'm so tired of being surprised by all of this. I shouldn't be. I've been single long enough to know all this. But lately...lately it has been harder. My single divorced girlfriend, who I had a ton-o-fun with has a new boyfriend and I never see her anymore. Even my daughter who I love to hang out with a couple times a week has a new boyfriend. At least he likes me and we get along great but I don't want to be that pity inclusion anymore.<br />
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The funny thing is...I don't want a boyfriend. I want my fun girlfriends to hang out with again.<br />
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I might change my mind about that boyfriend thing. Someday. Once I find someone who can prove not all men are assholes. I'm not that desperate to join the couples world.<br />
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<br />Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-32407556840376968602013-05-22T19:44:00.001-04:002013-05-22T19:44:10.194-04:00I Need Some Good MojoThey say bad things come in threes. Or is it celebrity deaths only? I think it's all bad things so I am sticking with that. Can they also come in multiples of threes? Or like, say, three days/weeks/months/years in a row?<br />
<br />
I need some good news. Some good happenings.<br />
<br />
On Mother's Day, I was walking with my daughter in sandals and in an unfamiliar part of town and while I was talking, I tripped over an uneven sidewalk and landed on my wrists and knees. One knee split open and is taking forever to heal. The other just bruised nicely. My hands are another story. They hurt like a sum'bitch. I haven't had a chance to rest them at all.<br />
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I work in the flower shop, you may recall, and the past three weekends have been crazy what with First Saturday (Mayfest) in Frederick in which every merchant in town gave away a free flower in a "build-a-bouquet" progressive shopping deal. Guess who opened all those boxes and cut in the thousands of flowers for the pleasure of being harassed all day for a fucking free flower from a Flower Shop. Dudes, all those free flowers you have in your hot little hands? Yeah, those ones right there...I touched every damn one of them but this here is our livelihood. Shit here ain't free. Go away.<br />
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Oy.<br />
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Then there was Mother's Day and the beginning of wedding season the next weekend. Plus, a funeral.<br />
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Then yesterday, after spending about 5 hours pulling weeds in the hops yard (by hand, lest we break any of the new growth) and just about crying from the pain in my hands, I got hit by a deer heading home= on a twisty county road in rural Pennsylvania. And I know I had to have been squeezing the crap out of that steering wheel as I was sure that poor thing was being dragged under my car. So yeah, more hands drama.<br />
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I finally got to the only service station in the area about 10 minutes after the accident. I did inspect the car at the scene and to my surprise saw the doe running off in to the woods. It didn't seem too bad until I got out again at the station and saw all sorts of things that had the potential to fly off the car on the highway home. A very nice truck driver helped me bungee up the car and tomorrow I go for the estimate and probably a rental car.<br />
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Also, I did not win Powerball.<br />
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Wait, <i>that is three</i>. Maybe I'm due for an upswing.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-56666175188118916442013-05-07T23:06:00.002-04:002013-05-07T23:06:53.568-04:00Gingerly, walkingI tell ya. I've never, ever experienced a situation like the one I had tonight.<br />
<br />
Dude, I don't even know.<br />
<br />
So...I have this friend who is under massive stress. And also, I've been there.<br />
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This person means the world to me but his flat out, bat shit attack on me has made me wonder...I mean...do I fucking have to deal with this again?? I am reeling with the events of the evening.<br />
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So, what does that say about me? <br />
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How much am I supposed to accept? I think I know the answer. I just don't want to make the decision to end it. I think I have to, but it is not what I want.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-80247666889449654472013-04-11T22:30:00.001-04:002013-04-11T22:30:35.966-04:00Hey, Hey, What Can I Say?I admit it. I miss so many things about my former life. No, not the drama and the targeted abuse. But I dearly miss my garden. I had a fairly well established garden that was pretty "edible landscaped" inspired. By the time I left there, I was well on my way to a decent asparagus patch, a prolific blueberry garden and all the bees, birds and butterflies that wanted to hang out were welcome.<br />
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I suppose I should be happy that my ex's girlfriend is a gardener. No, I don't suppose. I am actually quite happy about that. For how destructive he was (burn, baby, burn) I am glad he at least picked a woman who can carry on with what I started. And run with it. Lord knows, she needs all the distractions she can get. By all accounts, she seems to understand what I started.<br />
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The flower shop job satisfies a bit of that. Going to my friend's farm will hopefully do a better job at that this year. Either way, it will never be the same. It just won't. I'm going to have to find a new way to satisfy that part of me. Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-5120135242178828962013-03-30T23:52:00.000-04:002013-03-30T23:52:30.608-04:00Noisy I've discovered something pretty darn wild.<br />
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Back when I lived in the woods, early on, I spent so much time paying attention to the sounds of the wild. I remember soon after I moved in there, I almost called 911 after hearing what I thought was a woman being assaulted deep in the woods. Once I paid attention, I realized it wasn't human at all and it and was moving at such a fast rate along the creek that it had to be some sort of mating call/ritual. I'm thinking bobcat/fox. I never did figure it out exactly.<br />
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The funny thing is, I didn't realize how much I really did not hear actual human voices there until I moved back in to town. When I lived in the woods, I heard birds in unison. In town, I hear them one by one. (Which helps me when I lie in bed on weekend mornings, identifying them by their unique voices.) Same goes for squirrels. I'm not quite at the point of naming the critters but when I do, they will have names like "Yappy", "Squeaky" and "Get off my porch ".<br />
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I told you about the bat in my house right? I can't remember...but in 11 years in the woods, I never had a bat in the house. In the city? Yup. That was a wild night.<br />
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So, back to voices. I think the hardest part about moving back in to the city was getting used to the voices of people. Just the ordinary conversations. People walking by, talking. The mrrmmmrrrmmmrr through the walls of the row houses. The laughter, the screaming, the day-to-day unrelenting chatter. And I thought I was going to lose my mind, just a little bit.<br />
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When Emily was living with me, she named the neighbors (Smoking Guy, Lady with 7 kids from 4 different fathers, Naked guy with open curtains, Grandma on the porch all day...) and I was fascinated by her insight because I was trying to tune them all out. They were all Noisy Neighbors and I heard them all in unison. Now I am learning to hear them one by one.<br />
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But something else...I've also learned to not hear them. Today, my neighbor was out screaming his head off at another neighbor and I think it had been going on for about 5 minutes before the message got to my brain that there was a commotion and maybe I should pay attention. It was sort of entertaining in a way.<br />
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A week ago I texted my daughter that she moved out and is missing all the excitement up here on the North end of town. Firetrucks, ambulances, police cars, and she said "go out and see what is going on" and I was all "eh, I'm taking a shower but I hear some guy out there screaming about how much it hurts" and she was all "Go investigate!" and I said, "nah, I'm naked and getting in the shower" and then she said "perfect, you can cause another accident!"<br />
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She has my sense of humor...<br />
<br />
(As it turns out, some 20 year old woman got in a fight with her baby daddy and when he got out of the car, she sped up, jumped the curb and hit him with her car then sped off.)<br />
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I didn't think I could get used to all the human voices when I first moved in here. Turns out I can...and then some.<br />
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(His injuries don't appear to be life-threatening.)Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-15451869570925396292013-03-22T22:38:00.000-04:002013-03-22T23:00:46.840-04:00DoppelgangerThe other night, my daughter and I went to a bar that I never go to...it's been open for about a year and I think I have been there about 3 times. Ever since she has moved out, she's been trying to decide what her new local bar will be. (Seriously, she moved about 10 blocks south of here. Pretty much all of downtown Frederick is your local bar but I'll play along.) We hadn't been there for a minute and a half but, while I was talking to a friend of mine, I realized the bartender was, sort of, talking to me only he was calling me "Barbette". Which, of course I don't answer to Barbette. But I wanted a beer so I'm inclined to notice when the bartender is nearby and as soon as I turned my head to give him my order, I could see the disappointment that I was not, in fact, Barbette. And then he told me how I was not Barbette (as if I may not know that) and then decided to get on with his job of gettin' me that beer.<br />
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About 45 minutes later, I'm walking back from the bathroom and a woman at the bar yells at me, "Hey Barbette! Hi!" And then when I look right at her she says (you guessed it) "Oh, you're not Barbette, but wow! You look so much like her!" And all I can think is damn, what sort of mom names a kid Barbette? And also? Now, I have to see this woman who two separate people mistook me for in one hour long period in a bar in Downtown Frederick Maryland.<br />
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I have to now wonder about an incident that happened the previous weekend (the same day Red Beard thought I was pregnant). I went to the flower shop where I work. It was a Sunday and my friend Lisa was working the boutique side (the flower shop is not open on Sundays) and I knew she would be bored. Plus I needed her to tell me I did not, in fact look pregnant. Anyways, she had a spurt of customer activity so I hung out in case she needed me or needed to use the bathroom or what have you and this one woman came in and sort of started a conversation with me only it was kind of like a fishing expedition. She finally said, "I know I know you from somewhere..." and then rattled off all the improbable ways she could know me. Me: No, I am not in a band, No, I don't go to Hagerstown to watch bands. No, I'm pretty sure that I was not involved in that...<br />
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And then she said, "I know we will see each other again someday". <br />
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That crazy Barbette. I hope she is some smokin' hot 30 year-old babe that people keep calling "Liz". But wouldn't that mess up her day if we ever meet and she finds out Liz is a 50 year-old mother of two? Yeah, not likely, but this is my blog so I get to make up that ending.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-11480846500647587992013-03-10T22:57:00.002-04:002013-03-10T22:57:57.963-04:00So, here we goToday, in the span of about 2 minutes I went from way up here to way down there. That's a bit of an exaggeration and so you are warned. It was a beautiful day today and I guilt-ed myself in to getting up and at 'em because all I did yesterday was lie around bra-less in sweat pants, watching sappy movies on the Hallmark Channel. Prior to yesterday, I didn't know the Hallmark Channel existed. But I was in that sort of mood. Actually, I did go for an appointment at 9AM and then got a pedicure so it wasn't all a lost cause and okay, yeah...I was hungover and so the Hallmark Channel was the result of the remote being wayyy over there and I'd already taken my bra off and the blanket...the COUCH blanket was somehow positioned just so and, well, I'm sure you get the idea.<br />
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So, today. I got up, all fresh from all the rest I got and realized I could not waste another day, another nice early March spring tease of a day, bra-less in my sweat pants on the couch. I even decided to shave a few things.<br />
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I got out my old skinny jeans, a black t-shirt with sparkles on it (I am not a sparkles-type girl..this was a donated item), a black sweater and some super cool boots I own (read:comfortable, but also cute) and set out to do a few things but not a whole lot of anything. I got about three blocks in and a dude did the 'ole, <i>hey...you look good...</i><br />
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I did what any normal 50-year old would do which is to first check...are you talking to me?? Then the hahaha, of course you were, I <i>do</i> look good. And hey, thanks! Swagger, swagger.<br />
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You know none of that happened, right? Except the <i>hey, you look good</i> and the <i>thanks</i>.<br />
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A block and a half later, I saw one of Frederick's homeless, Red Beard and asked him about his health and made sure his cane was near-by and as I turned to continue on down the street he shouted at me "hey! Your're pregnant??!!"<br />
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I am throwing away the black sweater.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-8421451021310031792013-02-26T10:20:00.000-05:002013-02-26T10:20:10.462-05:00UpdatingSo...where was I? I removed the last post I wrote because it was such a downer. Sure, I have downer moments but I don't want to give the impression that my life is in any way reflected in a negative way. Every day can be whatever I want it to be. That in itself can be a bit daunting, or at least it was when I started this whole process but I have mellowed and am now very comfortable with the new, day-to-dayness my life has become.<br />
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It's hard for me to believe that I have lived in my new rental house for over 20 months now. There is something so carefree in it. I take care of the basic needs the house has but when I have any problems, I call my most excellent landlord and dump the mess in his lap. I'm pretty sure I never wrote about how, when Hurricane Sandy swept through the area, my whole ceiling over my staircase caved in, after hours of me using every bucket and bowl to collect the water from the many leaks (and keeping my landlord up to date at the same time). Quick tip that I learned from necessity: if you are ever faced with a leak that requires several buckets at once, to avoid going ape-shit insane from the variety and randomness of the drip...Drip...DRIP...drip..dripdrip...(arggghhhhh!), tear up an old sheet or towel and put a piece in the bottom of the bucket to muffle the sound. It helped me to get a bit of sleep before the whole thing caved in. That was a fun night.<br />
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The next morning though, my landlord was here with a shop-vac and a roofer was on the way. So, that was cool.<br />
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My oldest daughter has been living with me since she has returned from the army, four years earlier than expected. She has had a rough time of it during this transition and we have had our ups and downs as roommates but she seems to be pulling herself up and out of it and has made a new plan, one that I think will be very good for her. She has found half a house to share and will be moving out mid-March. I'm happy for her and will miss her. But she'll only be about 10 blocks away so we will still be able to hang out a lot.<br />
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If you know me at all, you'll know that I have a thing for puzzles. Always have. Now I am beginning to understand the reasoning behind it all. I like for the pieces to all fall in to place. I like to restore order from chaos. I like to see the big picture and have it make some sense.<br />
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I finally feel like I am on my way there.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-9723770725776420792013-01-12T00:19:00.000-05:002013-01-12T00:19:38.618-05:00Officially OfficialIt's done. I went through the legal process of changing my name back to my maiden name. On Tuesday I got my new driver's license and changed my bank account. I'm a little overwhelmed by all the things that need changing still but I can honestly say I never wavered once I made this decision.<br />
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It's a little strange though. This feeling of in-between-ness. A lack of identity. Sure, this name was mine, the one I was born with but still, I haven't had it since 1985. I had it for less time than I had my married name. Learning a new signature was weird. My new-old name is harder to say than my married name. I see it written and it's familiar enough. My siblings and my parents all have it.<br />
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And yet, now at 50, I'm looking at my name on my new driver's license and the god-awful picture is not of me at 22, the last time I had that name on a driver's license. It's a 50-year old woman who checks the 'yes' box that her height and weight are still the same. I've been checking that box through several licenses so it must be true, right? In the larger scheme of things, 10 pounds isn't really that big of a deal.<br />
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Good thing I'll have this license until 2020. Is that a real date in time? I never knew Maryland had licenses that lasted 7+ years but I figure when I renew on my 58th birthday in 2020, I'm pretty sure I'll still weigh the same.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-58435269607645835452012-10-07T19:07:00.002-04:002012-10-07T19:07:56.818-04:00I'm ReadyMy Dad called me earlier in the week. Normally most people would think that wasn't such a big deal, but when my Dad calls me, it is. He's usually the one who asks my Mom to call me and she relays back to him whatever is my answer. Every once in a while though, he calls me and I pay attention. His birthday is later this month and that may be why he suddenly is emotional and all mooshy.<br />
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He told me how he thinks about me every day and that, while his mind is sharp, his body is not-so-much and that he doesn't want to "go to the great beyond worrying about me. Even though I am 50 years old, he thinks of me as his little girl". We left it at "Dad, you can worry about me. I can't stop you. But please, don't <i>fret</i> about me. I'm much better now than I was this time last year."<br />
<br />
He seemed OK with that.<br />
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My Dad is the sort who shows his love with gifts and financial help. While I was married, I can honestly say I never asked for any help at all from him but he always sort of knew when I was close to the edge of some sort of financial crisis. Probably my ex getting laid off again was a good clue. And my Dad never failed to offer help just when I needed it most.<br />
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He helped with the mortgage, the girls' tuition, a new van when the rear wheel drive one I was driving couldn't get up the driveway in winter. He offered art work he tired of to fill the walls when I moved in to a place that had lots of walls and higher ceilings than I'd ever had before.<br />
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When both girls were born, he gifted them money to start a college fund and added to it every birthday and Christmas. My oldest got to enjoy the benefits of 4 years of college at a state school and graduated with no debt. My youngest has a father who pillaged her college account to the tune of about $25,000-$30,000 in less than 6 months and now she struggles on a day-to-day basis trying to deal with the knowledge that a) her father ruined a future that she was guaranteed at birth and b), see a.<br />
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Back in August 2011, I had the option of changing my name as a part of the divorce and in my heart, I knew I wasn't ready to make that decision. I had had my married name longer than my maiden name and my kids had my same last name and I agonized and spoke to everyone I knew who had been through this and I ultimately decided I would keep the status quo and I could always go back and change it at some other time.<br />
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Fast forward to this past week when my lawyer forwarded to me correspondence that my ex had sent her...the most condescending load of crap I had the misfortune of reading and he closed his email with a derogatory comment about my parents, people who had helped us in our marriage and loved him as a son for 28 years and here he had the audacity to bad mouth them all while asking me for a "favor".<br />
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And it all became clear. The man who has stuck by me, loved me and even still to this day worries about me even though I am 50 years old has proven to me what the true character of a man is.<br />
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I'm changing my name back.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-22440175120670177612012-09-18T22:42:00.000-04:002012-09-18T22:42:00.595-04:00The Water's FineI have spent quite a few years of my life trying to be a collector of this or that. Usually it starts with gusto and then comes to a fizzling hissssss...<br />
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Case in point (long time readers of the other blog may even remember this). My painted birdhouse collection.<br />
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Last I saw of them, they were in a picture on top of a soon to be aflame bonfire. Peach of a man I divorced, no? What did I expect from a man who gave away all my clothes though, really.<br />
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I have also tried to be a hobbyist of some sort. Gardening was a way of life that I suppose could be called a hobby. I have over the years attempted candle making, latch hooking, crossword puzzling (and really, all the puzzles are just what I do for sanity so I don't call them hobbies.)<br />
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A few weeks ago though, I made beer with my best friend Mike from the hops we grew on his brother's farm. Now really, what can be better than combining a hobby (growing) with a collection (er, empties on my counter?)? And so it went! And it was spectacular. We made 6 cases and will now home brew smaller batches with the knowledge that we gleaned from the experts at the local help-you-brew place.<br />
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And I am thinking I may want to try and make wine now. Anyways, a tiny spark has been lit.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-77293109347430463282012-09-07T23:48:00.003-04:002012-09-07T23:48:46.737-04:00So, How Are You?I have a new post, all written and ready to go and for the first time in my life I am holding back on publishing it. I need to make sure all my facts are straight, lest I hurt one of the ones I love the most. I may just get enough satisfaction in the writing of it.<br />
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So I have this new job and have been busy there. No news on the relationship/love life but that's OK. I'm no where near ready for that. I need to one day assume not all men are assholes but I am no where near ready to admit that.<br />
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Next Thursday the 13th I turn 50. 50. Fifty. Fif-ty. 5-0.<br />
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Whoa.<br />
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I am definitely NOT my mother's 50.<br />
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I feel good. Based on the many comments that people love to give over the course of a day, I think I look good.<br />
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At least my hair isn't falling out from stress.<br />
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Speaking of hair...I lost my hair virginity last week. Did I tell you about this lovely conversation with my Mother? I think I may have.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Her: Let me know when you get those highlights.<br />Me: Mom, what highlights?<br />Her: I though you said you were getting highlights in your hair?<br />Me: No, I never said that!<br />Her: Well, you need to decorate the bait!</blockquote>
As if I...need, er...help from my Moth...OK I DID IT!<br />
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I admit it and also I did not do it to cast bait to reel anyone in but I really do like it and the reaction from people has been varied from "you look so well rested after your trip to the lake" or "have you lost weight?" A couple streaks of blond hair is so fucking <i>powerful!</i>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-19818909852739188992012-07-16T20:16:00.001-04:002012-07-16T20:16:29.589-04:00It's Been a WhileIn fact, it's been so long, Blogger went and changed their format so the dashboard looks very similar to Wordpress (once I remembered my sign-in, that is).<br />
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It has been an interesting couple of months. I got a new, 3rd job to go along with the two I already had. The two I already had were fitness jobs (that I have done for the past 16+ years) and I was so hoping I wouldn't have to quit those. I love my older folks and the group is so spectacular to work with. It took a while but I found a job that is completely unrelated to fitness but is just as physically demanding. I could not work behind a desk for 8 straight hours, even if you paid me :).<br />
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The new job is working in a flower shop that is attached to a high end boutique. It's in downtown Frederick so I can walk to that job as well. I work on the flower shop side and will be learning how to make bouquets on demand for customers as well as boutonnieres, bouquets and centerpieces for weddings etc...I have already done some things that were incorporated into various parties and weddings and as far as I know, no one has complained at their amateurishness. My boss is pretty demanding in that anything not up to par would be re-done anyways.<br />
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My oldest daughter has been living with me since her discharge from the army. She started a new job last month and is starting to look for an apartment. I've told her there is no rush and that she can take her time to find a nice, safe place to live. We spent the day yesterday in DC after looking at a promising apartment in NW, then found some nice dive bars amongst the ritzy hotels of Dupont Circle to chill in for lunch and cocktails. Fun times.<br />
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I'm continuing to meet some very interesting people and am slowly learning how to trust people (or at least whom not to trust). I've been burned once since my divorce and I am learning how not to make that same mistake. I've made it a priority to nurture the friendships I've made with women. It's interesting. Women in our forties are just not as bitchy to each other as women in our 20's. Well, I should say, I've learned to spot the bitches and steer clear of them. I feel strong and confident. More so than I have ever felt in my entire life.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-72673820103326413232012-05-05T01:17:00.001-04:002012-05-05T08:11:24.254-04:00Heron NowI've been obsessed with the <a href="http://www.livestream.com/cornellherons">Heron nest</a> cam at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. For many weeks now, I haven't been able to get enough of those birds. I got to see the 4th egg laid and the 5th egg hatch. I've watched the videos of the owl attacks and my heart raced even though I knew everyone was OK well in advance of watching it.<br />
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It's pretty sweet, seeing how the Great Blue Heron couple works as a team, taking care of first the eggs and now the chicks. It's been unseasonably hot in NY this week and the way the parents stand over the chicks in the path of the sun, shielding them from the heat from the sun is just so sweet.<br />
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So, this time of year is weird. I want to plan and plant but I can't. So what did I do instead? I signed up for a <a href="http://toughmudder.com/">Tough Mudder</a>. (noisy site so <b>be warned</b>.) I know. Insanity. I've started training and changed the way I eat and am working with an acupuncturist and a chiropractor to alleviate the chronic issues from stress that have manifested as pain in my body. The Tough Mudder is 5 days before I turn 50. I think it's safe to say that this is going to be a life changing event. It's going to be 10X more <a href="http://www.lizfrog.blogspot.com/2010/08/ill-assume-they-were-bored.html">Roar-worthy</a> than other things I have done and I intend to take it very seriously. If nothing else, it's a fund raiser for the Wounded Warriors. Which? How can you find fault in that?<br />
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In other news:<br />
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I have daughter #1 back home. She is on the job hunt, or will be eventually after globe trotting all over the place getting re-acquainted with her old, non-army friends.<br />
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Daughter #2 just finished her first year of college and has a job at a restaurant on the Eastern Shore and loving her 3 kittens that her cat had. If she knew this site existed, I'd say "fix those cats, A!"<br />
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As for me, I'm even more aware how women need to be there for each other. I fucked up this week and let some people down. People that I care deeply about and all I can do is hope they forgive me. Thankfully I have made some good friendships with women and one in particular reassured me, after I told her the whole story tonight, that I didn't do anything so terrible that it can't be repaired. I thought so too, but time will tell. I hate feeling like this. I don't like feeling like I let people down. But until they talk to me, I won't know exactly how much damage I have done.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-30685298277051628482012-04-08T10:24:00.003-04:002012-04-08T10:59:41.472-04:00Hermit<span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Every first Saturday of each month, my town has a themed street festival. Most shops stay open later than usual and restaurants are packed full of locals and tourists alike. Since I moved downtown, I haven't attended a single one of them.</span></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I didn't really understand why. I mean, all I have to do is walk a couple blocks and I am there. I do that walk all the time but for some reason, the idea of walking down there during any "event" just paralyzes me.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">It's not the walk itself of course. It's the idea of wandering through large groups of friends and families stretched the width of the sidewalk. Of negotiating past lovers holding hands and laughing together, young parents pushing strollers and keeping toddlers entertained.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">This morning, I realized I haven't left my house since Friday afternoon. I've just hung out, reading my library books and cooking meals for one. I'm getting much better at being alone but sometimes, the </span>loneliness<span style="font-size: 100%;"> can be crushing. Still, I'd rather be lonely and alone than lonely living with someone who ignores me. There is always that.</span></span></div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-28687557029422671902012-03-31T00:31:00.002-04:002012-03-31T00:43:00.908-04:00It's Hard to Focus On Just Me......when I used to blog about 3 other people, 2 dogs, 2 goats and occasional cats.<div><br /></div><div>Not to mention my garden. This is the first time in 30+ years I haven't had a garden to plan, plot, nurture, tend to. Then plant, weed, pluck and basically figure a way to keep the damn goats out of there.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not asking for a garden at someone else's place. I'm not saying I necessarily need one. Maybe I do. Not here where I live though. I worry that my old asparagus patch has done nothing but been sent to fern. I wish I could have donated my finally fruitful blueberry bushes to someone who would have appreciated them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't even get me started on how much I miss composting. I've done the city plot composting before and needless to say, I'm pretty sure my new-ish neighbors don't want me attracting rats.</div><div><br /></div><div>I want to know how my crocus did, how my daffodils spread, how my Nanking Cherry bushes have fared during this unseasonably early spring. If the deer are eating everything, if the bird feeder is getting filled. </div><div><br /></div><div>I want to know that everything I did in my life before has meaning...</div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-29223516477469655792012-02-29T19:06:00.002-05:002012-02-29T19:19:18.473-05:00ShiftSo, I almost forgot this blog existed. I think I have vented and purged as much as I can here and so now we shift gears a bit. I am done dwelling on the past. The past is done, over, and I am ready to move on. <div><br /></div><div>A good friend asked me recently if I wouldn't be happier to have a boyfriend. Someone who is local, and ready to become part of my life. The answer is, um, NO! It's not to say that if someone came along who was nice and interesting that I wouldn't consider going out with him. Guaranteed though, the first time he asked me why I didn't answer his text right away I'd lose it and tell him to get lost, controlling bastard.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have met a ton of new people, none of whom ever knew me as a wife, mother, sister or daughter to anyone and that has been awesome. Right now, I feel like the most good I can do for myself is to nurture the female friends that I have made. Believe me, I thought I had some good local ones before, but nothing says seriously? you've lost your touch on the judge of character thing when they all disappeared as soon as I needed them most.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have made some great new women friends over the past 8 months and while I miss my old friends (the college ones that I don't get to see that often), it helps me to get through most days knowing I have this new, local support system. Let's face it, women can be the best medicine for each other. Just stay away from the bitches! :)</div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-33445867074385830182012-01-30T22:43:00.002-05:002012-01-30T22:56:36.488-05:00Sweet EmotionOne of the hardest things for me to have learned about myself through all this intense counseling is that I am an all-or-nothing, do-or-die, black-and-white perfectionist procrastinator.<div><br /></div><div>That's a helluva-lot to digest.</div><div><br /></div><div>Especially once one realizes it is indeed all true.</div><div><br /></div><div>(I just looked out the window, swung side to side in my chair [that I put together, ROAR!] and took a deep breath, heavy sigh combo)</div><div><br /></div><div>The theme this week was: emotions. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't getting the A-Ha! moment that I wanted from all the goddammed crying I was doing last week. And while my counselor today was explaining to me about how my dominant logical self wants resolution to every! damn! thing! that comes up...my super-suppressed Emotional side is clamoring for someone, anyone to recognize she exists. </div><div><br /></div><div>So blubber away, emotional side. I see ya, and I'll raise ya. Because now I know the secret. I can let you and your emotions into the pool, but I know now where the ladder is so that I can climb out. I'll meet you at the Balance Beam...</div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-73854117096183243102012-01-26T21:52:00.003-05:002012-01-26T22:12:51.907-05:00In The Mean TimeI am able to handle quite a bit. I've lived through a nightmare of false accusations and punishments for someone else's imagination. I can suffer with the best of 'em and still come out the other side relatively whole. I am way stronger than I ever thought I could be and I have managed to survive an exhaustively gut-wrenching series of counseling sessions that would fell most people.<div><br /></div><div>And yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am naive. I am innocent. I like to think I am a good judge of character. I am (apparently) not. I trust people when they tell me things. I believe them when they say they are going to do whatever it is they say they are going to do. I look for the positive and want to help my friends if they need an ear, a shoulder, a hug. Respite from the chaos of their own lives. I assume they would do the same for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am hurt. I have feelings. I am capable of feeling sad, hurt, angry. Confused. I never expect the same level of interest in my life that I show to others' problems, issues, concerns. But I have problems that I wish someone would want to help unburden me from. It's not easy for me to bring someone in to my life. It's not easy for me to feel vulnerable.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have never felt so vulnerable, so confused, so hurt and so foolish as I do tonight.</div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-82845423734563111872012-01-19T19:01:00.003-05:002012-01-19T19:17:55.527-05:00AlternativesOne of the consequences of living in a constant state of fight-or-flight preparedness is that for the time being, it's perfectly acceptable for one's body to survive on cortisol and adrenalin and maybe insulin as well. I'm no doctor (or crazy scientist) and have probably only scratched the surface of that subject doing my research. But it's a fact that the body is flooded with hormones that keep us prepared to react to whatever happens in our lives. That's what it is supposed to do for survival.<div><br /></div><div>These reactions are only supposed to be a short term solution to a temporary situation and eventually we are supposed to right ourselves out. When that doesn't happen, eventually the body experiences consequences that can lead to chronic problems. That is what I think happened to me. When I had pneumonia in October of 2010, it was a wake up call to me that I had let myself become run down and I knew that my defenses couldn't defend me. It was only a scratch in the surface of my wall of defense. Little did I know that pneumonia would be the easy part.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward to now. I am in constant pain. Every joint in my body is achy but I don't have any redness or inflammation. I diagnosed myself with having chronic pain issues due to an overabundance of stress. I have to diagnose myself because I don't have health insurance anymore. I paid it as long as I could (about a year) after my dead-beat ex stopped paying it soon after his own daughter was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. I just couldn't keep up the huge payments.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I am doing what works for me. So far at least. A combination of chiropractic care and acupuncture treatments for the past three weeks seems to finally be working. That, along with my continued counseling. Today I feel pretty good for the first time in over six months. I truly believe that once my body feels better, all the other pieces will fall into place; better sleep and a more positive attitude will go a long way towards improving my general health and well-being. Cheers to that!</div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4757011523222959309.post-64880954927946363692011-12-27T23:43:00.002-05:002011-12-27T23:57:55.785-05:00Win Some, Lose SomeOne of the hardest things about the way my life has changed is the way people have reacted to me over the past year and a half. Apparently I can't do much right, 'cause people seem to be awfully mad at me...<div><br /></div><div>My one "friend" who I supported through the worst, most unimaginable sorrow, decided I wasn't worthy of his friendship anymore. Apparently I was supposed to ignore all my divorce hearing dates and my one child leaving for basic training while the other was going off to college, just to pay him a visit 7 hours away? Oh well...</div><div><br /></div><div>My other so-called friends from recent years couldn't have been more invisible than they were. And to think how happy I was to make new "friends". Whatever...</div><div><br /></div><div>The worst though, are the ones who I have known for 30+ years. Don't get me wrong. There are several friends who I have that kind of "pick up where we left off" kind of relationship. Then there are those who never, ever called me to hear my side of the story. Content they must have been to hear his belligerent need to be right. blah blah...</div><div><br /></div><div>Whatever. I am making a new path for myself. Meeting new people and, more importantly, having the respect of my daughters which is more than I can say for a lot of people. I am glad to have all those in my life who have stuck by me. You will know who you are always, because I will remind you how much you mean to me. In my own way.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03794646317737225407noreply@blogger.com5