Moving Day

I decided to take my blog to a new home and that a move to WordPress was the way to go for me.

If you got to this page, please update your link to:

http://www.uthostage.com/

And come join me at my new home!

Stacey

Wordless Wednesday - Wasatch at Night

Reflecting on 2009

2010 is in less than 13 hours. HOLY SHIT Y’ALL!

Wow! This year has totally flown by. It really does seem like we were just at the beginning of 2009. But a lot has happened this year too. I started thinking about everything and came up with a pretty good list of major events(good AND bad) from 2009:

I crept one year closer to turning 40. Damn I’m getting old.

I visited someone very special to me that I hadn’t seen in nearly 20 years.

I found out the company I work for was being bought out and that I would be laid off in early 2010.

I surprised my best friend and little sister by flying out to be at her baby shower. Because, of course, I just HAD to be there.

I stumbled onto Twitter and it SAVED MY LIFE. Ok, so maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it has totally been The Awesome.

I had the priviledge of attending BlogHer@Home and met some absolutely awesome and down-right funny people! (And the BEST Longhorns fans EVAH! HOOK EM!) (And trust me the links above don’t even BEGIN to cover all the amazing people I met. I promise I’m not trying to slight ANYONE!)

I finally committed to going back to college and finished my first semester (with A’s, yo! WOOT!)

I emancipated mah boobies! Are you shocked? ME TOO! (Yes I’m crazy, but not so crazy to give you the link right to it. If you send booze, then we’ll talk.)

My son came out to Utah and visited for the 2nd year in a row (I’m definitely hoping for a 3rd year too!)

And with all of that going on, I finally began to find my voice. It took a while, and it’s absolutely a work in progress, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I look forward to see where the journey leads in 2010.

I wish all of you a safe and Happy New Year! I sincerely hope that 2010 brings you lots of joy! Bottoms up!

All my love,

This is exactly why I don't talk about the sperm donor.

WARNING: This post is a HUGE rant that covers a couple of decade’s worth of shit and even then I’m barely touching on SO many things. I TOTALLY understand if you want to run screaming from it. I want to run screaming from it, and it’s my life! If you do dare to actually read it, well then, consider yourself forewarned.

*****

I have an ex-husband. I admit it.

It’s not that I hide my first marriage. Not in the least. My first marriage played a very big part in shaping the person I am today. I just usually refer to it indirectly (second marriage, second husband, etc.). If you have checked out my sidebar, you might have noticed that I acknowledge my ex-husband briefly. Very. Briefly. And then I go on to say that I don’t like to talk about him. EVER.

I hate my ex-husband. Hate him. Yes, I did just use the H word. And yes, I do know how harsh that sounds.

I met my ex when I was a senior in high school. My first job was at the local roller skating rink (remember those?) and my ex worked there too. We met and got along well enough and started dating about a month after I started working at the rink.

Our relationship…..overall…..was volatile. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. We fought A LOT. I wouldn’t say it was abusive. But it sure as hell wasn’t healthy. It took me years to figure out that I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I used him as my excuse to get away from my family, which was dysfunctional with a capital D.

I fooled myself into thinking that I loved my ex and stayed in the relationship because the alternative to me was so much worse. It was either him or my family. And it was imperative that I stay away from my family. They were quicksand to me (but that’s a post for another day). So I stayed. Even though he treated me badly. Even through the drugs. Even through the lies.

And then we broke up for a while. Sure, I know NOW that the break up was the best thing. But then? Breaking up with my ex forced me back to my family, which by this time was totally falling apart. I didn’t want to be around that. I still felt I had to get away from them. So when my ex apologized, I took him back.

I was pregnant with my son soon after and we were married a few months later.

After my son was born (at least I think it was after), my ex started having unexplained seizures that left him on disability and without a driver’s license. We had to move in with his parents, which just added more stress and things were already bad between us. By the time he went back to work and we moved out, the relationship was in shambles. The lies started again. When I confronted him with the huge lie he had told all along about his health issues, I said it was over. I took my son and left.

I struggled on my own. And I made mistakes. HUGE mistakes. Mistakes that I still kick myself for. One of those mistakes gave my ex the foothold he needed to separate my son from me. After that, he filed for divorce. Before the divorce was final, I felt like I hadn’t given the marriage 100% effort. I know now that it really was about still staying away from my family. I just didn’t have enough faith in myself.

The lies continued. My ex said that he had a vasectomy. Can you guess what happened next? You got it. I wound up pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not go to term. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if we had another child together. I don’t want to.

Sadly, I stayed with him for quite a few more months. The divorce was final, but we were still dating. At some point, I FINALLY got a clue! I realized that I had given the marriage every effort, and that I deserved so much better. I told my ex that it was over.

To say he took it badly was an understatement. And he had the upper hand. He had my son. My ex knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, but he knew I wanted my son. And he used it against me every chance he got. When I moved out of state a few years later, I tried to work with my ex on a reasonable visitation, but he would have none of it. The day I left CA was the worst day ever. I didn’t see my son after that for 7 years.

My ex wasn’t planning to make it easy for me to stay in touch. He changed his phone number and refused to let me have it to try to keep me from contacting my son. He even took my son out of town on a weekend I drove back to CA. Yes, my ex knew I was coming. I made plans with him a month in advance. He was just being vindictive. I also knew he was bad mouthing me to my son (which was confirmed in a conversation my son and I had a couple of year s ago). He even told my son that if I attended his high school graduation, he wouldn’t be there. I showed up anyway (TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER!).

Thankfully, my son’s (paternal) grandmother made sure I was in his life. She is the primary reason I have such a good relationship with my son today. I will never forget her for that.

*****

I told you all of that because of the phone call I received from my son today. It started off as any other normal conversation. He wanted to get a phone number from me. The more he talked, though, the more I knew something was off. So I asked what happened. He said his father kicked him out last night.

And I wanted to kill my ex. Right fucking then and there.

My son was out here in Utah for a visit just a week ago. We talked about how things were at home. I was concerned at how my son described his father’s recent actions. They didn’t make sense to me. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with my son coming out to visit me. I kept it to myself, though, for my son’s sake. I only said here and there that I didn’t agree with certain things and that I didn’t understand why his father was being that way.

When my son went back home it seemed like things were going to be okay. He told his father he was going to move up to Sacramento because the city college there had space available in his degree (the junior college in Stockton where he currently lives is full). I supported his decision and it sounded like his father did too.

I don’t know what changed. And neither does my son. An argument yesterday culminated in my ex telling my son to get out and leave his keys. He also told my son that he is not allowed to call the house or his father’s cell phone. My son is not allowed to go to the house to get his things. Until this Thursday. For 3 hours. Seriously?!?!

I am at a loss. I don’t understand this at all. My son doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to his classes. He EXCELS in his classes. He is responsible. I DO NOT understand what could have happened that would justify this kind of reaction from my ex.

And it makes me wonder if it has to do with me. Is this my ex’s final vengeful act? He can’t use custody against me anymore, since my son is an adult. So is this his one last ditch effort to try to hurt me? I don’t know.

What does hurt me is that I’m not close enough to help my son. I want so badly to be there for him. But I can’t. And it kills me right now. I’ve been crying on and off since I got his call today. I know my son is strong and he will get through this, but I feel like he needs me. And dammit I’M HIS MOTHER! I should be there, right?

Good job, sperm donor. You get an A+ for acting like an ass and driving your son away. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because in the end, YOU’RE the one who has truly lost.

Fifi saved me from another possbly embarrassing situation.

Husband: Why is the TV screen all slobbery and gross?

Me: Umm…..I dunno. I can tell you what it WASN’T from. It was NOT from me making out with Tom Selleck last night.

Husband: Huh?

Me: Cuz that totally didn’t happen. It must have been the dog.

Husband: What dog? We don’t have a dog.

Me: WTF? What do you mean we don’t have a dog? How could you forget Fifi?

Husband: Fifi?

Me: Yes, Fifi! Our little cockapoo? The one that bit you on the leg last week?

Husband: YOU bit me on the leg last week.

Me: Nooooo. I was pulling Fifi OFF you. She was upset cuz you were ignoring her. I was trying to protect you. Your welcome.

Husband: We do NOT have a dog.

Me: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? It’s bad enough that you ignore her. Now you’re just being cruel.

Husband: *sigh*

Me: Shhhh! Magnum PI is coming on.


Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if any of that really happened. Except maybe the part about the TV screen being all slobbery and gross. Cuz I don’t need yet another restraining order.

What? You think Tom Selleck would make out with me in real life?

Yeah, me too.

Mormon Graffiti

Driving down Bangerter Highway, you will often see messages written in the fences that cross the highway.

In plastic cups. True story.

You will see anything from birthday messages to welcome home messages for missionaries. Even marriage proposals. They usually don't last long. You might see the messages intact once as you drive by. The next time you pass by? The messages are most likely distorted, possibly even transformed into something totally different from the original message.

I took this picture on the way to work this morning. This message has been intact for I think 3 weeks now. I'm amazed at how much effort was put into it and at how respecful people have been to not destroy it. Of course now that I've said that.....well, you know.

Wordless Wednesday - the best picture EVAH!

What can I say? I makez pretty peoplez!

I don't understand.

He was pissed off. At me. I didn’t understand why. So I asked.

Instead of getting an answer, I was insulted. I was called a whore.

I didn’t understand why.

The insults continued.

I explained that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I was told that I was not trusted. That I was in danger of crossing a line.

I wasn’t. I was falsely accused.

I never did anything remotely close to what I was being accused of. I know I didn’t. I explained that and the insults stopped. I thought things would calm down.

I was wrong.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I was the bad person again. The insults resumed.

And then it was quiet. He left.

Hours later, I received an apology, but I was still upset. I wasn’t being unreasonable. An apology just didn’t sweep it all away and make it not have happened. And when I explained that?

I was told to bury it.

Not asked.

Told.

Demanded actually.

I was supposed to bury the fact that I had been treated badly. I was supposed to act as if nothing ever happened.

How could I do that? WHY would I do that?

And because I wouldn’t ‘bury it’, I was the bad person all over again. The cycle repeated. The insults resumed.

Except that I still had not done anything wrong.

And I still didn’t understand why.

The next morning, I received another apology. I was told he was wrong. I was told he overreacted. I was told he acted immaturely. But he still didn't acknowledge that I didn't do anything wrong.

I explained that I can't let this keep happening. I can't continue to be a verbal punching bag. He agreed.

So now I try to get past it. But it's hard. It gets harder each time. And when I think about what happened...

...I still don't understand why.

*sigh*

Wordless Wednesday

Now if only I could remember what I did with the disk.....

Hell really has frozen over and I can prove it.

Theorem - Hell has frozen over.

Proof - According to Miriam-Webster’s Dictionary, one of the definitions of hell is:

2 a : a place or state of misery, torment, or wickedness.

Misery.

Torment.

Wouldn’t living in a state I loathe for the past 7 years (7 YEARS? WTF?), dealing with the end of my marriage, and getting laid off from my job in two months qualify for being in a state of misery and/or torment? Yeah, I think so too. *snort* (I promise you there’s more to that list, but then we totally go off-topic and skirt the realm of TMI, so it’s best for me to just keep those to myself.)

Therefore, I am in hell.

And since this is what it looks like today:

We can conclude that hell has truly frozen over.

On My Mind

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. Whew!

This year was a simple one for us, and I for one (maybe the ONLY one) was glad for it. We ended up getting a Honeybaked Ham (instead of being covered in turkey guts) and just had a few sides with it. Trust me that was more than enough. And no tryptophan comas this year. SCORE!

*****

Two weeks left and I will have SURVIVED THE 1ST SEMESTER! Where’s my gold statue? (btw, it’s spelled s-t-a-c-E-Y! *sigh*)

The homework for the four PowerPoint chapters in my computer class is crammed into the next two weeks. I KNOW! Plus the final PowerPoint project is due next week too. I’m actually thinking of doing very little for the final project, or not even doing it at all. I have such a high grade in that class, it wouldn’t hurt.

And then there’s the math final, which shouldn’t be too bad. I hope.

I got an email from the college saying that course evals are now available online and they’re due by Dec. 13th. That gives me plenty of time to figure out what I’m going to say about the psycho professor from hell. It totally goes without saying that I will NOT miss her. At. All.

This Friday I will finally be allowed to register for the spring semester (cuz I’m still low on the credits totem pole). I’ve decided on 2 programming classes, but I still haven’t quite figured out if I will take 2 or 3 more classes and what they will be yet. Good thing work is slow DEAD. It might actually give me a chance to figure that all out by Friday. Or not. I’m still behind on blog reading you know.

*****

November 19th was my one year blogiversary. And my blog stayed silent.

I could blame the silence on work. I could blame it on school. I could blame it on the fact that I killed like a million brain cells when I got totally shitfaced that week. But the truth is…..

I don’t know WHAT the truth is.

I don’t know why I write less and less lately. I don’t know why I remind myself that I need to write, and then find anything else I can think of to do instead (and my office is looking better than ever these days!). I don’t know why I write blog posts in my head when I lay down each night (but not write them down) only to completely forget what the hell I was thinking about when I wake the next morning.

I’m hoping it’s just a phase and that it passes quickly.

*****

I had the strangest dream last week. I was at my high school reunion and NO ONE TALKED TO ME. NO ONE. It was absolutely awful. And then I was asked to be a server of some sort. And I was all WTF? I'm being ignored and now I'm asked to wait on the people who are ignoring me? I so don't think so. So I left the reunion bawling.

It was SO WEIRD. I already went to my reunion last year. And even though I wasn't the most popular kid in school (in fact far from it...I was a total band geek), I wasn't ignored. I did, however, manage to make an ass out of myself a couple of times cuz I totally remembered someone's face, but completely forgot their name and even called them by a different one. Brilliant Stacey, just plain brilliant.

I'm so sorry Juan! I really do remember you! You can totally accept my Facebook friend request now!

Yeah, like he reads my blog.

WTF?

Originally, I was gonna file this under gigglesnorts. But I really think it falls more under a WTF? Because, obviously.

Seriously?

I'm turning WHAT?????

Inside out?

Upside down?

Japanese? (I don't really think so, think so, think so, think so.)

Actually...I'm turning 40. 40. The big four-oh. Ugh.

My mom used to have a refrigerator magnet that said:

I'd rather be 40 than pregnant.

Of course, at the time, I was neither 40 nor pregnant. I thought the magnet was silly and told my mother as much. She just laughed and said that she agreed with the sentiment. Fine mom, whatEVER!

Well, 40 is quickly approaching, and I have been pregnant a time or two. I no longer think that my mother's magnet was silly, but I haven't quite figured out whether or not I agree with the statement.

Until recently, my age has never bothered me. I've been lucky enough to not look my age (and THANKYOUVERYMUCH to whomever had a hand in that!). And I haven't really exeperienced any real mid-life crisis feelings, unless you count the fact that I've poked more holes in my head (like I need more of those, right?). No boy toys, no sports cars, etc. Maybe that happens after I turn 40? Time will have to tell on that.

The only times I have even been slightly weirded out about my age is when I think of how I have an 19-year old son who is in college. College. Oh my GAWD I'm old! It also doesn't really help that I'm in college now too (can you say potential paradox?).

Over a year ago, I decided that I had no intention of spending my 40th birthday in Utah. No. Way. In. Hell. I was gonna do something fun and something REALLY BIG. And I knew that I wanted to share it with one of my dearest friends. I didn't even have any idea of what to do then, but she said she was totally up for it. So I put my thinking cap on. I heard the gears turning up there and smelled smoke a couple of times but got no real result. Well.....CRAP!

Then I remembered how much fun I had on a cruise to Cabo I took in 2007 with my friend & an amazing group of gals. And I thought THAT'S WHAT WE SHOULD DO! We always talked of taking another cruise somewhere. And is there a more perfect reason than to commiserate celebrate with someone who is depressed about getting over the hill super excited about being 40 and SEXY!

So in less than two months, we are off on a cruise to the Bahamas! WOOT! I cannot tell you how excited I am to be spending my 40th birthday doing something really big, just like I planned. And with such great women. I know it will be a birthday to remember.....in a good way.

Purge, purge again, and just when you think you're done, purge some more.

I wouldn't consider myself a pack rat.  Now.  When I was younger, though, I started to come pretty darn close.  I kept EVERYTHING.

You, know how it is.  You keep every little thing because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need a bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more money to pay for the bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don't know why she swalloed the fly. Perhaps she'll die.) I guess you could say the things I have kept are my fly.

Moving has always offered an opportunity to get rid of some stuff. Why pack it when you can purge it, right? Right. But no matter how much I get rid of, I think I only get through the surface and maybe 2-3 underlying layers. Tops.

And then I just start amassing NEW stuff. Such a vicous cycle.

Well, I'm getting closer to breaking the cycle. The downfall of my marriage, my impending "over the hill" status, and getting thrown out on my collective career-ass, just to name a few, have me thinking of ways to simplify my life. FAST.

I'm starting with closing my MK business. Honestly, it's time. I've been trying to decide what to do with it ever since I started, but never actually DOING anything with it. On any level. I just don't see that getting any better in the near future, so I'm kickin' it to the curb for now.

Another purge category that is long overdue is my craft items. For years, I was a psychotic craft shopper. Let me clarify something, though. SHOPPING does not imply CREATING. I had ideas of really cool craft projects out the wazoo! Sadly, the ideas never quite panned out or didn't look as good in real life as they did in my head. Man, everything looks/sounds/feels/is SO much better in my head. Maybe I should just go live there!

The last on my list right now are my collectibles. The Bradford Edition plates that hung on a wall for a mere year out of the decade and a half that I have had them. Oh, and my Cherished Teddies. What the HELL was I thinking? Sure, they are freakin cute as hell, and did manage to be on display in my house(s) for a little longer than the plates. But ever since the hostage crisis began (I really do need to explain that sometime, don't I?), they have been nothing more than garage dust collectors. I don't really think that was the artist's intention and it certainly wasn't mine either.

eBay/Craigslist/KSL.com and the like are prolly gonna become my temporary best friends here soon. And hopefully things get a little (or a lot) simpler in my life. Think I can sell the husband? Cuz that would REALLY simplify my life lemme tell ya.

So, I'm curious who else out there is a closet pack rat? Come purge with me peeps! You know you want to.

Gigglesnort of the week

I totally have dain bramage, but it's not from playing foot-bawl without my hehmet and my showdah-mah-pads.

Thanks Tanya for this blast from the past.

Up yours Winter.

Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours." ~Robert Byrne

Winter was just screwing with us a couple weeks ago when the temperatures finally dropped 30 degrees and there was snow on the ground for about 8 hours. But now I think it may finally be starting to dig in for the long haul.

Then again, maybe not.

The weather people say we're gonna get snow this weekend and the temps are gonna stay in the 30's and 40's for most of the next week. Except you I can never believe those people, so it will probably be balmy 80-degree days instead. It could happen!

Last night, it was raining on my way home from class but I didn't think anything of it. And then this was what I woke up to this morning:

Pretty, huh? I still think it's too early, though, to say the weather people were right. I'M KEEPING AN EYE ON YOU PEOPLE! YOU HAVEN'T WON ME OVER YET!

So, it was below freezing this morning, snow on the ground, ice on my car door handles, and what did I do?

Went to Starbucks and got a mocha frappuccino. Just in case.

Happy Birthday USMC.....damn you're old!

I'm just kidding about the old part.

Today marks the 234th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. 234 years. Wow. I really did not know that the USMC had been around for that long. Growing up, I could only really equate the Marines with Gomer Pyle, which didn't mean much except that the show was funnier than shit!

Aw come on! Are you kidding me? What do you mean you don't know who Gomer Pyle is?

Well Go-ollly! Talk to the hand. TALK TO THE HAND!

So, Happy Birthday USMC! And thankyouthankyouTHANKYOU to all past, present, and future Marines.

Wait a minute. Don't go thinking that I'm playing favorites with the Marines. My thanks go out to ALL branches of the military. I'm an equal opportunity military supporter. Why else would I have married first an Army guy and then a Navy guy? I'm totally supportive of the military. Either than or I'm totally sadistic. What's next? A Marine? Hmmmm.....there's a thought.

OORAH!

Six Word Saturday

Yes I miss you. Call me.

I don't believe love is elusive.

Wanna know more about Six Word Saturday? Head over to Cate's page.

The flashback that made me want to get physical.

nd here's where I let on to just how old I might be.....

I absolutely heart me some '80s music. Love it. In fact, if I'm in need of something to help keep me motivated on a task, you will either find me listening to music from the '80s or disco. No...that is NOT a typo. (Remember that age thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well...there you go.)

Sidenote: As far as I'm concerned, disco will NEVER be dead. You can't shake your ass to anything else like you can to disco. And don't think I don't know that you do it too. In your home. When nobody's watching (at least so you think). You put on Donna Summer's Last Dance and boogie down. Until you hear someone nearby and you run to switch it to Metallica and start headbanging. Cuz that'll totally throw them off the trail of what you were REALLY doing in there. You can admit it now. We all know. DON'T WE.

My most recent '80s flashback had me searching for the video to Olivia Newton-John's Physical. I found what I was looking for and much more. I got two flashbacks for the price of one. (Then again since it didn't cost me anything, it was actually two flashbacks for the price of none. But I digress yet again.)

Remember Solid Gold? (Cue the "ooooo"s and "ahhhh"s here.)

That weekly music countdown show that was only just a small step up from American Bandstand. Where lip synching songs was the ONLY option and was paired with a bunch of HAWT dancers in spandex (Spandex? In the '80s? NAH!). I vaguely seem to remember having a HUGE crush on one of the male dancers. Couldn't tell you which one, though.

 

That's just some awesome shit right there. She never made a mistake. Her performance was flawless. She never had to take a break in the middle of the song bcuz she was out of breath from her dancing workout (or those steamy hunks dancing with her *fanning self*). And I have absolutely NO idea how my simple little '80s song flashback morphed into poking fun at Solid Gold. I loved that show growing up.

Spooky Six Word Saturday? Perhaps not.

I've missed that past few SWS (so sad) and my six words today are not spooky (well, I guess they could be depending on how you look at them LOL), but here they are:

Husband's leaving for two weeks. WOOT!