Sometimes it's the smallest thing...

I am a human yo yo of emotion and determination. I set a goal (run 5 miles, eat healthier, not text someone that I shouldn't text) and the next thing you know...I"m sitting on my bed, eating a little Debbie snack cake, pondering what to text. It's pathetic, but true. ( I do love little Debbie Swiss Roll Snack Cakes though..they rate right up there with brownies..which for me are food crack).

I KNOW what to do in order to get healthier, and it's simple, really. Eat less and move more. That's it. I listen to people, read tons of books, and it all boils down to the same thing. During my homeless spring tour, I was on the "Charles Moore Weight Loss Diet" which consisted of me basically losing anything I ate. And since this went on for the three months of my homeless spring tour, I lost a good 30 pounds or so.

And then I didn't.

Besides not being exactly the best way to lose weight, I have floundered in what I know I need to do to get healthier. I am really good at the walking part...mostly because I have Kitty, who considers my major role in life to walk her. And since she saved my life by doing this, I keep returning the favor. And now we have Tila, who adds to the fun of the walk. (Try holding two leashes, an iPod, and have earphones in your ears while walking ...sheeshie. ) I also start out each day with determination and plan (ummm, for the most part) healthy things to eat at school, and two things usually happen.

1. I am stellar in my food  choices during the day, and then when I get home, it is as if I have been in a German concentration camp for 20 years. Or...
2. I start grabbing every treat or morsel I can find at school.. Kind of an emotional food frenzy.

Neither are helpful.

Yesterday I was looking through at the 4, 345 dating websites that seem to know I am single. I decided in January that I was removing myself from those sites for a bit, while I worked on me. But if you will remember how I am an emotional yo-yo, you will not be surprised to know that I decided to put a decent picture of myself and a good friend on this dating website. I am NOT photogenic, so if I find a good picture of myself, it's rare. So I filled in all the basics of the profile stuff they needed, added the picture, and Ta-da! within 10 minutes, I had several candidates who were winking and showing interest.

Now, I am not so naive as to not know that sometimes these websites are rigged. (Well, at least I think they are...I have no data to support this, but it does seem to me they try to "hook" you when you decide to resign or remove yourself. ). But there were a couple of men that e-mailed, and one man in particular that was asking questions. Kind of flattering.

And then I looked at my profile picture.

I didn't pay a lot of attention when I posted the picture, and when it cropped the picture, the image of the picture was not of myself, but of my friend. She is an attractive, normal body size type of person. Very personable, very photogenic.

Oops.

I went back and cropped the picture so the image was of myself, and then received an e-mail from the man wanting to know if I could send more pictures of myself, besides the one "with my friend on the left."

Guess who was on the left?

I wrote back politely, explaining that I WAS the person on the left, and asking if he still wanted more photos.

He didn't.

He did write back, explaining that my friend was of the "average" size, while I clearly was not. And that it was not a good idea to post pictures of two people on a profile, and while he wished me luck on my search, he was not interested in me.

However, if my friend was interested in him, he would be interested in her as well.

Now I have to tell you that besides not being really surprised by this, I reacted for the first time in my life by not thinking, "Oh great, I'm not enough again" to 'What a jerk." Because I do believe his statements say a lot about the type of person he is, which is not the type of person I would want to be with anywho. Or either I am just getting a thicker skin about rejection.

But something did happen.

As I thought about this, there was a very small part of me that got some backbone and thought, "I'll show him. I'll prove he is wrong about me." Because although what he said is not anywhere on the scale of niceness, he was right about one thing. I am heavier than I need to be. And for my health (and now to prove a point) I do need to work on becoming a smaller me.

And then posting a new picture of myself, and rejecting him.

Well, not really...but maybe I will. :)

The things that I think at times

I remember when I became principal, our executive director of elementary curriculum (who I would like to be when I grow up..she is an amazing person) told me that the first year I was principal, I would think it was easy. The second year, a light bulb would begin to shine above my head as I realized I was a little over my head, and by the third year, I would realize how much I didn't know.

Of course, she was right.

The expulsion from the bubble has been quite the same way. I swear, if you would look up the word "naive" in the dictionary, it would have a picture of my big old head beside it.  The more that I learn outside this bubble, the more that I am amazed. (and befuzzled, and quite confused at times as well.)

So let me share some of the things I have learned...or still trying to learn.

1. People like it when you are a good friend, but some do not reciprocate  the favor. A good friend also is a good friend to you as well. Friendship is not a one way street. 
2. When someone tells you "I am confused" or "I need time to figure things out" or "When I get things figured out, we can hang out together" they are really telling you nicely, "I'm not interested."  (This I figured out yesterday...and I literally mean yesterday.)
3. Some men actually do like romantic poems, flower gifts,  and stuff like that on their Facebook page. (Really? Really?)  This sends out a "Danger, Danger, Will Robinson" signal to me. 
4. Babies and puppies are really just the same...one just has a longer tail.
5. No matter what you do, someone is going to like what you do...and others will not. So do what you want to do, but do it from your moral core.
6. You can not fly below the radar, and then mumble that no one knows who you are. So stop it. (This is directed to me). 
7. Watch how someone is around waiters, or salespeople..this will be a hint to you how they will be around you..when they are no longer trying to impress you. (This I read in the Oprah magazine this morning). 
8. If you are doing all the contacting, and the other person is not..that should tell one something. Hopefully I will learn this someday. Sigh.
9. When all else fails, go for a walk..take dogs with you..and be thankful for all that you have..and all that can some in your life.
10. Cloudy Sundays are good days for naps. :)

The things I've always wanted.

One of the things that has happened with this living alone, not having oodles of children/teenagers to cook , clean, nag at..is that I have time to think. This is a dangerous thing at times, but also a good thing for me. So I do.

It has always, always, been important for me to have a boyfriend. I remember in sixth grade being so happy that Johnny Gallman liked me for the brief period of most likely 3 weeks..and picking out a special pen for him. (Yes, I'm a dork). I remember the thrill of having the ninth grade class president decide that I was his latest conquest. I will have you know that I set the record of dating him for 3 months, before his mom and dad decided that dating me was not a good idea. (My mother liked to call people when she drank, and decided to call his mom one night, and let her have it).  When I started dating Craig, I remember lying in bed and thanking God that someone liked me. Then there was Charles, who professed his undying love for me, and made me feel special..and then it became real.

So when I was alone...which really hadn't happened much in my life, my idea was that I would get in another relationship, at least by 2 years after the divorce.  Well, needless to say, it will be 3 years since the divorce, and I am no where near a relationship..in fact I am not even dating anyone at the moment. And for the most part I am ok with that most of the time. Well, maybe I'm not. Well, maybe I am. It depends on the moment, and what is going on.

For the fact of the matter is that it does matter to me immensely to be in a relationship with someone. I watch people that I have dated move to another person..and it kills me. I am hurt, and puzzled, and mad at myself that it does matter so much to me. And I wonder why...and so did my friends.

I am beginning to understand why a bit better now.

This is hard for me to admit, really. I know my mother loved me and my two sisters. I am sure she did. I tell people that all the time. But I never really heard it from her. I never really got a hug and a kiss goodnight when I went to bed from her. I most of the time was trying to get her to go to bed when I was small. I most of the time wondered what she was doing or saying when I was out with friends, or on a date. I tried hard to go the right things, and do things in school the right way, and all that stuff. But a lot of the time I was scared, and uneasy, and not feeling so safe in my own home.

I remember going to other families that told each other that they loved each other all the time, and hugged and kissed each other, and I was amazed and uncomfortable all at the same time. Cause I didn't see it in my own home. And when I was married to Craig, he did show his love and affection for me and for the children. And I tried to show it back, and I think I did.

But I think deep inside me there is this little girl with a big hole that needs care and affection..that needs someone to tell her that she is important and special to him. And although I know that I have to be happy and whole with myself..and know that another person should add to my life, not make my life..the little girl part of me still wants it so badly...wants to be loved and appreciated and told that I am simply amazing.

And now I have to figure out how to get the part in my head and the hole in my heart to get together to get fixed..and to let that little girl inside me know that I am amazing and special.

I just wish I could feel that way.

What happens to you can help someone else it happens to....or the circle of disaster.

The one thing that I have held onto since my ejection from the bubble was the fact that even though I didn't like what happened to me..(at all, I might add) I do believe that things do happen for a reason. The issue is that sometimes I don't have a clue what the reason is..but I kind of had a brain alert today.

When Reid died, I remember vaguely a couple that lived down the street coming to visit..they brought a book to me about Children and Grief. Their own son was stabbed at a party, and they had to go through the torture of court dates and trials. (Something I thank God I was spared). The book became my lifeline..I kept it and read it over and over again. I guess I thought if I read it enough, perhaps I would understand the reason why my dear Reid was no longer telling me "Did you see me do a back flip?" when he actually didn't. I think.

When the Mayor put me through the torture of being homeless, going through divorce, stretching things out to be difficult and mean, I hung on to the fact that everyone kept telling me it would get better. Although I didn't believe them, really. I'd walk Kitty until neither of us could move, and once again drove everyone crazy needing reassurance that things would get better.

And slowly, things did.

I didn't feel like the monster from the Black lagoon was grabbing me by the neck every time I thought of Reid. I could listen to the High School band that he played the tuba in without having to go home and crawl into bed. I could see his friends and not die inside. I could drive down the street where I used to live without the fear of seeing the Mayor. I could pull into my friend Pam's' driveway without hiding my car in the garage.

And then, something else started to happen. I could actually help other people.

When my dear Pam lost her wonderful daughter, I was there. I knew how I could help. We could sit and cry, and talk, and really didn't care who saw. I got it. And from our grief, we developed a friendship that I truly treasure.

When the Gibson family lost a father, a husband, a brother, and a son, I could be there. I could give the book that meant so much to me to them.

When I have had friends and co-workers go through divorces that have been painful and devastating, I could be there for them. I could listen, and let them know that even through I STILL feel that time is a four letter word, it does help heal.

If Reid hadn't died...if the Mayor hadn't decided that my usefulness was over, I never would have been in a place where I was a small help to others in a small way. And that, in some small way,  is the gift of my pain.

You can't go home again..

I know I will bring up my dating (or lack of dating) a lot in this blog. So if this bores you, just click away from the blog now. And please keep in mind I am 13 in dating years.

So far, not a lot has happened to me dating wise. I know it's reported that women are fickle, but holy cow, so are men. Or something. I have no clue. Please keep in mind that I like to be able to understand things in my small brain, and the only thing that I have learned that is I don't understand AT ALL. (did I mention AT ALL?)

The latest incident (or life lesson, if you want to be more technical) involves a man that I met last year. We talked some, texted a lot (by the way, texting seems to be the new way to call, rather than talk..but that's another story).  We met one time, talked, tried to walk his dog (who he had taken on a long mountain hike the day before, and could barely move) and then I left to go home. For some reason, Rio Rancho (where I live, and is about 30 minutes) from Albuquerque, seemed like some foreign country to him. And then, after the texting, and the talking, and the professions of how wonderful I was, guess what happened? Yes, he disappeared.

Yay.

Of course, this was during the period where I freaked out over any small disturbance in my dating life force, and my poor friends had to spend a week or so convincing me he was not the right person for me. And after spending many days listening the many reasons I was not enough..so he felt the need to disappear, I did go back to my regularly scheduled programming of life.

Until last week.

We e-mailed back and forth a couple of times, then he asked me to text him. So of course, I did. However, this time, I was a bit wiser, and when I began to see the same "texting pattern" begin again, I set some boundaries of what worked for me.  Of course he realized that. Of course he was sorry that he just disappeared. Of course he thought I was special.

Until last night.

Now in the past, you usually got bad news over the phone, or in a letter..maybe even in an e-mail. This was through a text. Apparently, he had just ended a relationship, and was "using me" as comfort for the moment. He of course, was sorry. He wasn't able "to give" at this point in time, and I deserved more.

Well, that was right.

I have always been excellent at being "deliberately vague"..and I was brought up to be polite. So at first I was. I understood, I appreciated his honesty, hopefully we could go out as friends sometime.

Then I thought about it.

I texted back, and let him know that although I appreciated his honesty, he just basically repeated what he did to me the first time we met. I was a diversion...and he somehow managed happened to have a relationship after me after being constantly busy..and all I was this time was a diversion again.

Hurray.

However, this time, I let him know that, and let him know that I wasn't a diversion..I was a person that deserved better. And I do, really. I do.

It is hard to do the right things at times...

Did I mention that I don't like change, especially? And I have been through a lot in the last four years. Although I guess if you think about it, you change all the time. Some decisions you make, some are made for you. And some you can see like a train engine coming...and as hard as you try to avoid it, it happens anyway.

This weekend I made a very hard decision. My 16 year old dog, Sophie, has not been doing well the last several years. For one thing, she is old. Her back legs were totally stiff and arthithic. Her hearing was poor, her eyes were glazed, and she had started urinating in places she just didn't normally urinate. And she barked randomly...a lot of time at 4 in the morning.

I tried to rationalize that she was eating, she seemed alert, but was just getting old. Sophie has been with me through everything..the end of my first marriage, the trip to New Mexico, the disastrous 11 years that were my nightmare of a marriage, the death of my son, the betrayal of said disastrous marriage,my "homeless spring tour"...and my life that began when I moved into my house. And through all this, quiet Sophie was there. She followed me always. If I stood up to go to another room, she was behind me. If I went to the bathroom, there she was. She was always with me. And with all the changes that I have been through, I just didn't want to have another one.

However, things come to you when they should. And I knew (with the help of my friends) that it was time for Sophie to end her life with dignity. She couldn't stand on tile anymore. There were several times that I would come home to find her lying on the floor..stuck. And as much as I didn't want to do it, I knew this was the one gift I could give to her, for all she has done and been to me.

My good friend Eileen lives in Jemez Valley, a region of New Mexico. We took Sophie to a vet that she had for many years. He was as gracious and kind as any man I've ever met. Through my tears, he explained to me what Sophie had been going through..and what she would continue to go through. He told me that I did a very good job taking care of her for 16 years, and it was time. I lifted her up on the table, and hugged her, told her I loved her, and thanked her for all she has been in my life. He said a prayer to her in his native language, and then she was gone. We took her to Eileens home, and she is buried under a huge oak tree in the mountains. She is there with people who also loved her.

I know that a lot of people wouldn't understand what  a dog could mean to me. Sophie just wasn't a dog. She was a gentle, constant, kind companion who brought more to my life than most people I know.

Thank you, Sophie.

Apparently, I've "Gots Issues."

One of my favorite school stories involves a little boy named Fernando, who got in trouble with his brother, Gabriel, on the bus. Well, Gabriel really got in trouble, and Fernando happened to be along for the ride...so to speak. As Fernando was explaining to me the particulars of the story, and I asked about his brother's part..he looked at me earnestly with his big brown eyes, and explained, "Ms. Moore, Gabriel's gots issues. He goes to a therapy group every Wednesday."

That story and that phrase has stuck with me. In fact, I use it often when explaining any sort of issue about anyone. And now that includes me as well.

I grew up in a family that had two sisters (not counting me) and a mother. My father died when I was 10. His death has been explained to me and my sisters as a pancreatic disease, but I never thought that was the whole truth.  (My family is big on secrets). I knew that he had some kind of nervous breakdown when I was in the third grade..and he was addicted to codeine cough syrup. This we discovered in finding hundreds of cough syrup bottles on top of the breezeway after his death.

My mother was an alcoholic. She was a wonderful mother during the day. After my father died, I remember her dating a bit, but I am sure my  little 10 year old glare at her dates did not help. So it was my two sisters, myself, and my Mama. And although she was great during the day, she was mean and scary at night. She would disguise bourbon (or whatever) in coke...and by 8 or 9 o'clock, she became nasty. And it was amazing how she could get on the phone and call people...and basically ruin their evening as well. I lost a lot of boyfriends that way, and I guess you can't blame their parents. I wouldn't want my son hanging out with a daughter who had a mom who basically told you off..and that is putting it nicely. 

My job..as well as my sisters, was to get her to go to sleep. Because if you could get her to go to sleep, the meanness and the phone calls would stop. This, however, was a bit difficult for the three of us. I remember my two sisters coming into my room in the attic, and telling me that we needed to get Mama to go to sleep. She was forever fixing the toilet while she drank as well. Why this is, I don't know.

This went on past my college years. It was strange. I could be out on a date, and I would know if I came home she would be drinking. And she was not nice to my dates, I might add. She did the same to my sisters, and was quite nasty in her tone and her gestures. 

When my children and my sisters' children came along, things changed. She had larynx cancer, and the treatments made her ill when she drank.  This was a good thing, because I had made up my mind that my children would not be around to experience what I did. And my children, as well as my niece and nephews, loved her...and did so until her death 

My first marriage was peaceful and safe...no tension, no scariness, just a stable environment..until I got stupid and threw it away. When I married "The Mayor" I basically went right back into the same situation I did with my mother...the same tension, the same kind of quicksand, without the drinking.

And now I am out of it, and rebuilding me. Or trying to figure out the new me, or whatever I am. Who knows? I've been going to grief counseling for the last four years since Reid died, and then that ended when the state had cutbacks. I thought I was doing ok, and was my usual mess at Christmas. Dena told me that I really needed to go back to counseling. I had done couples counseling with Ken Hodder. In fact all the children have seen him, except for Reid. And I am sure he would have if he had been alive. So I went this past week. To be honest, I am not really sure why I did. I felt ok, and thought I was doing well.  At the end of the first session, Ken informed me that this would be "long term" work..which to be honest, jolted me a bit. And then my wise Yoda friend told me today that she felt that I had issues from my childhood which have basically made me a mess.

So here I am...with long term issues. Funny. When Ken asked me what I wanted from this counseling, I told him I was kind of floundering...that I wanted to build a life for myself that was real and whole. At least that's what I think I want. We will see. We will see.