Seeing someone

I am seeing someone. It is still early yet, so it is all so new but it is nice.

I had forgotten how wonderful men can be.

It is fantastic to be reminded.

Absolutely Nothing to Report.

We have officially entered the horrible rainy season at the coast. Not the kind of rain that actually waters stuff but the misting kind that makes my hair poof up and be seen from space. I totally hate it.

I have power. I now have had power three TOTAL days in a ROW. It is like winning the Power ball only with no money and instead a light bulb that works. Super!

The dogs have been very poorly behaved and I think Olive is going through her terrible two's at 8 months of age. In all things bad, she is well ahead of the curve. In two days, she has chewed up three rugs, 2 shirts, 1 pair of pants and 1 billion unmentionables. You can say "Why don't you pick up your clothes, you messy thing. Didn't your mother teach you any better?" And the answer would be no, she didn't teach me any better but I have picked them up and put them in the hamper. Only Olive has figured out if you throw your giant hairy body against the hamper, it falls over and Boom, all sorts of fun has just been scattered around the laundry room. I am looking for a heavier hamper or a lighter dog, which ever I find first shall solve the problem.

So other than that, it is a very boring mundane existence I am leading. And I am so FINE with that. After all the excitement of the last year, a little boring is nice. I am reading A LOT. I am crafting. I am calm and content. I really hope it takes for a while.

power

Day three without power! Seriously, there is something so wrong in my world. I had a water leak and it leaked into the fuse box and shorted the whole little thing to pieces. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

After I figured out it wasn't the whole neighborhood, and oh wasn't this fun with candles and the fireplace, and it was just me without power. Let's just say I am not the brightest bulb in the package. The fact that I have a street light right outside the front of my house, could have been a clue, IF I HAD A MIND.

Emergency power guy came out. He tried. I had power for 30 minutes before it shorted out again. It was a lot like winning the lottery for 30 minutes before you realize you just wrote down the winning numbers on a piece of paper, they are NOT your numbers, which are not even close to the winning numbers. I almost got warm. I almost had a delicious chicken pot pie cooked. I almost had the coffee done. Pop. Back in the dark. Not fun with candles anymore.

The neighbors came with a flashlight. The emergency power guy came out, nothing he could do. I was sent back in time to the 1800's and I did not like it. I read by flashlight. Went to bed at 9:30, I was bored.

Sunday, no power the entire day. Finally about 4:30 yesterday, they got it almost all back on. Only the oven refuses to participate in the let's get our ass in gear and turn on. Today everybody back again to finish the job.

Nothing in my house is to code. Nothing is easy or located in the place it is suppose to be. My meter box is located too close to an open window. In Seaside, it is a law that you can't have your meter box next to a window because at one time, a meter reader was reading a meter, the homeowner thought she/he was a peeping tom, and shot and killed her/him. Now they also have to wear orange vests, the readers not the meter. That needs to move.

My power into the house is too close to an upstairs window that opens. Since I may open the window and play around with live electrical cords, I now need to hire a window guy to make the window inoperable. I can't make this stuff up.

Right now I have power. Tomorrow no power.

I do have to say that this weekend has really repaired my faith in my fellow men. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has bent over backwards for me. The power guy worked on his birthday. One power guy babysat the other guy's children so he could go on the roof to repair the lines. The power company came out three times yesterday. The neighbors brought me hot food, had me over for dinner, provided me a warm bed, helped me dismantle my driveway gate so I could leave my house. All this has been done with a smile and a kind attitude.

I feel so lucky to have landed here. Though I also like power. A LOT.

A date? or not?

Ok, this weekend sucked. My power box blew up and I had no power all weekend. It just sucked. The neighbors brought over a flashlight and tonight have invited me for dinner. So it is looking up.

I need help. Your help. How do you know if someone asked you out on a date? I mean if they said "Would you like to go on a date?" Even someone as out of the loop as me could understand that.

What if they said "Would you like to go to dinner?" Is that a date invitation? or a hey I'm being nice to the old single lady next door to me? kind of thing. What if they said "Would you like to come over for a drink?" What does that mean? Are these datey kind of things? How does one know?

I really need some advice on this. Do I get dressed up? Arg! this is hard. Plus, he is really a nice guy and I don't want to do something wrong and end up looking like a serious deranged loon. Do you think I should look for a book? a class? a Ouija board?

Someone, anyone please direct me.

Happy Anniversary to ME!

Happy Anniversary to me! I am celebrating tonight. I am having wine and circus peanuts along with a mini-marathon of The Mentalist on the telly. What a party. Olive will go nuts, for some strange reason the voice of the guy who plays the Mentalist (Simon something or other) drives her into the other room. She is odd, just go with it.

I could show you some more craft projects, but that is boring to you.

I filled out some more job applications, that is boring to me.

It is raining here to beat the band, that is boring for EVERYONE.

I have spent the last few days cleaning the house to have it appraised. The appraiser never showed. I still have a clean house, so that will make the party even more fun.

Last night I went through the Julia Child cookbook that my wonderful neighbor bought for me, and I decided to cook something French to bring to the Halloween party. I hope it works out. It would be just my luck to send everyone to the hospital with food poisoning. Now I need to choose something. Something easy it goes without saying.

I had to call and explain to some companies that I can't pay them right now. They were all super, SUPER nice and extended my payment schedule.

I am selling on Ebay. Right now I am selling off my mermaids. It is hard.

In one year I have become a person I would like to know. In fact, I like me. This is a great anniversary!

Now if only the dogs had sent me a gift, it would totally 100% perfect. They are such lazy asses.

Lucky indeed

So tomorrow is my one year anniversary. The anniversary when I kicked the lying, cheating scum to the curb and said. . . . well, never mind what I said since it was all horrible, mean, and felt oh, so good to say it. One whole year on my own.

Ups and Downs, still more Downs than Ups but starting to balance out. I love the fact that a year has gone by. Now when I look back I have done every day by myself. No more of the "this time last year I was still married. ." nonsense. No Siree, every day mine ALL MINE. Good, bad, and extremely ugly. Still mine.

I have made new friends. I have a Halloween party to look forward to. I have applied for a job. I have fixed things. I have made dishes from new recipes. I have traveled alone, driven alone, and lived alone. All in one year. 365 days. 8766.1536 hours. 525948.766 minutes. 31446925.9936 seconds. All these changes were done in such a short amount of time. With all of these wonderful things, wonderful people, is it wrong to ask for more? I couldn't decide, so I asked anyway and received the best thing ever.

The best thing ever, EVER, is the kid is coming home for a visit. To see me. To come home, my home, his home, our home. With all the bad that he has been through, and trust me when I say a kid SHOULD never have to go through what he did, he still wants to see me. The mother who still feels that she failed him. Let him down. Destroyed his world. This mother gets another great thing.

She who doesn't deserve it, she gets a eighteen year old boy flying all the way home to spend a weekend with his mom.

I am lucky indeed.

Halloween Crafts

My financial situation has hit the OMG we are so sinking like a stone and we are all going to DIE scenario. So that is boring and not any fun to think about, or write about. Until I get it resolved I will be off and on the blogging world.

So, worrying about that is all fun and good but I decided to craft. Halloween crafts. Where I live now I doubt I will get any trick or treaters. My street is mostly second homes and even those are not owned by families with children. The Seattle home on the other hand, was a GOLD mine of children. We would give away over 300 hundred candy bars on that night.

I hit up my local Ross dress for less, the best store EVER, to buy up items that can be remade. I picked up some ugly pumpkins, well the pumpkins weren't ugly but the color was, so I spray painted them white, then using my finger dotted them with black spots. I painted the stems black and gave them a jaunty black and white ribbon. Easy, peasy. On a couple of them, after the white treatment, I took on rub on letters the spelled out Halloween words.

I needed a Halloween gift for the kid. I had some empty boxes I had kept from a paint your own turkey craft we did a few years ago. They came from Pottery Barn and were a pretty nice plain box.
I made two. One to give to my girl friend for her daughter and one for the kid. The one for the kid I'm not going to show, in case (HE HAD BETTER) he reads my blog, I don't want to spoil the surprise. I wish the surprise was that he was coming home, but that is a different blog post.
Anyway, I decoupaged the box in various papers. This is a great project for using up all the little scraps of paper that are left from bigger projects. I set that aside to dry.

I have some rubber stamps that are paper dolls. These are the BEST stamps I have ever bought. They are not made anymore and I really wish I had bought the rest of the outfits. There are lots of companies out there that make doll stamps though, so maybe when my finances turn around I will purchase some other ones. If you are interested, they will be easily found and I have even seen some that you can use brads and make their arms and legs move. SWEET.
I made all the outfits in a Halloween theme. I paper pieced them together so I could use all sorts of different papers. This is very simple and just takes time and glue along with an exacto knife. Cut, glue, cut, glue. I went on a Halloween Ball box and I think it turned out very nice.

I embellished the girls with tattoos, hats and risque undergarments. Colored in their hair, eyes and gave them blushing cheeks. Printed out the words, cut them out, and decoupaged them on to the box. One word of caution, if you have a ink jet printer, decoupage medium will make the colors run. To stop this, you can simply spray a coat of clear coat over the paper, let it dry and then decoupage it. If you have a laser printer, this won't be an issue. In a pinch I have used hairspray but you may run a much better craft room then I do.

One of my blogs I follow has some free clip art, I printed it out, sprayed it, let it dry, cut it out and applied it on the side. Now it is all done except for the mailing.I have to say I am a little nervous about sending it. I have given many gifts of stuff I have made but this will be my first piece of altered art to someone that is not family. I figure it they hate it, just throw it away and buy something at a store.

Spay

Today Olive was spayed. She had no clue what this meant, I on the other hand was overjoyed. I have never actually had a litter of puppies from any of the dogs I have owned over my life, but if they are anything like children I don't want to.

The last Bernese I owned, Alex, I bought to become a show dog. I had big plans. She (and I) were going to be famous. She, because of winning all the dog shows, and I, because I always wanted to run around the ring at the Westminster in a dress and strange flat shoes holding that leash high in the air with the dog prancing beside me. This was my dream.

I contacted breeders. I did my homework. I knew what it would entail and since it seemed harder on the dog then it did on me, I was good to go. I was put on the waiting list for the "perfect dog." I waited and waited and then just for good measure, waited some more. Puppies were born and deemed non-show worthy. Too much white, not enough white, too small, too large. More puppies came and went on to their forever homes, which was not my home. Finally, the call came in. A show puppy was available. I sped to the kennel and brought that little Westminster winner home, thoughts of grandeur occupying my thoughts. I couldn't decide between a shorter dress or a longer, below the knee look. Which would look better with the strange shoes? How should I wear my hair? Where do you buy those strange looking shoes?

I named the future winner Alexandria, after one of my favorite books. I thought that would sound grand when they introduced her to the audience. Her puppies would come from a regal hound with a great sounding name. Turns out there was one small problem with the lovely plan.

The regal hound was a dumb-ass.

Beautiful, yes. Sweet, Oh, yes. Stupid, Oh My God, absolutely.

She was unbelievably dumb. She peed on herself. She ran into the sliding glass door so often, we had to have a curtain made for it. We had to run her to the vets for exams because she cut her head so often. She ate everything she found, keys, coins, small pieces of bark, larger pieces of bark, rocks. X-rays became our gift of choice. Every holiday we exchanged trips to the vet certificates. We broke down and hired someone to help us, since there was no way that dream of taking a victory lap was going to die so easy. They came, they tried, they failed. We hired again. They failed again. We sent her away to become housebroken. She came back, happy, healthy and still able to pee in the house at will.

Then she had her first heat. OH MY GOD! The nightmare still haunts me. I can feel the hives returning to my arms. She was fine with it, after all this was a dog who could happily sleep in her own urine. I was not fine with it. Having white carpet did not make me fine with it. She couldn't go outside. Even though the yard was fenced, every male dog in a 100 mile radius was camped out in our driveway. Vocal complaints about the lack of services provided to them was my daily conversation. The neighbors complained. The front yard started to look like some sort of compost experiment, in fact the inside of the house looked the same. She wanted out to meet her fans and boy did those fans want to meet her!

I was going insane. No longer did visions of trophies occupy my mind, instead it was filled with how much is new carpet, a new yard, bribes to the neighbors going to cost me. How much longer until my house is egged. How much longer can my home smell like a barnyard.

She started pooping in the house.

I shot myself and that dog down to the vet so fast that the pack of suitors were left wondering if the love of their life had been a dream. I had her spayed. She never became housebroken. She never gained an ounce of sense. Running around in circles in the back yard was the closet she came to a winners circle. She never had suitors again. I purchased new carpets for my Valentine's Day present and signed the card "Love Alex." She was a lovely dog. We had her for twelve years. I sometimes miss her when Olive looks at me as she runs into the dining room wall.

No more thoughts of show dogs. I still love Bernese's. They are sweet, kind, beautiful, have a heart of gold and have the silkiest coats EVER. They are however, dumb asses.

Thank Goodness I roll that way.

I need sleep

So it is late in the middle of the night, and yet again I can't sleep.

Insomnia. What a nightmare. Since everything fell apart in my life, my sleep patterns have left the building. I can't sleep. I'm tired when I go to bed. Tired when I turn out the lights. And then BAM! my brain decides to relive every past experience, my eyes fly open and I retrace my steps. Every night, same story.

During the day, I can't get anything accomplished. I can't focus. My mind wanders and I catch myself staring at nothing. I bump into things. I drop things. I bruise myself almost every day. I know it is because I am so tired.

I had some sleeping pills prescribed and for a while sleep was mine. The insurance company, in all their all mighty wisdom, pays for 13 days a month of sleeping pills. 13 days of sleep. The rest of the month, weaning yourself off the sleeping pills while you stay awake all night.

Hot baths. Hot milk (bluck!). Cold room. Lavender spray on my pillows and sheets. Totally dark room. Exercising regularly. Eating right. No caffeine. Nothing works, Nothing changes.

It is like my mind wants or maybe needs to, replay the entire scenario of my life over and over again. Should have done this. What if I had said this. Where am I going? What am I doing?

Nothing gets resolved. I lay and watch the clock numbers change, one by one. I watch the dark outside become light. I listen to the dogs snore and make rumbling noises. I hear the waves crashing on the shore. I know at some point I fall asleep since the alarm wakes me up. But I feel so tired, so bone numbing tired.

Stress is beating the life out of me. I need some sort of release. Some sort of peace at night. Some way to turn off my mind. Some way to come to grips with not having the answers, of never having the answers. Some way of the questions to stop being asked of me.

I need sleep.

For the love of bookstores

I had my big trip into town today. Portland. First time all by myself. I needed to go to Powell's THE BEST BOOKSTORE IN THE WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE.

Powell's has so many wonderful things that make it the best in the universe. However, putting their books on hold section on the fourth floor is not one of them. I dread climbing all those stairs. In fact I dread it so much, I waited until the very last day to retrieve my books on hold. Tomorrow would be the day I would actually have to pay for shipping, so being cheap, I decided today was the day.

Delightful weather made the driving trip, well, delightful. Sunday there are few cars and even fewer trucks. The lack of traffic made for a very speedy trip. One slow down for Krispy Kreme, yummy, and even better a clean restroom, I was back on the road.

All by myself at Powell's, what is a girl to do? Spend blissful hour upon hour just drifting around looking at books. Maybe I want to learn how to raise cattle, saw a book. Maybe I want to learn to applique, saw a book. Maybe I want to know all about book thieves, saw a book, bought the book. Three stories of every type of book imaginable. Really just a slice of heaven right here on earth.

Then I climbed the fouuuuuuuuuuuuuuur flights up to the hold section. Just imagine I wasn't in shape. I would be on the news right now being shown in a very unflattering light. It was worth it in the end. New books. Well, used books, but new to me, so that counts as new.

I lose all sense of reality in a bookstore. To me, it will be the greatest place ever. The opportunity to be anywhere. To learn anything. To recapture the books I loved as a child. To discover new books that I love as an adult. The smell of pages, of adventures, of wonder, of joy, and of sadness. All can be found on the shelves of a bookstore. Some authors heart and soul sitting right there waiting to be discovered. To be enjoyed, or even to be disliked. Still you will never be the same after the last page is turned. It will be within you from now on.

It is a true beauty that bookstores exist. One I don't take for granted. On the plane to Chicago, two passengers had the new electronic book reader and for a moment I envied them. So many books could fit on there. Just imagine how many books I could be carrying around in my purse AT THAT VERY MOMENT.

Today it dawned on me, I don't want that. I need the pages. I need the texture, the turning of the page, the placing of the bookmark, the book waiting on the table for me to return. I need the ritual, the actual being in the book.

I think that if the author took the time to write it down. We should take the time to turn the actual page, to hold the actual book.

Hopefully, this week you will visit your local bookstore and pick up something that will change your life.

Thank Gosh for Seals

The last few days of sun have been shining brightly and so I have taken to doing my morning run down the beach. It is cold, which makes me run faster or sometimes turn around and go home faster. Either way it is faster.

The only other nutcases out there are the shell gathers and other joggers. Sometimes the surfers if the waves are doing what they need to do to be ridden. And seals.

The last few days, seals have come to lay on the beach. They catch some rays. Watch the birds. And nap. And watch joggers. I feel like I am in a movie. Jogging next to the ocean, beautiful sun, hard slightly wet sand and now seals. It seems so unreal.

This afternoon I took the dogs down to the beach for their annual frenzy of the day. They yank me down the rocks. They deposit all sorts of dead, smelly things in front of me, in the hopes that I may be up for a game of catch. They chase the waves and bark at birds. The seals were unimpressed, though I had leashed the dogs up before we arrived on the seals. Still there. Still sunning.

Herbie marched on by and didn't even make eye contact. Olive, well, she is quite the loon. Olive is afraid of many, many things. Things that make absolutely no sense to be afraid of. Opening of the bag cupboard in the kitchen will require a mad dash of flight to the safety of the couch. Boxes of any size, empty or full, and she is gone like the wind. The bird eating his seed. Her leash touching her tail. The dude on the Mentalist tv show. The broom. My coat. Oh, the list is varied and really just endless. Today, the seal. She almost ripped her head off her body leaping backwards. The seal didn't move. Olive howled. The seal didn't move. Olive threw her body on the ground. The seal didn't move. She looked around. Herbie marched over and growled at her. She closed her eyes. Open. Seal. Closed. Open. Seal. You could almost see the wheels in her head turning. I was laughing. Finally, I picked her up and set her on her legs. Started to walk. She followed.

The entire rest of the way home, she was certain we were going to be devoured by a seal. She was the most well behaved dog I HAVE EVER SEEN.

I am going to get me one of those seals permanently.

Adjusting

I think I am adjusting.

I'm not sure to what but I feel better this week. I am coming up on a year since my life broke apart and maybe, just maybe, the worse is behind me. I still have pity parties occasionally but they seem to be coming less with each passing day.

Dealing with ex is still a major pain in my existence. When the house sells maybe even that will go away. I still find it hard to believe I was married to him for so long and now I can't even stand a 3 minute conversation with him. He acts like a moron and it takes every ounce of my willpower to not start screaming obscenities into the phone. The worst part is this is how he treats the kid as well. Doing what he wants, when he wants, how he wants with no regard to anyone around him. Waiting until the kid has .02 cents in his checking account and then giving him money for college. These little things that make such big obstacles in our day to day life and which he finds humorous. Gone, I say, I want him Gone!

Other than that, which really is just a blip on the radar, things are coming along nicely. I still have some scary activities ahead of me. Like dating. Which absolutely terrifies me. The last time I went on a date I was eighteen. Now I am 46 and lets face it pretty much over the hill. I have no clue on how to start and I'm not even sure I want to. It seems quite daunting.

In just one years time, the amount I have learned about myself and what I am capable of is astounding. I never would have believed that I had this in me, this strength. I feel that I have grown by leaps and bounds. Maybe that is why I have a hard time dealing with the ex, he seems weak, petty, annoying. I want to be finished with the old life, the old pain, the old me. Yet, circumstances keep me tied to the past. I have places to go, people to meet, things to do, and I want to get on that. Now.