Empathy

When I sit at my desk in the morning, checking my Google Reader is on of my first activities...it takes a couple of minutes, keeps me updated on my blog-friends, and allows me to prepare to start working (other activities...checking personal email, the news and the stock market). Often, I am spurred to respond and leave Reader to leave a comment on a post somewhere.

(Occasionally, I will leave a witty, sarcastic comment that badly misses the mark on the sarcasm and requires some explaining;-) Like this one.)

So, this morning, I read this from Alana Margaret at Runaway Bunny. I'm not entirely sure how I found her blog, but I added it maybe four months ago and have been reading ever since, even after a change in address. She is, by any measure, a very thoughtful blogger, but I don't know her at all beyond what she has written publicly.  (Let's be honest...the fact that she is a baker/ice cream maker/pastry chef makes me want to be best friends with her). This morning's post made me go back and read some of the archives, which has revealed that we have somewhat similar backgrounds...or at least some key life events that are similar.

Then a weird thing happened, though...I couldn't respond. I just didn't know exactly what to say or how to say it. I kinda knew what I felt, but it wasn't coming out of my head and onto the screen at all. At least not in a way that didn't make me look like a colossal bitch. Which is actually making me think that maybe I am a colossal bitch (keep reading...there is more evidence to support this).

On and off for about four hours, I tried to formulate my thoughts into a coherent response...which seemed to be turning into a twelve paragraph ramble of inconsistent thoughts and somewhat counter-productive anger. Whatever I wrote, I just felt really small and bitter, and I felt like I wasn't getting out what I wanted to say.

I was struck by how differently we viewed a subject, in this case addiction, that we seem to have had similar exposure to. She starts (I am paraphrasing...and hope I am not mis-characterizing) by almost apologizing for having such a deep empathy for people suffering from addiction, for being blessed to not be afflicted with addiction herself, and for not having more time to volunteer with those that are afflicted.

It is, to me, a remarkable sentiment that indicates a humanity that we should all aspire to. And a level of humanity that I, for one, am not remotely close to.

She once wrote, of her mother's long-ago addiction "It never occurred to me that I needed to forgive my mother." That breaks my heart a little bit...not because it is sad - her magnanimity is, in fact, incredibly uplifting - but because it makes me sad that I am so far from being in that place. I don't know that I have forgiven my mother entirely, or if I ever will, and I can't even imagine being in a place where I don't think that what she did to me endowed me with the right to grant or withhold that forgiveness.

Is that petty of me? Yes, it probably is. But that just sounds "fair" to me, despite fair having nothing to do with anything. I never got any say in whether or not to live with a raging alcoholic, and she never chose to listen to my pleas to stop...and as compensation for that, I get the sole and unimpeachable right to decide when, and if, to grant forgiveness. This is not, I know, my most endearing side...

It's a weakness that I am aware of: I am not a very empathetic person (that extends to subjects far beyond substance abuse). If the subject is something that I, maybe arbitrarily, find to be unimportant whining, then I am a terrible listener. I have a frighteningly low tolerance for complaints that I deem to be trivial, or for problems that I think are self-inflicted. For much of my life, I have had very real problems that took up all of my attention, and there was often little help in solving those problems.

I don't have nearly the same kinds of problems these days, but I don't feel like I have ever emotionally opened up the space to care about other peoples' problems in a way that is balanced and healthy. Often, I am unreasonably cynical and dismissive of personal "sob stories," and my snap judgements go to the things that the affected could have done to make his or her life better instead of the unfairness that caused their troubles.

It probably doesn't take a genius to figure out how I got here, or even to figure out some of the reasons that Alana and I may think about this particular subject differently. That, however, is neither here nor there, really. The relevant point is that she seems to see this through a much more humane lens than I do.

And I wish I was more like her.

Foreboding

I am feeling really weirdly edgy today...like I can sense that something bad is about to happen. Or that a whole bunch of things that I have been putting off are suddenly closing in and all going to crash on me all at once.

I don't get it...everything is pretty well in order these days.

Work is going well. I have school figured out. Munchkin is doing awesome. The Boy and I have as seamless a relationship as I know of.

Still, I can't shake the anxiousness.

Beginnings

The move is over and done with (the unpacking? not so much) and went pretty smoothly. The movers were on time, very professional and very fast, so it all got done pretty easily. I had dinner with SHR and The Rocket Scientist, and then I came back to start unpacking. I went out for a bit to meet someone for a drink, but now am back at home. Tonight, my first night in the new/old place, I am alone, and that leads to entirely too much thinking.

There are times that I really enjoy solitude, but for the most part, I don't do well with being alone. This is something my therapist has noted more than once. Munchkin is still away, The Boy is at his parents house tonight, and I declined Smoking Hot Roommate's invitation to sleep at the old place...this is her first night of living with The Rocket Scientist, and I don't want to intrude. She knows of my inability to be alone, though, and was just looking out for me.

Basically, I am a big fucking baby. I am 25 years old and I am scared of being alone by myself at night. I guess I wish The Boy decided to stay with me instead of going to his parents, but I also could have actually told him that. I try to avoid saying things and not meaning them and hoping that he gets the hidden message...but I was sort of lying when I told him he should go.

So, I dunno. I feel surprisingly at home. This place fits really well, and I know it is gonna be a great home. The feeling reminds me of a really old, heavy men's Abercrombie wool sweater that I stole from a friend after he let me borrow it a couple years back...it makes me feel better just to put it on. I am excited to think that I could live here for 5 years. Or 10. Or 15. I can see myself being here for a very long time, and have discussed that with the two other people who might get a vote;-)

I am also scared. Not just of being by myself, but of being more of a grown-up. While I have paid rent while I lived with SHR, the truth is that she was always the adult and I was never really a grown-up. She paid all the bills, took care of all of the things that needed to be fixed, bought all the furniture and really did all the responsible things. The rent that I paid is nowhere near a "market" rent. I have never had my name on a utility bill before (unless you count a cell phone or car insurance.)

It probably sounds kinda stupid...I felt responsible enough to take custody of a child, but not enough to call the fucking cable company. But I have never had to make sure that all of the little household details were taken care of, and it just seems like there are a lot of them to keep track of. I have done plenty of budgeting, so I don't anticipate any problems in paying for it (and no, I am still not paying anything close to a real rent)...it's just all of the details. Like...I don't know where the furnace is, what to do if the heat stops working, or who to call...

Yes, I am aware that all 100 million households in America have somehow solved this mystery...

On the plus side, I do get the master bedroom! That means a big king bed and a kick-ass bathroom with a giant tub. When we lived here before, Munchkin and I shared a bathroom, but we will each have our own now. Speaking of the little one, I talked to her tonight, and she is ready to come home. I think there has been some sixth-grade drama and she is ready to be home and back into her routine.

She has had a wonderful time, and I remain extremely grateful that she is able to do these things. She is really a great kid, and a remarkable person, and she deserves to do all of the cool things that she gets to.

I guess I just wish she was here so that I could make her sleep in my giant king bed tonight.


Next Morning Update: Guess who showed up with coffee and bagels (and to return my car:-P) at 8:30 this morning to spend the first morning in the new place with me? He is very much the sweetheart:-)

My Big (kinda) Sister's Wedding:-)

Normally I don't post at night, but I am feeling kinda skippy and am not sure I will be able to write tomorrow, so I am gonna write some stuff down now. Two subjects, both of which I have a lot to say about.

First, the wedding was absolutely phenomenal, and the whole weekend was just about perfect. We spent the day at the beach (mostly) on Friday. A lot of both his and her family was in town already, and a lot more arrived during the day. So it was a lot of fun to be able to just relax, see some people I know and haven't seen in a while, and to meet a lot of people I didn't know before this. Everyone is obviously in a pretty good mood, since it is a wedding and a vacation for a lot of people.

The rehearsal dinner was totally low-key, but TONS of fun. The original plan, way back when, was to do a pretty traditional dinner at a restaurant...but that got nixed. Instead, they did a clambake on the front lawn at the house, and it was awesome! The caterer came with huge boiling vats, and grills and cooked just a massive mountain of lobsters and steamers and corn on the cob, as well as chicken and steak for the non-seafood lovers. It was a really great way to see people in a really relaxed environment again. Plus, The Boy arrived ahead of schedule, which was an awfully nice surprise for me:-) It is possible that we had sex in the three minutes that we took to "bring his bag upstairs"...but I will never tell...:-)

Saturday was actually not nearly as hectic as I had thought it would be. Part of that is because Big Sis was totally cool the whole time, and not at all spazzed out over the whole thing. Truth be told, she was never a "bride" during this whole process. She really cut out tons of the bullshit that girls get encouraged to spend tons of time on that ends up driving them crazy. Seriously...no one cares about the fucking invitations. If you spent more than 20 minutes ordering them, you wasted a lot of time. OK, I am digressing...

So, she didn't really sweat any of the details, and that relaxes everyone else. The ceremony started at 5:00, and we were actually sitting on the beach until almost noon. Then it was upstairs to get ready...which meant to shower, then to eat lunch, and then to have our hair done. Big Sis had the hairdressers come to us, which was really nice:-) There was a lot of craziness in the house while the caterers got all the tables and chairs set up and started cooking and whatnot, but we avoided all of that. Basically, the seven of us in the bridal party showered and dressed at our leisure, chatted, ate, and drank a lot of champagne.

Munchkin was gorgeous...like really breathtaking. She looked so grown up, and like such a little lady. I knew I would cry when I saw her all dressed and made up, but both Smoking Hot Roommate and Big Sis did some crying, too. It is just the sort of moment that makes me think about a lot, and to see her look so beautiful, and so happy...well, it is just a lot to take. Yes, I am welling up again...moving on...

The ceremony was stunning. It was a gorgeous night, so they did the ceremony out on the side of the house, looking out over the ocean. I managed to fulfill my bridesmaid duties without a hitch (walk slow, smile, hold flowers, file out in order...). Munchkin thought the idea of walking down the aisle on the arm of a really good looking guy in a tuxedo (The Brain Surgeon's friend from medical school) and then getting to dance with him at the reception was just about the coolest thing ever, so she thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

I might have possibly cried a bit during the ceremony, too:-) Big Sis was absolutely beaming, as brides usually do. He dress was amazing...simple and elegant and really flattering... she looked gorgeous and so incredibly happy, and that made me cry a bit, too:-) Yeah, I cry easily, what's your point?

After that, we took pictures on the beach, and over in the garden, which wasn't too painful. I haven't seen them yet, and the photographer said it would be a couple weeks before they were all online, so don't hold your breath on those...lol. Remind me in a month... We had plenty of time to mingle during the cocktail hour, which was on the lawn, as the sun was starting to go down and was, well, just about perfect. Appetizers and cocktails are my favorite part of weddings:-)

And the reception was great as well:-) Great food, great music, fun people...I danced for like the whole time. I ditched my shoes almost right away (it is nice to be taller, but it is even nicer to not be in hideous pain...) but my feet and back and legs are still killing me from dancing for like five straight hours. I feel like I drank a ton...but I was barely tipsy, so I must have done OK. I let Munchkin have a half of glass of champagne during the toast, which the caterer yelled at me about...my bad:-D The Boy got kinda wasted, and was a really cute drunk...right up to the point that I didn't get laid because he passed out...(boo!!!)

I realize that this is kind of the cliff notes version, but it is hard to get a whole weekend wedding extravaganza into one post. You can email if you have specific questions;-) I do, however, want to highlight Smoking Hot Roommate's incredibly touching toast, which reduced her father (and a lot of other people) to a blubbering mess for a minute. She talked briefly about losing their mom, and about how much Big Sis had meant to her after that. And then, to close, she said "Brain Surgeon, I really wish our mother could have been here, because she really would have liked you." Waterworks...

So that made me cry for like the fourth time, although that was the last one, I think;-)

We saw everyone again this morning for a final brunch, which was a nice way to say goodbye to everyone. Then we packed up this afternoon and drove home only to find that it is brutally hot and humid in the city...and I guess it was all weekend. It was pretty darn nice at the beach;-)

Now, on to issue #2, which is that I am getting really nervous. I am taking Munchkin to the airport in the morning so she can go to Chicago for a week to visit her brother. She is really excited, even though she is so exhausted from the weekend that she fell asleep at 7:30. I'll pack her bag for her so she doesn't have to do it in the morning...she needs her rest.

And then Tuesday morning I have to go in for my surgery. There is a part of me saying "Why am I doing this if I don't really have to?" but the lump continues to freak me out and irritate me, so I will go nuts if I don't get it removed. I also kinda wish Munchkin was gonna be around. I am doing it this week specifically because she won't be, which will make it easier, but I also know that I would feel better if she were there when I got home. Yes, I am a dork...I know.

I will be in the hospital all day, but don't have to stay over. I don't need general anesthesia, which is good...I don't like the idea of that. But the doctor said it will not be a totally minor procedure, and that I will be in quite a bit of pain for a couple days, and then discomfort for a while. So that part doesn't sound fun. But I will live:-) And I will feel better when the lump is gone, that's for sure.

So that is about it...wedding was great, Munchkin is off on another vacation, and I am getting nervous;-) Wish me luck!

Back!

We cut our trip a little short...Big Sis had a quasi-emergency at work, so we left last night and got in real late. I chose to sleep in and come to work at 10:00;-) I'm not quite as motivated as the rest of them...lol. My additional thoughts on SHR will come tomorrow.

The trip was really fun. I got some quality time with my two west coast girls, made some new friends, won a little gambling (a very little, I don't gamble much!) and basically just go to relax and have fun with some of my favorite people. Nothing too out of control, although anytime you take that many girls away from their husbands and other attachments, funny stuff happens. One of Big Sis' friends has two little kids (Irish twins...lol...I learned that phrase;-)) and basically hadn't had a vacation (or a drink!) in like two years...she was like a little kid in a candy store!

All in all, it was wholesome, clean fun:-D Hee hee...at least the parts I am willing to cop to, were...

My next agenda item is that I am hosting a dinner party this Saturday. I am kind of nervous, to be honest, as this is really like an adult thing to do. There are going to be 32 people, which I feel like is a really big party. We do have enough room...although it requires clearing out the living room so two big tables can fit in.

I'm excited, too. The school parents have all been kind of looking out for me and for Munchkin, so I want to show them that I really appreciate it and that we are doing ok. The Boy is going to be out of town, so he will miss it, but Smoking Hot Roommate is gonna be my date, and she will suit the situation just fine...lol.

Anyway...I think everything is sort of all set for it (meaning that I have a caterer who says everything is all set...lol). Anyone have any words of warning? Things I shouldn't do, or should do? Anything?

(Not) Giving Blood

You have to weigh 110 pounds to give blood in Massachusetts. Is this the same everywhere? I have to admit, a small part of me feels let down that I can't pitch in to improve communal health...but there is a much larger, more embrassing part that is relieved. I hate needles and I hate blood.

For the record, I was willing to donate, but I am not terribly upset that they won't let me. Sometimes being a dwarf isn't so bad;-)

The second tree

Back to my story…I promise it gets better than it has been…lol. I went to bed before hearing from The Boy Saturday night and I was not real happy about it. I kind of figured that we would have to have an awfully uncomfortable “talk” the next day, which made me feel kind of sick to my stomach.

I got a text message from him at about 3:30, though… “Love you. Miss you. Don’t want to fight. I am sorry for being ass. Breakfast tomorrow?” That made me feel a whole lot better…I am not really in the mood to go through a breakup this month… Of course, I also knew that he was probably kinda drunk, so I figured I would make him work for it and texted him back to meet me at 8:00. Yeah, mean of me, I know, but that’s what he gets:-P

Anyway, we did have kind of a “talk” but it was all good. His sister actually called me at about quarter of 8:00 to tell me that he had called her the night before and was all crazy because he thought he had fucked up. Which is also kind of cute…and let me in on what I was gonna hear at breakfast.

Anyway, we had a lengthy discussion, only a little bit of which I want to get into here. I guess the nutshell is that I am a pain in the ass to date (my words, not his) but he is ok with that. I think I have to say at this point, as I have before, that he is abundantly patient and understanding. He’s hot, he’s got a great job and very few of his friends need to clear time on their babysitting schedules to hang out....meaning that he could probably have less aggravation in his life with someone else.

One of his very best friends just got engaged last week…to a girl that he started dating at almost the same time that we first began dating (about a year and a half ago.) To be honest, I think he is probably a little jealous of the simplicity. They met, they became infatuated, dated a lot, took some vacations together, moved in together in September and now are getting married. Then they can work on having kids shortly after that. Nice and easy, just like they draw it up in the books.

But I am not quite that simple…I come with some baggage. Really cute and fun baggage, but baggage nonetheless. If he had shown up for breakfast and said “This just isn’t gonna work. I need someone who can make me more of a priority and is on a timeline I want to be on,” then I would have been really upset, but I would have understood.

The good news is that he didn’t say that, or even anything close. I think he just had a brief crisis when he thought about the fact that a “timeline” for us won’t lead to marriage for probably three years, minimum (ok…I can’t even believe I just wrote that, it gives me hives…) I don’t know when I would think about having kids… maybe never.

Anyway, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted after that. I definitely wanted to…um…
“seal the deal”, so to speak…but he was clearly exhausted, so I figured I would give him a couple hours to rest. And shower…lol.

I went back over to his place during the football games later to help him decorate his Christmas tree and have a whole bunch of sweaty sex. I don’t know if I would say it was make-up sex, since we weren’t really fighting. Mostly I just hadn’t been laid in almost a week and had some serious fucking to get out of my system. And so did he, which led to a pretty good afternoon…actually a playful kind of fun sex afternoon that involved some whipped-cream-enhanced oral sex.

I don’t really think I would normally qualify as “kinky” per se, but I do like to have fun. And I was certainly not in the mood to object to some relationship-repairing fun sex. So if he wants to spend an hour giving me oral sex with whipped cream, well who am I to object?

The first tree

Seems like I only got halfway done last night, so I should finish my story. Actually, I am not going to finish it now, but I will get through some more and then finish it later one, hopefully.

When I left you, I was kind bummed because The Boy was pissed at me for not being around enough, and he was kind of being bitchy about it.

Anyway, Saturday morning was Christmas tree time. Me, Munchkin and Smoking Hot Roommate (no boys allowed!) drove to a farm near where SHR grew up to buy a tree and some other stuff. Yes, there is a working farm in the city of Boston (or maybe it is in Brookline, not sure…either way, it is definitely inside Route 128…how is that for slinging the local lingo?)

We actually brought another girl with us, too…we will call her Daisy and she is the cutest little golden blond you have ever seen, from the tip of her nose, right down to her 20 toes. And her tail. Hee hee…Papa Bear’s dog, but we borrowed her because dogs like farms.

We got a beauty of a tree and then brought it back home, at which point we realized that the “No boys allowed” policy left us without anyone to carry the stupid thing into the building for us. Never fear, chicks rule, so we lugged it in ourselves…and then cleaned up the trillion pine needles that we lost on the way. Oops!

We had the tree up and decorated by about 2:00, and it’s a peach! Now I just need to get some presents to put underneath it…more on that some other time.

Earlier, I had gotten a call from another school mom…every year she and three other women take their daughters for an afternoon of lunch, shopping and other associated girlie stuff right before Christmas and they wanted us to come. So we met them after lunch. In the meantime, I called The Boy to tell him where I was going and because I hadn’t talked to him and still felt kind of shitty about the way things were left on Friday.

He didn’t answer, which probably means he didn’t want to talk to me, so I just left him a message saying I hope he had a good time and I hate feeling like he is mad at me and hopefully we could get a chance on Sunday to talk because I just don’t like feeling like that.

Shopping was actually kind of fun. Five little girls in one group leads to a lot of screeching and giggling, but it was still pretty cute. Then we had dinner and went to see Happy Feet, which is really cute.

I have to say, my little twerp of a sister is really a tough kid…she is completely fearless. She knows her way around the city so well, and is completely at ease going anywhere or doing anything. I feel like most kids are kind of intimidated by busy places…heck, sometimes I feel like it is intimidating…but she is just completely unfazed by the whole thing. She told me “I can just take the T to Copley and meet them if you don’t want to go…” And she totally could. Not that I would let her, but I think it is amazing that she is comfortable enough to do that. Hmm…this could turn out to be a problem later on in life, but for now I am proud of her. I feel like if she got lost somewhere and didn’t know where she was, she would probably just hail a cab to take her home.

Note to self…remind her not to take any cabs on her own…

Anyway, I got off track a bit, and I have to get back to work, so I will wrap up here and finish later on. We got home at about 10:00, and still no word from The Boy, which had me really, really bummed out. I made Munchkin sleep with me again:-( She is good like that.

My second grumpy post already today:-(

I already went through the top reason why I feel like shit today, but here are the others.

Second, The Boy is mad at me. He wanted to have a date last night and told him that I was too tired and didn’t have a babysitter and just generally didn’t feel like going out. All of which is true, but this was sort of the only night we had free through about the middle of next week, so I guess I was kind of blowing him off a bit. I invited him to come over to our place and hang out, but he gave me a snippy “No, you should get to bed early if you are tired.”

That has me feeling like shit, too. He did leave me a really sweet message saying that he was sorry he snapped at me and he was just upset that he wouldn’t really get to see me for a bit and that he felt really bad about it. So, I do feel better about it, but I still feel kind of shitty…he is extremely patient with me, and has been really good about dealing with all of my baggage. At the same time, it has to wear on him, and I don’t know how fair it is of me to expect him to keep putting up with it…there’s a lot of girls out there who don’t come with children (gulp…almost teenagers). That sounds worse than it should, I know, and I may regret posting it in an hour or so, but I will deal with that then.

Third, Munchkin had a really bad dream last night and woke up crying. Fortunately, she was sleeping in my bed so she wasn’t alone, but she was still shaken up. She said it wasn’t really about anything, but then she told Smoking Hot Roommate this morning that she dreamt that I died. I know she is being nice not to tell me that, but I still wish she would tell me. [There is a story behind this dream…some day soon, I promise]. I don’t like when she cries and I can’t help her…it is the worst feeling in the world.

Fourth, I have some general seasonal anxiety. I have a ton of work to do this month, plus all kinds of Christmas parties and events to go to, plus a lot of shopping, plus a trip to Chicago which now includes visiting my father. It is all kind of piling up and I am feeling a bit overwhelmed, which is a feeling I get occasionally.

The good news is that there is a cure for this...like any good, unbalanced girl of the 21st century, I have a therapist on speed dial… Ok, not exactly speed dial, but I do have someone that I see sometimes. It started because the court made it a condition of my custody arrangement that Munchkin and I go regularly after our mother died. That was supposed to last for like six months, but after about three, she told me that Munchkin was amazingly well-adjusted and we didn’t have to go that often.

I, however, am not quite as well adjusted, which means I have been going off and on for a year and a half now. Well, today is one of those days, and she made some time for me tonight, so hopefully that helps. It usually does.

Yesterday Voice Mail, today Email

Still out on the road, and very much looking forward to getting home tonight and sleeping in my own bed...

I got a weird email today from someone…I won’t mention the person’s name via email, but feel free to comment if you want people to know who you are. I am not sure why this bothered me, but it did.

Long story short, it said that I seem to talk a lot about how great private school is and that I shouldn’t write it as if I am disparaging public schools, and that just because a school has a he tuition bill doesn’t mean it is a good school.

Not that I disagree, I just find it really weird that it came to me. It’s not like I am widely-read authority on schooling, after all. Who the fuck cares what I think, and why should I feel like I need to make soapbox speeches in support of public schools? I don’t really see where this is my responsibility. But I am willing to defend my decision making (even if I don’t know why I need to.)

First of all, I live in Boston and the Boston Public Schools are simply terrible. I am not going to send her to a shitty school if I don’t have to. I have been told that when kids are entering 7th grade they should look into Boston Latin School, which is a public school but one you have to get admitted to, and I will do that when the time comes.

And I don’t think it is a good place for her because it costs a lot. I think it is a good place because her classes are small, the teachers are committed, the parents are involved, the facilities are remarkable, the curriculum is challenging and the resources available to the kids to tackle that curriculum are fantastic. It is also within a five minute walk of where we live and where I work, so she is never far from me and I can get her to and from school easily.

Also, I got the schools annual report the other day and they listed the college destinations of last years graduating seniors. There were 23 kids, and I think 3 went to Harvard, 3 MIT, 3 Yale, 2 Princeton, and then one each to Dartmouth, Northwestern, Stanford, Oxford, Duke, Berkely, Cal Tech and places like that. The "dumb" kid from the class went like the University of Virginia or something. I don’t care what the tuition is; they are doing something right over there.

So yes, I just wasted ten minutes writing a response that I had no reason to write. But whatever, I felt like it:-P

Holidays

OK, I will lay off the X-rated postings today…that didn’t seem to go over well (I can’t help it, it’s me).

I want to talk about Holidays, which I think I have sort of touched on, but want to again. Holidays tend to exacerbate emotions. If you are happy, then they make you happier, but if you are depressed, they tend to make you more so. They bring with them a certain kind of stress and intensity that just makes everything more intense. Especially Christmas, but Thanksgiving as well.

I used to get really bad seasonal depression, and I think the Holidays made it much worse. Fall and winter made me terribly depressed…cold weather, short days, I am not sure what it was. And then Thanksgiving and Christmas always seemed to highlight for me what other people had that I didn’t.

I hate Christmas specials and movies…HATE them. Or at least I used to, I could never stand to watch all of the happy, wealthy, two-parent families enjoying each other’s company in a healthy and productive way. The whole season just made me feel lost, inferior and abandoned.

The depression went away when I moved to Arizona. That, of course, makes a pretty good case that the cold weather has something to do with it…and it might. Mostly I think it was just the completely different mood of the place and of everyone I know. I feel like the people I knew in Chicago always felt a combination of beaten down, victimized, unlucky and resentful. They were unwilling or unable to let themselves really be happy because they suffered, and often took great pleasure in their suffering.

The people I met at school came from a totally different perspective, though. Things weren’t always conspiring against them and wouldn’t always turn out bad. People were genuinely willing to enjoy what they had and the people around them. I think it changed the way I look at the world and made it easier for me to spot the things I should appreciate.

I didn’t get any of the depression issues last winter, which is a good sign. Obviously, if it is the weather, than Boston is going to be just as bad as Chicago. I was also so ridiculously busy last winter that I never even had time to stop and think about whether or not I was sad…hopefully it doesn’t come back this winter.

And so far, so good. I kind of made my peace with the Holidays over the last few years, and I think I am genuinely looking forward to them this year. Well, maybe not the Christmas shopping part, but all the rest of it.

Munchkin's Brother

I feel like I should touch a little bit on Munchkin’s older brother. He is a pretty important part of her life, and therefore is part of mine. I would say that our relationship has been strained over the years, but is pretty good now.

He is about two years younger than me, the son of Munchkin’s father (my mother’s husband). As such, he and Munchkin have the same last name, something of which I am at least a little bit jealous. Not that jealous, but a little (okay, I have considered changing my name, since mine essentially has no meaning as it is.)

I have known him since my mother and his father met, which was when I was about 12. We were never at all close, but I wouldn’t say that we really fought either…more often than not he was living with his mother, but he did bounce in and out of our house. He kind of always had a way of finding trouble, never really bad stuff, but always some kind of mischief. And then right before he finished High School he got arrested for the third or fourth time, this time for stealing cars, and got sent to jail for a little bit (I wanna say 6 months or so, but am not sure).

Munchkin doesn’t know this, and anyone who reads this and knows me is to NEVER mention this to her. She absolutely adores her big brother and he is very good to her. So mum is the word.

He got out of jail about four months before my mother told me that she was sick, and then he was involved in suing me for custody of her. That obviously was not something that I appreciated terribly, not did I appreciate him and my aunt telling Munchkin things like I was trying to "steal her" and "make her go to a scary, strange place" and "keep her away from her cousins". Whatever, water under the bridge.

The problem was that Munchkin really likes her brother and I couldn’t…nor did I want to…just keep her away from him. Which meant that I had to find some way to be civil so she could see him and not realize that I hated him or that I was concerned about her spending too much time around the ex-con.

The good news for me is that he has changed a lot, which has made it a lot easier. After jail he went to work for a mechanic (I guess if you can steal cars, you can fix them too) and has been gainfully employed there ever since. He also has a girlfriend who is a complete sweetheart and is, I think, the real reason he has mellowed out.

She comes across as timid and sort of shy, but I think she knows exactly what she wants, and is determined to get it. I also think she knows his past and has made it pretty clear that he does not get any slip-ups. And to that end they have moved away from the old neighborhood a little bit, and as far as I know (and I have pretty good sources) he never sees any of his old friends anymore, which is all very good.

Basically, he has just gotten his act together. He has a pretty good job, a wonderful girlfriend and they talk about saving and buying a house in the suburbs. The last time he was here, he started asking me all kinds of questions about saving and investing and stuff like that. I think the idea of him making plans like that is a very good sign. [Secret!!! They are actually engaged, but haven’t told anyone because everyone will yell at them that they are too young. But they told Munchkin and she was pretty happy about being the only one to know;-)]

They come out to visit about once every two months. The first times they came I chickened out and made them stay in a hotel rather than with us. But since then, I feel good enough about it to let them stay with us, and in truth they are pretty easy guests. Usually me and Smoking Hot Roommate take his girlfriend out for a day and do girlie stuff while he and Munchkin do something together. She gets super excited for at least a week before they come.

He still does some things that annoy me, but I may be overly sensitive about it. Like we went to see her school one day and he said, maybe joking "Her parents would have hated this place." And while he is correct, I don’t really care and it bothered me that he would say it. Again, he was probably just joking, but there is also a chance he was just being snippy.

And like I said yesterday, he took a lot of the heat off of me from his half of her family by telling them all that the Europe trip was a great idea. When I first told him, he even said that he would help pay for it if need be, which was nice of him. And before she left, he gave her a stack of postcards addressed to him so she could write him every day, which she did;-)

One last thing, he did finally formally apologize to me for the whole suing thing. He told me that it was wrong of him to do it and that she was much better off with me than with anyone in Chicago. I know it can be hard for people to say sorry sometimes, so I appreciated it. So I would say that our relationship is pretty good, and any friend of Munchkin’s is a friend of mine;-)

Busy Monday

Super busy morning...tons of stuff and most of it is WAAAY over my head. And now I am really tired and frustrated at how little I have gotten done and how much I have left to do. And I am eating Chinese takeout for lunch which is just unbelievably awful. But I really want to do a good job for my two bosses today so that they don't think it was a waste to bring me out here. Which means I should stop complaining.

I have to take a moment to talk about exactly how awesome Smoking Hot Roommate is, though. As a roommate, I come with a certain amount of "baggage" which there is no reason to expect a gorgeous, super-cool 22 year old girl to voluntarily take on. She does it, though, and is great about it all the time. There is a certain amount of parenting responsibility that comes from living with a kid, and she could very easily want nothing to do with that, but she does a lot of it, and she gets a super special, extra warm spot in my heart for it.

I am away tonight, which means that she is responsible for getting Munchkin at school and bringing her home, getting her fed and helping her with any homework she needs help with and watching her and getting her to bed. Obviously, it sort of rules out any other plans she may have had. She doesn't have to take on that responsibility, but she does, and I lover her for it.

Big Sis and Papa bear both get a really similar shout out for doing the same thing a lot, but Smoking Hot Roommate gets more of it, and is kind enough to charge me a MUCH below market rate rent as well:-D

Which kind of gets to the thing I was talking about the other day about families and holidays. And I think Ally was dead on with her comment...not that I don't think The Boy will be around forever (yeah, I am pretty sure he will...there, I said it) but there are certain things that are reserved for families. And I may not be part of the family in the strictest sense, but that is just a detail. They are my family and I am part of theirs and I want to spend Holidays with them because that is who you should be with...the most special people on the most special days.

OK, this went from irritated to corny really, really fast. Sorry about that;-)

Discussing the Past

I have some time here before we go out tonight…I have been shopping for a while (kids are really expensive…REALLY expensive) and Munchkin is napping happily on the couch next to me. And I want to talk about another thing I forgot to mention from a couple days ago.

If I could get a little familiar for a second…I think the mood for the following conversation with The Boy has to be set. I had just finished giving him a blow job, which is incidentally one of my very favorite things and something which I will write at length about some day (I seem to promise that a lot…) So we were in the brief time that he was catching his breath and recovering, and I was unbelievably wound up and waiting for him to be ready to go again so that I could get my rocks off…

So while we were laying there (it is kind of a weird dynamic…one person is just absolutely aching to get on to the fucking while the other one is kind of in afterglow) and I asked “How many girls have you slept with?” And literally, the question was halfway out of my mouth and I wished I could have taken it back.

Why? Because it is pretty obvious what follows that…and it was not a question that I really wanted to answer right then and there. So, as expected, he answered with a number that was probably pretty average for a good looking, charming 28 year old guy. And the number itself was not a problem, other than it being WAY less than the answer to the follow-up question from him “How about you?”

Now, I am not a slut. But I do like sex, and I have always liked sex, and I have had a lot of it. I consider a slut to be someone who sleeps with lots of people because of a lack of self esteem that causes a need for validation by sleeping around. I recognize that this is not a universal definition, and that there are a lot of people that would consider me a slut just because of the number of people I have been with. But every person I have ever had sex with has been someone that I had some connection to and genuine like for. I am not sure that makes sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to me.

Back to my story…I am not ashamed or embarrassed of anything I have ever done, and The Boy knows that I am…ahem…not a virgin…because I have told him. Nothing to hide, and nothing I don’t feel I can tell him.

But still, the number itself, which I do know and could recreate in list form exactly, is pretty large. Not large like “432” large, but the number of guys I have been with is larger than The Boy’s number by a factor of about 3.

So yes, once I asked the question I immediately wished that I still had his dick in my mouth and couldn’t have said anything…lol. But then he asked me, and I will admit that I hesitated for a second but then I figured “What the fuck, if he has a problem with it, then I don’t know him like I think I do.” So I told him…I guess in hindsight I could have trimmed the number a bit, but what is the point in that? As Popeye says, I yam what I yam.

I think I sensed some surprise from him….he knows a lot of it, but he is also four and a half years older than me and might have figured that his head start would give him more of a chance;-) He gave me a momentarily disturbing “Really?” but that was kind of about it. And then he said “Well then, I better up my game if I am gonna impress you.”

After that he rolled over on top of me, and as he entered me, I very clearly thought “No you don’t. I am already pretty impressed.”

&'s

One very cold soccer game this morning…at 7:30, it was pretty chilly. I did get to break out my little blue wool stocking hat with a cartoon chicken that says “Chicks Rule!” so it wasn’t too bad…hee hee. This was the last game of the season, too.

I got an email yesterday addressed to a bunch of people, asking if anyone wanted to get together next weekend. Really normal, regular kind of thing. One problem though…in the address bar, everyone is listed by the name that the person has them as in their address book. And lo and behold, my email address…MY email address…is listed as “Accidentally Me & The Boy”.

Whoa…

When did I become an &? I don’t want to be an &!!! Maybe someday, but not for a while. Right now I am very happy being a me…I am an individual with my own personality, my own quirks, my own talents and my own value as a human being. This is not to say that I have never considered the possibility of becoming an &, and specifically being Mrs. Boy. The subject has even come up in passing, but always with the understanding that this is like a “years away” not “months away” kind of thing.

Why does this bother me? I know, it shouldn’t…it is one silly thing that one person wrote next to my email address in her address book. But seriously…what gives her the right to call me an &? That is MY decision. Well, I guess it is our decision, because he sure has a vote, too;-)

But am I at risk of forfeiting my individuality? And did I ever have it? I guess I did during college, when I was most definitely a Me. And then after that I kind of gave it up (not really, but part of it) to be a Mom. And now I don’t want to give up the rest of it to be an &.

At least not yet. I know some people are really looking to settle down, have kids, and be a “couple”. By the way, I absolutely hate the word “couple”…I once told a friend I wasn’t coming to her party because she described it as “Oh, we are just having you guys and a few more couples over”…yea, I am kind of nuts, I know.

I guess I wish that I knew what I wanted in that sense. Take a gander at Green Line Boy. As best I can tell (and I apologize for psychoanalyzing at a distance) he and his girlfriend started dating like two and a half months ago and are both completely committed to being &’s. They seemed to jump right into the stage where they had to see each other virtually every day.

Is there something wrong with me? The Boy and I have been together, officially, for almost 8 months now, and I don’t feel like I am nearly ready for that kind of a relationship. Actually, I take that back…I think we might have that kind of relationship…but I am not ready to start to give up my individuality, nor do I want him to do that, in exchange for being known as a couple.

I never want to be known as half of something. I want to be known as my own person, and I want him to be, too.

Is this possible? Am I pursuing the impossible?

Families and Holidays

I forgot to mention…I got a really cute email from Boyfriend’s Mom yesterday regarding dinner the other night. It was actually a really sweet note about how much they like me being in The Boy’s life.

Then at the end there was just a (possibly) throw away line: “We’d love if you and Munchkin made it to Thanksgiving with us this year.”

Now, holidays are a big deal in his family. His great-grandmother is still alive, so her entire family tree makes a point of gathering as often as possible, which is a LOT of people. I kinda wish they wore nametags to make it easier…lol [Did I mention that the first time I met my father’s family they all wore name tags for me? How cute is that?] And being invited to the big family gathering is no small deal…The Boy was actually kind of hesitant to bring me around because it can be overwhelming, but he finally did for Great Grammy’s birthday last summer. And none of them bite…lol

And I would love to go. Obviously, The Boy is pretty high on my list of people I like to be around;-) and so is his sister and her wife. At this point I know a lot of the other family, too and like seeing them.

So what is the problem, you ask? And please don’t yell at me for this, because I am fragile…lol…but I have too many families now. The irony, of course, being that much of my life has been spent wishing I had more of one, and suddenly I have an embarrassment of riches.

For the last year or two, most Holidays I have spent with Smoking Hot Roommate, Big Sis and Papa Bear and their extended family. They really make me feel like part of the family (when I am home sometime I will tell you what they gave me for my birthday, but I am gonna bawl like an infant, so I can’t do it here), and this is really the first time I have ever looked forward to Holidays just because of the way it makes me feel to be included.

But there is also the Chicago family (families, actually). I would love to see my father’s family more, and these are always great times to do that. There are also some members of my mother’s family that I would like to see as well (others that I would like to see only so I can hit them over the head with a brick). And finally, there is Munchkin’s father’s family, which I feel obligated to get her out to see as often as possible, too. Truthfully, I could do without many of them (like the ones that sued me…) but she should see them.

And then now there is The Boy’s family, too. So while Thanksgiving at The Boy’s sounds like a lot of fun, it would mean missing Thanksgiving with SHR, PB and BS. And either would mean not getting back to Chicago, as well.

Believe me, having too many families is WAY better than the alternative. And I don’t want to sound like I am complaining, because I really am not. I guess I am just lamenting that sometimes there isn’t enough time to see all the people you love, and you have to sacrifice the time with some of them in exchange for others. And that leaves you at risk of missing out on the memories that REALLY make families.
Which I guess is my problem…I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. Most people get a lifetime to be with their families…I kind of stumbled onto mine when I was in my 20’s. So I have 20 years worth of memories and occasions to catch up on, and there just aren’t enough Holidays.

More about best friends

Okay, I thought of this because I was talking about BFFb.

The Boy has lots of friends…which I think we can agree is a good sign. Basically, people like him and like to be around him. Me included:-)

And lots of his friends are girls, which I am not only ok with, but I actually really like. I think guys and girls who can maintain close friendships with the opposite sex display a measure of balance in their personality that I appreciate. This includes on of his very, very closest friends, who I am going to call McBeal. Why? Because she is a lawyer and she is really cute, although she doesn’t have an eating disorder.

McBeal is not only The Boy’s friend, but she is engaged to another of his very closest friends, an old roommate from college (I watched Animal House last week, so his college roommate is hereby called “Otter”). McBeal also dated The Boy before she started dating Otter. The Boy was very upfront with this and told me (most of) the whole story…that he dated McBeal in College but that they sort of fizzled and it was pretty clear that she and Otter had a chemistry that they hadn’t, so about a year after he and McBeal broke up, she and Otter started dating.

Everyone is copasetic; everything is out in the open, yadda yadda yadda.

All fine. I have no problem being friends with girls that my boyfriend has had sex with, and I have no problem introducing him to guys I have fucked, either. Beyond that, she is really nice and made a big effort to make me feel comfortable with all of his friends.

I should back up…they are a pretty close group of like 15 people, some of whom have dated each other, some of who still do, and a couple of which are married to each other or will be. I think I had met them all once or twice when McBeal called me one day and said that the girls in the group were having a girl’s night and I should come with. And I like them all, and they all seem to like me and have been really warm and inviting.

One little thing…I was having lunch with McBeal one day and just casually asked how long she and the boy had dated, because I didn’t know and never thought about it.

“Two years.”

Two years?!?!? That caught me a little bit off guard. I am ok with knowing girls he dated, and knowing girls he fucked, but dating someone for two years? That is a LONG time, and I am not real sure how I feel about that.

I think I am ok with it because it is clear that there is nothing left…Otter would probably be the most sensitive to it, and is awfully close to both of them, and he has no problem with it. I asked him about it once and he just laughed and assured me that there was nothing to worry about.

And I know he is right, but it still weirds me out a bit. I mean, that means she met his whole family as his girlfriend, and was definitely on the “marriage track” if there is one. Can you totally wash all that out of your mind?

Do I have a right to question this? And what exactly am I questioning?

Am I nuts? I am not really a paranoid person, but am I being crazy?

This actually happened like two months ago and I am sort of past it, but I would be interested to hear anyone’s thoughts. So shoot me an email or leave a comment if you have any ideas…