Stolen Moments

... snippets of conversations... interrupted by the unyielding demands of daily life... a few 'I love yous'... and then hours pass as I wait for the next call.

For now, all we have are stolen moments and I am growing weary from needing you so much.

What was and is and is to come...

No, I'm not talking about the Messiah... although the season is perfect for such a discussion... I'm talking about my life.  It's been an interesting - sometimes trying - period in my life these past several months.  Since reuniting with JJ, I have found myself in the position of completely rethinking my life.  Until July 28th, I had a well-ordered - albeit solitary - plan.  My work was my primary focus... a long and distinguished career with a well-known company, a legacy as a philanthropist and a little local fame as a singer.  Today, I find that entire plan has gone by the wayside. The career that I thought I would have has evaporated due to corporate reorganization and I have quite literally divested myself of nearly all of my worldly possessions.  At times like these, one is left to consider who they are in the world and what their legacy will be.  It seems that I now have the opportunity to completely reinvent my future.

One of my biggest 'learnings' in this process has been that things do not define me.  It was a difficult lesson, because I come from a family -- or at least a mother -- who believes that, in some way, we are what we have.  I have always believed that we are a sum of our experiences, and therefore, what we have serves as a reminder of those experiences... and therein lies the struggle for me of separating the things from the memories and thus from myself and my idea of who I am.  Over the course of the past several months, I have, indeed, separated myself from my things - reevaluated the importance and relevance of each thing and then carefully selected those things that I want to take with me into my new life and let go, mourned, or purged everything else.  It's been cathartic... cleansing... brutal... healing... so many things all wrapped up into an emotional maelstrom that has ultimately served to smooth the rough edges, define the path forward and strengthen me beyond anything I imagined.

In the midst of all of this 'learning' and growing and evolving has been one constant... JJ... the man I love and for whom all of these things have been undertaken.  Never in my life have such deep, constant emotions guided my every step.  So often in my past I have taken the easy way out -- when things were too hard, I simply walked away or made excuses as to why it wasn't 'do-able'.  Even though this has been one of the most difficult phases of my life - save the infidelity and subsequent back surgery and neurological dysfunction of the early 90's - I have not... not even ONCE... not even for a MOMENT... questioned that this is the right thing to do or that JJ is the one with whom I'm meant to spend the rest of my life.

The only thing that the relationship has contributed to the level of difficulty is the pain of separation and the overwhelming desire to be together.  Yet, even this leaves me with a knowing that the instant the waiting is over... the instant I am in his arms... my world will be as it was always meant to be and I will know joy and love like none I have ever imagined.

I wish that there were adequate words to describe what I feel for Julian.  Love... adoration... however deep and abiding just seem so small in comparison to the enormity of what we share.  In the past, I have wanted desperately to believe that people who came into my life were MEANT for me, yet I can tell you now that they were not -- they were not even close.  I know this because of the inexpressible sense of belonging that overwhelms me each time I hear JJ's voice... each time he touches me... each time I gaze into his eyes and see my own soul reflected there.

In just three weeks, I will embark on the next chapter of my life with the man I love.  Whatever life brings our way, we will have each other and that, I have learned, is what life is all about.

Nostalgia

The past several weeks, I have been sorting through all of the photos and memorabilia from my life and trying to organize it all into photo albums and scrapbooks.  Today, I got to the scrapbook part... as I sat knee deep in old report cards and growth charts the thought came to me, "who cares?"  Literally?  Who cares?  Other than me and, perhaps my boyfriend (for the first perusal), who will EVER care about the things that happened in my life?  I think about my mom's albums and scrapbooks and trip logs and I know that my brother and I - and perhaps my nieces - will page through them wistfully when she is gone. It's at times like these that the footprint of your life comes into focus.  Without anyone to carry on after you -- without children -- your life (at least the silly scrapbook moments) don't really mean a thing.  These photographs and snipets of my years on this planet will be one more thing to be disposed of... one more item on the list of "what do we do with THESE?"  Cheering letters, pageant crowns, roses pressed in wax paper... love notes, playbills and theatrical reviews... Maybe I should plan for a Viking Funeral... load all of this up with me on a pyre, set it all aflame and send me out to sea... That's easier to think about than the alternative:  my final contribution to America's landfills.

Company cars and carotid arteries...

On Friday I was informed that I must return my company car.  Yesterday I was informed that my mother has the carotid arteries of an 80 year old at age 68.  How does this complicate my life?  Let me count the ways.

First, I had a really nice, neat plan for moving to Hawaii at the end of December to be with the love of my life.  The return of the company car presents a major problem, since I sold my personal vehicle back in June.  What do I drive until I leave for Hawaii?  Beyond the driving part - what does this move say about my position with the company?  Rumor has it that the management program will be completely restructured AND the number of managers reduced by 33%, virtually eliminating any promotion opportunities I might have had. 

But back to the driving part... do you have any idea how expensive it is to rent a car for a month?  Even an economy car at discounted corporate rates would run me over $600 per month - times three months and there goes my budget!  I could buy a beater for about the same price -- just something to get me around town -- but then I'd have to sell it before I leave and who has time for THAT in the midst of liquidating an entire household?  Yet another alternative is to buy a new car and then ship it to Hawaii, but my research indicates that doesn't make good fiscal sense.  While the destination charges and excise taxes in Hawaii are significant, they don't offset the cost of shipping the vehicle and, in fact, I could buy a Toyota cheaper there than here on the mainland.

This is a complication that I just wasn't prepared for. Part of me wants to tell the company to stick it where the sun don't shine, resign and move to Hawaii tomorrow and I actually gave that some consideration.  There are three mitigating factors to that decision:

1. It's probably not too healthy for my career to up and walk away with my numbers being as bad as they are
2. When one adds in the new wrinkle of my mom's health, it has me thinking about Thanksgiving and Christmas and getting all fatalistic.
3. It still leaves Caleb smack-dab in the middle of the 120 day quarantine, which would mean having someone else care for him for 90 days -- including his 14 day health screening at the vet, getting his tranquilizers and putting him on a plane January 1st.  That's a lot to ask of anyone... including family.

So, here I sit this morning thinking about carodit arteries and company cars and wondering what the hell I can do about either one.

Hawaii

***I started this post a week ago and am just now getting back to my blog***

On Friday I found out that my office was actually going to be closed for Labor Day -- a holiday not typically celebrated by insurance agents due to the high volume of accidents and claims. That set my mind to racing with thoughts of seeing my baby... just jumping on a jet and showing up at his door. Not quite taking things THAT far, I asked what he thought and he seemed to be game for the adventure, so I started checking prices. Flying out Friday night was outrageously expensive, but a Saturday morning flight with a Monday night return was actually pretty feasible... so, after a little hesitation I clicked "BOOK IT" and, I think, shocked the shit out of him!

After 14 hours of travelling, I arrived at the airport in Honolulu... and there he stood at the bottom of the escalator -- a beautiful lei in hand and a big grin on his face. Being in his arms again was the best feeling ever. Since he has become a reader of my blog, I don't want to praise his skills too much -- it might go to his head. Suffice it to say that he rocks my world.

There was a fire on the island that had the roads knotted and traffic gnarled, so we spent hours making the drive to his place. Dealing with traffic is not his forte, I'm afraid, but that's okay. When we arrived, his dog, Kala was sitting at the front door waiting for us -- seems she had escaped from the back yard -- again. She is just adorable and we became fast friends, with her taking up residence on my lap nearly the instant that I sat down. I had hoped to meet his son, but as it turned out, his mom was on island and had come to get him for the weekend. While I was disappointed, I was also a little relieved that we would have some time alone.

Our weekend together was quiet and relaxed and we enjoyed each other's company. There was a sense of belonging that came over me that was sweet and calming. When I'm with him, I just know that everything is going to be all right.

Saying goodbye at the end of our 48 hours was tough and the flight home was a nightmare, but it was worth every penny and every hour - sleepless though they were. Since then, he has read this entire blog -- and DIDN'T run screaming into the night. He has also witnessed a complete and total meltdown about babies, bless his heart. Interesting thing: he still loves me. Wow.

So, today I will work in my office and do some sorting and cleaning. I see no need to put things away just to pack them again in December, so I'll down-size some more and start packing my "Hawaii" boxes instead. I can't wait to wake up in that tiny condo beside my baby and gaze out our window at this gorgeous view... to be together every day... and every night. I can't wait for Hawaii to be home.

Pragmatism, Doubt and Hope

Since sharing my new love with friends and family I've been struck by the assortment of reactions I've received. They've ranged from incredulity to elation. What surprises me most is that the people I thought would be happiest for me -- the ones who've watched me wallow in the pits of miry clay, who've seen the tears, witnessed the disappointment and finally the resignation -- have nothing but warnings and doubts.

The past ten... no, make that fifteen years of my life have been filled with betrayal, disappointment, deception and despair. Why then, when happiness finally comes my way, must the nay-sayers try to steal that from me? I want to think that they have my best interest at heart, but part of me wonders... especially about my mother... Somehow, I think that nothing I ever do will be good enough for her. Damn - I'm 44 years old and still she can get to me with the tone of voice, the "well, you know, you never... or you always..." Sorry, mom. You don't get to steal THIS joy.

On the flip side, I have a dear friend who is as giddy as a school girl for me. As for me... I have hope for the first time in a long time... hope that love really does exist... hope that someone will love me... just little old me... just as I am... hope that it CAN be forever... hope - no, BELIEF, that I have finally found what's been missing in my life... who's been missing from my life... My love, my heart...

Sunrise

We talked until the sun came up.
Hearing your voice made the miles disappear and almost... almost made it seem as if you were near enough to touch...
Your laughter, your tears moved me beyond words
Just five more days, my love... and we will watch the sunrise together.

Joy Unspeakable...

and full of glory...

This scripture from First Peter speaks of love and belief... love and belief born of faith... sight unseen. I have always loved this scripture and the way it describes pure joy... I believe there is some of this kind of joy to be had on earth, for God gives good gifts to his children.

The Secret Room...

There has been a secret room in my heart since the day that my innocent view of love was destroyed. In that room, I kept my insecurities, my vulnerabilities and hid the scars and bruises of abuse and rejection. For years, I have kept the Secret Room locked... I've peeked through the keyhole from time to time, to make sure everything was safe and sound in there, but left its contents undisturbed, save to toss in a new hurt from time to time. I have always maintained the "Keep Out" sign on the door to that room and, while I have loved, I have not done so completely and while I have been loved, I have not fully given myself to that love.

Two weeks ago, that all began to change. God, sensing that the Secret Room was ready to be emptied, sent a dear, sweet man back into my life. This man has loved me since we were children and gave himself to me some twenty-five years ago -- shortly after the Secret Room came into being. When I looked at him then, I saw pure adoration in his eyes -- a love I did not feel I deserved -- and I pushed him away. I thought that surely if he saw all of the things locked away in that room, his eyes would turn cold and I couldn't bear that thought.

I now find myself standing at the door to the Secret Room -- key in hand -- nervous, yet knowing at the very core of who I am that this room no longer serves a purpose. I find myself wishing... longing... to stand before this man - exposed - unashamed - because I know and trust that each bruise will disappear, each scar will be kissed away and each insecurity will be erased with the strength of his love for me. I pray only that I can love him with the same unconditional love he has shown me... always.

Bid time to hasten you to my arms...

... I love Elizabethan prose... especially when it's addressed to me!!!!!

CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!!

Vacation Countdown Clock Generator

What if...

What if I hadn't broken your heart all those years ago...
What if we had married -- me, broken and wounded -- you, fiercely loyal and in love...
Would we have survived? Would there have been a bigger heart-break down the road?
As I look back on my past and as you take me on the journey through yours, it seems as if the Universe has conspired to create this perfect moment in which we find ourselves today. We have grown, we have suffered losses and we have been through the valleys - each on our own, but still in the secret places of our hearts we have carried the torch of the sweet, loving moment in time that we shared some twenty-five years ago.

While experience has both of us questioning the sanity of it all, our hearts are crying out with longing for the other... and not for the memories of the past, but for the possibilities of the future. What if we were to choose this time in life to be confined by propriety and stifled by fear? Would we squander this perfect gift that has been laid before us?

What if, instead, we surrender ourselves to the joy of love and run headlong into each others arms... What if we just say 'yes' to happiness?

Five hour conversation...

wow. Must sleep now... perchance to dream...

Come Away With Me...

Norah Jones' song has taken on new meaning... August 21st... weekend rendezvous ... many, many more 3 am conversations to come between now and then.

Connected...

Five days... 20 e-mails... I'm thinking, "why do I have to wait until Sunday to talk to you?" The e-mail asking that question is no sooner hurled into cyberspace than my phone rings and it is him... wondering the same thing.

An hour and a half later, the call ends abruptly... seems our conversation outlasted his cellphone battery.

If

If all of your e-mails were letters, the pages would be worn and tattered...

The Do-Over

Rarely in life do we get do-overs... I think that I have just been given an amazing gift... a do-over with a wonderful man who has loved me since we were kids. I don't know what the outcome will be, but I do know that just having him back in my life today is blessing enough.

The Girl

Once upon a time, there was a girl who had been through a lot with a boy and she was scarred and fragile. She met another boy who adored her... and she adored him, but somewhere in the dark corners of her mind, she didn't think she deserved him. For years she felt unworthy of anyone's adoration, but eventually, she found healing and wholeness and joy. The boy is back... only he's a man now... The girl wonders if he would understand... she wonders...

Once upon a time there was a woman...

Moving On

I've been in Midlothian for one month today... divorce complaint has been filed... new job is underway... life is settling in.

It's odd that my parents are selling the home in which I grew up. I spent the morning and early afternoon sorting through a big box of my stuff from high school and college... it's funny because there are some people of whom I have absolutely no recollection. Then, there are the fond memories, like Richard Greener -- a summer vacation crush from 1979. Mom found pictures and I found several letters he wrote me... Oh, for the innocence of youth.

Feeling nostalgic tonight and more than a little lonely... This is a lot of change to process all at once. I know I need to be cautious with my feelings... I'm probably the most vulnerable I've been in years.

Moving on... to what? Only time will tell.

The Morning After

Retrospect is a great thing. It helps us realize that each of us has tipping points and the intensity of our reactions may not be directly proportional to the tipping event - rather to the enormity of the "big picture."

For several months now, I have been holding the seams of my world together with fine-spun thread... last night, the thread broke. What's important for me to remember is that I did not break. This morning I woke up and began my day as I will begin many more to come. The earth did not tip off its axis, the sun did not stop shining... it just appears a little less bright to my weary eyes. I'm sure that a day will come in the not-too-distant future when I will look around me and see a beautiful day and the sun's rays will have returned to their former glory. That is what hope is all about.

Thanks to my friends for supporting me in the valley. I promise to invite you all to the mountaintop!

Pornography

Did that get any one's attention? In my previous life -- before most of you who know me knew me -- my ex-husband had an addiction to pornography -- and voyeurism -- and snuff films -- and couldn't decide which team he wanted to bat for. Today, after "A" took time out of his schedule to help me record a few classical pieces for the potential buyer for my piano, he was forced to go to the "movies" section of his I-Mac... what I saw there sent me into PTSD all over again... I have not been able to stop crying. I don't know why it bothers me -- after all, I AM divorcing him... but once again, I feel as if porn has replaced me... and it doesn't feel good. I can't even begin to articulate the reason for my tears... they just won't stop.

Mine, mine, mine, all mine!

After much deliberation, "A" has decided that Caleb loves me more than he loves him and that he should stay with me!

Happy, happy, joy, joy!

Adieu to the Piano

Adieu to the Piano: Attributed to Beethoven posthumously, this piece expresses a love for the piano forte and in its minor key development, the sadness at saying adieu.

Today, I'm taking pictures of my 1927 Steinway A-III Heirloom grand to send to a dealer who has expressed an interest in purchasing it from me. It hurts my heart to have to sell this gorgeous instrument with the warm, rich tones -- but given the fact that I'll likely be moving twice in the next 18 months and need to maintain two households for the foreseeable future, I see no alternatives. It's a time of change for me right now and, quite frankly, I'm not dealing with it very well at all. In addition to selling the piano, I'm facing separation from my baby boy - Caleb; the sale of my grandmother's house where I've lived since her passing; taking a step backward in my career; and divorcing my husband of nine years.

It struck me the other day that I have spent nearly a quarter of my life with this man -- some of the most difficult years of my life. I would like to say that I'm handling it all with grace and aplomb, but I'm not. I know that, ultimately, I will come through it all - as I always have - and will be a better, stronger person for having done so. It's just a tough patch at the moment and my place of solace - at the keys - will be absent for the duration.

Ma'am, step AWAY from the Blackberry

It occurs to me that booze and Blackberries simply do not mix. For the third time in as many weeks, I have fired off a totally inappropriate text message after the third or fourth adult beverage and it's become embarrassing! If I could figure out how to install a breathalyzer on the damned thing, I would -- they can do it with car ignitions, surely someone out there can figure out how to lock you out of the text messaging function if you're toasted.

So, this morning, once again, I'm sending the obligatory "I'm sorry... I'm an idiot" e-mail. Now, I need a nap. I'm old and simply cannot handle the late nights any more. (sigh) Sad, but true.

When the Emotional Becomes Physical

Recently I've found that the mere thought of coming home causes me physical pain. It happened again today. I had been fine for most of my two days at the beach - save the emotional stress of trying to figure out what to do about my job (or the lack thereof) and trying to figure out why a friend took a particular, unexpected action in our relationship. Then, this morning after checking out of the hotel, I went for one last walk on the beach before heading home. As I turned around to head for the car, my stomach started hurting and by the time I reached the car, I was nearly bent over from the pain.

Just one more sign that I need to get this taken care of now... but it appears as if "A" is going to take every last day of the 90 days notice I gave him before he moves out... even offered to stay given the change in my work status.

In the midst of all of my personal drama, I got word that one of the two teens murdered near my home last week was the only son of my first high school boyfriend. That kind of put things in perspective.

The Job That Wasn't

For six weeks now - since the fateful day I got my lay-off notice -- everyone has been telling me that I'd be fine and that there would always be a place for me on the team in my region. I assumed that on May 5th, I would start a new job and that I would, indeed, be fine. On Thursday, I found out that while I may be "fine" in the long run, there is a hiccup in the plan: they have no spot for me at the moment and I could be unemployed for as much as 90 days while they "create" a spot. Given that I've offered bribe, I mean INCENTIVE, money to "A" to get him to move out, this puts me in a bit of a pickle. Were it not for the remuneration I received for The Trip That Wasn't, I would be up that well known creek with no visible means of propulsion.

I don't know what the Universe has in mind, but it should be an interesting ride!

As for my allusion to an interesting change coming in my life - there was a complete reversal there too... so nothing fun to look forward to.

(sigh)

The good part of my week is that I am at the Beach this weekend on the 12th floor of an oceanfront hotel soaking up one of the most gorgeous days in recent memory. This, thanks to the 75 days I spent in a hotel last year that earned me Platinum Elite status! :-)

Sweet!

Property Settlement Agreement - Check...

Divorced before my birthday -- check!

I'm so tickled with my attorney I could just dance a jig! Since "A" and I have been living separate and apart since last July with no marital relations (TMI, I know and I'm sorry), as soon as our PSA is filed with the court, I can file my complaint and will more than likely be divorced before my birthday in early June!!!!!

Now, if I can just get him to stop threatening suicide and wanting to take my dog away!!!!!

More later.

The Deed is Done

I spoke with A this weekend and told him that I think it's time we end the charade of pretending to be married. Of course, this necessitates him moving, so he wasn't happy about it. There was the usual accusation of cheating -- which I was expecting -- and even an offer to go to counseling -- which I didn't believe, because he has such a low opinion of anyone in that field. I've tried to remove as many obstacles as possible, so I'm paying for his movers and lifting his rent requirement until he moves out -- which, hopefully, will be on or about July 15th.

I have an appointment with an attorney on Wednesday and I'm on my way to the bank right now to unlink our accounts and remove the JTWROS provision from my accounts.

Now, I just have to figure out how to stay out of his way and convince him, without causing an argument, that Caleb should stay with me!

That's all I have for now.

Stay tuned!

Twist of Fate

My life has taken an interesting and unexpected turn. Stay tuned as a new possibility opens up and I set off into uncharted waters.

On the job front, I had one of THE most awful interviews of my life this past week. The hiring manager was the hind-end of an equine and tossed out such winning phrases as, "well, you DO realize that being a wholesaler is more than just being the bubbly girl at the front of the room whom everyone likes and when she's done they all say, 'wasn't she GREAT!'?" Oh, and then there was the priceless usage of the word "buffoon" in reference to our financial professionals and "nothing more than glorified trainers" in reference to the job I'm leaving. Yes, he was a real winner! I wouldn't take that job now if he begged me on hands and knees. What a schmuck!

On the home front, this weekend will be atom bomb weekend at my house. I have enough things settled that I feel confident in striking out on my own. I have a plan -- let's just hope it doesn't blow up in my face.

That's all for now... but, like I said, STAY TUNED!!!!!

Job Interview Hell

Last Friday I was scheduled to interview for a Regional job in Atlanta (just the interview, not the job). I got to the airport, after checking in from home the night before and arrived at the gate, handed over my "seat assignment" ticket and was told, "I'm sorry, we're over-booked and the next possible flight gets you in at 4:15 pm. My interview was at 1.

So, no trip to Atlanta for me. Now, I'm in New York, ready for the second try. Fingers crossed for a meaningful outcome -- that could either mean getting the job or getting a clear indication that it's the WRONG job for me.

More later.

F is for F-A-I-L

For the first time in my life (or at least in my memory), I failed a test. I knew just 95% of the information I needed in order to pass...

My morning started beautifully: I exercised (down 5 pounds this past week, thank you very much), ate a healthy breakfast, showered and packed up the car. I hit the road one hour prior to my exam for a typical 20 - 30 minute drive and then... there they were.. the flashing red lights, the miles of tail lights... a traffic jam. I was late for my exam by nearly 10 minutes. It went down hill from there.

Needless to say, I will be re-taking the exam in 30 days (there's a 30 day lock-out). Hopefully, the second time will be a charm. I've sent a scathing e-mail to the study material company for all of the technical difficulties and have made arrangements to "borrow" the old-fashioned practice exam disc from a colleague.

To top it off, the big boss announced that the three company trips for which I qualified have been cancelled by the company due to the fall-out from the AIG debacle. Even though we've accepted no TARP funds and are in an incredibly strong financial position, the top performers in our company are being punished and having our rewards snatched out from under us.

I'm just in a pissy mood tonight -- nothing that a good shot of Irish Whiskey and several good Ales could not cure.

Tomorrow is D-Day

At 9 am I will sit down for a six hour examination to become a General Securities Representative, which - along with 79 cents will get me a cup of Joe at the 7-11. The Universe has conspired against me this weekend. My home computer crashed and, along with it, the study interface for the practice exams. I've been relying on the old-fashioned method of studying: reading. I decided to take my ONE online practice this morning and the results were less-than-stellar -- not even a passing grade. That's frightening, given that the exam is just 17 hours away.

I printed out the results and trouble-shot the areas where I missed the most questions. Then, I decided to take another break to see if I could get the #&&"*#(% computer to cooperate with me. I have it running again, but I am unable to access any of the program files associated with my corrupt version of XP. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

So, it's back to the BOOK with me... all 781 pages of it.

Wish me luck!

59 More Days...

Today, I got my 60 Day Notification Letter. I have until May 4th to find another position within the company, or I will be terminated. The severance package: 2 weeks pay.

There you have it!

Now, I just have to decide which of the whopping THREE jobs I want. Country-wide, there are 21 jobs available and 84 people applying for them. While my leaders are all behind me, they all keep saying "there are NO guarantees." Without a Series 7, two of the jobs are out of reach - so I will be sitting for the exam on Monday, March 16th.

Wish me luck. I'm going to need it!

It's Yesterday Once More

shoo-bee-dooo-lang-lay....

Yesterday came and went without any announcement. What we did hear through the grapevine was that our wholesaling department has been decimated. We also heard that every other person in my position on the entire East Coast is being told to do the same thing I've been told to do -- all with eyes toward the ONE position that is open in my region. Nice.

Since my last post, I've stopped functioning normally. Everything I hear seems to be tied in some freakish way to the fact that my job is being eliminated. "Did you hear that Tony was late to work this morning?" My brain thinks: "He must have been at a super-secret meeting talking about the lay-offs. I KNEW it!!!"

Even GOOD news freaks me out. I had my annual review and it went really, really well. I got a nice bonus, albeit less than I had projected and was told that I'm also getting a raise, but he didn't know how much... My brain thinks: "He's not telling me how much because there really isn't going to BE a raise -- he's just stringing me along." I have RIFitis. There, I've said it. So sue me!

I've decided that the cure for this disease is a nice slumber party at the home of my friend, colleague and partner in crime in Richmond. We have a plan to annihilate our brains with copious amounts of alcohol so that we can't REMEMBER that there are lay-offs coming.

Hey, it's a plan. I doubt if you could come up with a better one, so lay-off! See, there I go again!

I'm a Control Freak

I admit it. I cannot stand not being in control of my own future. I'm sitting here waiting for my company to decide whether or not I have a job and wondering when the hell some one's going to tell me when it's all going down! Rumors are flying around -- everything from "it's over" to "you'll have through the end of the year." I'm leaning more toward the former, not the latter. Too many things are lining up for me to think that the picture is rosy. I went out to our intranet to download my job requirements and measurement standards for the coming year, as I have my review and planning meeting this Tuesday -- it's gone. Poof. Disappeared since last weekend. The job I've been studying for -- nose to the grindstone -- for weeks is GONE. Poof. Disappeared since last weekend.

THE HANDWRITING IS ON THE WALL AND IT'S BECOMING CLEARER BY THE DAY.

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate either on the studying or on the performance of my duties with the axe waving somewhere overhead. I've called everyone I know to call. My boss keeps telling me that no one will want to let me go because... blah, blah, blah... but if NO ONE has the budget money to keep me, it doesn't matter how freaking amazing I am, I'm GONE. G - O - N - E. I finally broke down and started posting for internal positions -- but the rumor mill says that the BIG announcement is coming on Wednesday -- so there will be 66 of us, all vying for 4 positions country-wide. All I can say is that I hope like hell I finished in the top three in the country! I was number 6 at the end of November, before we made and exceeded our plan.

Someone put me out of my misery, PLEASE! I need details... I need to know what's coming... I simply cannot abide the unknown! I guess that makes me a control freak. So be it. I've been called worse!

Finally, an update...

Long overdue, I know... but things have been topsy-turvy these past weeks. Here is a picture of me and my dad at the Sugar Bowl:

Yes, that's me... at the heaviest weight I've ever been in my life... Still, the trip was priceless and I wouldn't trade my time with my daddy for anything in the world.

I took mom to D.C., as planned... that trip was less memorable. The musical was in its closing weekend and the SECOND understudy was playing the lead role. She sounded like Minnie Mouse on helium and I couldn't wait for her to shut up! The woman playing the role of the hair dresser on the other hand, was FABULOUS! My favorite part of the trip was the one hour massage at the Williamsburg Spa... THAT was heavenly.

Okay... so I know this is not why you all tuned in today... you want to know where things are with the marriage. Well, right after I got back from New Orleans, I had a meeting with my boss where he "strongly encouraged" me to get my next set of securities licenses: my Series 7 (General Securities Representative) and Series 24 (General Securities Principal). I already hold life, health, annuity, Limited Securities Representative, Limited Securities Principal, Uniform Securities Agent, and Municipal Fund Securities licenses... but in order to be promoted, I must hold a Series 24. Why now? I asked... I was told in the most cryptic of manners that "Changes are coming and I want you to be properly positioned."

The next thing I know, rumors are flying around that my position is being eliminated... not my JOB... my POSITION, which means that 65 other people in the country will also be jockeying for new offices. This sent me into a bit of a panic. So, I'm currently knee-deep in an 800 page Series 7 Study Guide, while still travelling 4 out of 5 nights a week. Rumor has it that this will be a "phase out" over the remainder of the year. As the top financial sales leader in my region in the number one territory in the country, I expect that I will have my pick of where I go... but go I must. There are just no jobs to be had where I currently reside.

So, I decided to stay the course for the short-term -- at least until I get my bonus pay-out in March... and perhaps until I get a company move package. Cop out? Maybe... but I'd rather bank the money he's currently paying in rent just in case I'm not able to find a landing place when the axe falls.

That's my world at the moment. I'll try to do a better job of updating you guys!

NOLA here I come!

I'm pleased as punch to announce that I have won the company Sugar Bowl trip to New Orleans! Being the top at my job in our region, I qualified for the trip, which ensues on New Year's Eve... yes, I will be in New Orleans, LA on New Year's Eve!!!! I'm so tickled I could just doodle-dance! I'm taking my dad with me and we are staying in a hautned hotel! It's all too fabulous and I can't wait to come back and blog all about it.

As soon as I'm home from that trip, I'm taking my mom to D.C. to the Kennedy Center to see one of the final productions by the Broadway cast of Legally Blonde. THEN, once I'm settled back into my lovely home, I'm dropping the bomb on "A". His job is out of jeopardy and he has proven over and over and over again during these past months that there is nothing that can salvage this pitiful excuse for a marriage. I have thought and thought about what to do with our baby and I have decided to dog-nap him and hide him away. Even though "A" is home more than I am, that little dog loves ME and clings to ME and would be lost without me. I will figure out a way to take him with me, send him to doggy-daycare, and fill in with my dad walking him every once in a while. I'll just have to get up really early some days and stay up really late some nights... whatever the cost, I cannot imagine being without him.

So... by January 15th, things will be up in the air again here at my house. Wish me luck! It ain't gonna be pretty.

It's Christmas Once More

Watching holiday classics...
Crying over silly mother-daughter films...
Being disappointed yet again by a man who does not understand me...
Mourning my baby, who would have been four this year...

It's Christmas once more and, although I am winning every promotion and qualifying for every trip it just feels empty... and even though it feels empty, I yearn for solitude -- without him -- just me and my baby boy... you know, the one with four paws and brown spots. Yet, being without one may cause me to be without the other and the mere thought of that reduces me to tears.

So, I work...
I hide from my feelings...
I try to pretend that the accolades and applause are enough...
Will any of it EVER be enough?

Peace... Sweet Peace...

I sit in the quiet of my hotel room on a crisp, cold November morning looking out over Candler's Mountain
Even though this town holds horrible memories for me -- memories of abuse, oppression and poverty -- today, it is a place of peace.
It is peaceful because there is nothing expected of me.
It is peaceful because I choose to sit quietly with my thoughts, instead of drowning them out with the constant drone of television, radio or computer.
It is peaceful because there is no one here to intrude on my solitude.
I am alone and it is a wonderful feeling.
Peace and quiet.
Ahhh.......

Connie Francis

I've been thinking that it's time to quit the band. I even composed a resignation letter - but never sent it. It's a good thing too! This week, I got a call from our drummer who plays for a tribute band. He asked me to do a Connie Francis tribute, singing "Lipstick on Your Collar", "Who's Sorry Now", and "Where the Boys Are". In researching her performance characteristics, I came across this video on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4fKJ318XHg

It kind of freaked me out... but it has me thinking that my ship may finally have come in. Is this the Universe's way of telling me that it hears me and it's answering my heart's desire?

Or am I a delusional fool?

Will it ever end?

The company has given employees the option of voluntarily separating from the company and they have until mid-November to do it. I am at the point of telling him to take the offer and get the hell out.

It's starting to tell on me -- my body is revolting -- my back's gone out, I'm having migraines and I'm gaining weight faster than the law should allow. If I don't get this over with soon, I'll look like a sumo wrestler. I now officially weigh more than I ever have in my entire life AND that means I also weigh more than my mother... yeah... try that one on for size and see how it makes you feel...

I'm just about to load up the car (again) and head out of town... then I get to sit in a class all day tomorrow -- whoop-dee-freakin-hoo. Too bad I can't come up with any reasons to stay gone all week.

Can you tell I'm just about the happiest camper EVER right now!

Just shoot me and get it over with, will ya?

When Silence Isn't Golden

Usually in this house, I'm the one giving the silent treatment. Today, that is not the case. "A" is giving ME the silent treatment. The odd thing is, regardless of how much I want him gone or how much I want this to be over, I don't like the way this feels. It probably has to do with the fact that I'm an approval junkie.

A lot of things don't feel so great these days... like the way I feel when he tells me he loves me -- emphatically, followed by the "you DO know that, don't you?" question -- for which he actually expects an answer. I almost feel like I'm being bullied into accepting that I'm a schmuck for not wanting to be married to him.

Let me back up though... because when last I typed, I'm sure everyone thought this would all be over soon. The Monday after I posted, "A's" company announced impending lay-offs. They said they'd be announcing the list of unlucky souls on September 29th. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him to move out in the midst of this uncertainty -- I'm not THAT mean. So, we waited. Last week, another e-mail came from human resources telling them that the decision had been delayed by a week (to this coming Friday, October 3rd)... and so into limbo we went.

The reason for the silent treatment, you might ask? It's complicated, but I'll do my best to take you down the emotional super-highway I've traveled these past few days:

On Friday I found out that I have a disease that could cause my hands to become deformed and have a significant effect on my digital dexterity. Since I've played piano for 35 years, this was upsetting news. The surgeon I saw told me that it was treatable and not to worry... but you all know me well enough to know that I came home and started researching on my own and what I found wasn't quite as simple as he made it sound. Depending on the severity or the grade of this disease that I have, I could end up having multiple surgeries over my life time and, if it's severe, could lose the full use of some of my fingers. Other possible outcomes include nerve damage and, at worst, amputation. Disfigured, gnarled hands filled with zig-zagged scars... yeah - there's a rosy outlook for someone whose greatest solace is sitting down to play a Beethoven Sonata.

So, in the midst of all of this, I get accused of being snippy to him and reminded of how sensitive he is (see above reference to being bullied). First of all, the man SHOULD have learned by now that when I get bad news you need to leave me the hell alone for a few days until I come to terms with it. AND he should have learned that when I go in to my music room and put on the headphones it's like putting a "KEEP OUT" sign in the doorway. When I start playing Beethoven, then everyone should clear the house because that means that I'm in a deep, dark funk. Really -- after nine years he hasn't figured this shit out?

All right... so I apologized for being snippy, teared up and had to work really hard not to end up on the floor in a puddle. (Did I mention that I had PMS too?) We move on to dinner time. He decides to make his "famous" hamburgers -- filled with Turkish spices. I'm in charge of the fries (or the bakes, in our case). We sit down to dinner and I have like two bites of my burger (which was gross, by the way -- why ruin good ground beef with all of that crap?) when he sees a commercial about a dad building a jungle gym for his son... he says, "I wish I had a child to do things like that for." In my state of emotional fragility, I earnestly ask him not to go there right now... Did he listen? NO. The SOB has the audacity to ask me if I would consider a surrogate so that he can have his own biological child. I'm not certain how many neighbors heard my response. It wasn't a nice one... I told him to go find some Turkish whore and make his f'ing baby and then stormed off to my office. Am I proud of that? No. Did I warn him in advance? Yes.

I came within an nth of telling him to pack up his shit and get out last night, but I knew I would end up sounding like a screeching fish wife and that I might end up being committed to an asylum instead.

All I can say is that I pray for a calm week at work. I pity the fool who gets in my face THIS week.

Technical Malfunction

I had this plan... I was going to download a separation agreement, fill it out and hand it to "A" -- only thing is, the program kept crashing every time I clicked on the document I PAID FOR!!! How annoying!

I have prepared a 60 day notice to vacate and (hopefully when the IT guys call me back), will have a stipulation agreement we can both sign so we can finally move on with our lives.

I just want it over with.

Dreams of Flying

Last night I had the most magnificent dream. I dreampt that I went to see a faith healer or wise woman. She laid hands on me, rebuked me for my negative thoughts and the next thing I knew, I was flying around the room - experiencing sheer joy and blissful abandon. It was a wonderful dream.

I wonder if I wish for another tonight if the Universe would oblige?

It's too much...

I am in a personal crisis. I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the events that face me: selling the house (which includes a plethora of details - things that need to be fixed or cleaned or de-cluttered), buying a new one... oh yeah, and a divorce. Today, I can't stop the tears and I'm paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the mountain in front of me.

The sad part is that I've spent so much time at work and with online communities that there's no one IRL that I can call.

What am I supposed to do now?

Boxers, to your corners...

Less than two hours after arriving home from a l - o - n - g week, we have gone to our separate corners: him to his office, me to mine. We made it through dinner, about 15 minutes of a violent, bloody movie (to which I put a stop) and about five minutes of the McNeil Lehrer hour before the fit hit the shan. He went on a tirade over some story about the middle class and I said, "I don't know why I even bother to come home" and walked away. He tried to coax me back, but the thought pouring through my mind tumbled from my lips: "No, I don't enjoy your company."

I guess that's that, huh?

Courage

This morning I'm reminded of the Serenity Prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

I'm stuck on the middle one this weekend. I know I need to have the talk, but instead, I'm burying myself in housework -- a legitimate endeavor -- but an act of avoidance in this instance. I'm not even sure what to say.

"It's been nice knowing you these past nine years, but I'm over it and I'm ready to move on."
"You know, I'm really a pretty sucky wife when you think about it -- you'd be better off without me!"
Or, I could sing "Big Girls Don't Cry" to him and see if he gets it.
But I guess the best thing would be straight-forward honesty: I'm really unhappy and I want a divorce.

I have so many fears surrounding the fall-out from this. You see, I'll be getting in my car tomorrow and heading out of town for the entire week -- again. I have no clue what I'd come home to or if my baby boy (or my house, car and money) would be here when I got back. Perhaps I should wait until I have more ducks in a row and for a time when I'll be here to manage the fall-out and protect my furry son from being whisked away and my assets from being ransacked and pillaged.

See, I've talked myself right out of having the talk. Instead, I'll continue to get the house ready to sell, continue to move and protect assets, and continue to plan my move.

Yeah, that's the ticket... stay tuned.

P.S. The House

Turns out my next door neighbor's good friend wants to buy the house and he's into renovating! Now I just have to get it clean enough to show. That'll take a small army!

Step 1.a.

A review of the finances, the cost of moving a 6'4" grand piano and the cost of a place that will do it justice have me revising the list a bit... I've now added to it, "Sell 1927 Steinway Heirloom Grand Piano" and I'm not happy about it.

Upside to selling the piano: paying off the note! LOL I wonder if that will allow me to afford the condo I REALLY want (which is about $150k more than my current budget). NOT!

I had a really nostaligic moment coming home on Friday: I was crossing the Chesapeake Bay and I teared up... this is always going to be home for me... even when it isn't any more.

Step One:

Make lists, make lots of lists, obsess about said lists, feel overwhelmed by lists, tear up lists and start over.

Step One: make ONE list of all of the lists you need to make... no... wait...
Step One: Determine the order of action required to sell the house... and put it on a list...

I am in list hell, but I'm making progress. So far, here's my list:

1. Decide whether to sell house as-is, or whether to make improvements.
2. If I decide to make improvements, do the following: Update kitchen, den and bathrooms, work on curb appeal (hell, that could take a YEAR!)
3. Rent a POD and clear out all of the extra "stuff" in the house, including "A" -- okay, so maybe I won't put HIM in the POD... but then again... (smile)
4. Put house on market
5. Put down money on FANTABULOUS condo overlooking the river and pray that the house sells before closing on the condo.
6. Wait
7. Oh yeah... and file for divorce. There's always that.

Shit!

or get off the pot. That's what my grandpa used to say... and now I must heed that advice. I've now been told by my best friend and my parents that they're tired of hearing about my marital situation and that it's time to do something about it. They're calling my bluff and I always rise to a challenge.

I'm putting the wheels in motion to get out of here... to sell the house and move to another area -- closer to my Territory office. I've already located several condos -- one of which is about 3 miles from said best friend's house! It could be worse, right?

So, there's a new adventure in the works... one that includes kitchen remodels and bathroom overhauls and putting a house on the market at one of the worst possible times... but it's forward progress and that's what matters, right?

Now, I'm off to the Department of Motor Vehicles, where I will likely be held hostage the remainder of the day. If you don't hear from me within 36 hours, send in the Cavalry!

Go, Leave...

I recently heard a song with the above title. While the lyrics don't exactly reflect my situation, the sentiment does. For a long while now, I've wanted "A" to leave... now I think it might be time for me to go.

This is the worst possible time to sell a house and split assets - but I feel as if I'm shriveling up inside. I'm tired of feeling better about myself everywhere but at home and now, the accusations are starting to fly. He thinks I'm cheating... HA... I don't have the time or the energy for that. Besides, if he knew me well, he would know it's not in my makeup... obviously, he doesn't know me well... in fact I would venture to say he doesn't know me at all.

Still, it hurts -- it stings -- when he lashes out this way (even when he "swears" he was kidding). Of course, in his mind, the entire failure of the marriage is that we don't have sex often enough... but he doesn't seem to understand that pointing that out just makes it less likely to happen. I almost feel like it's the only expectation he has in our marriage and everything he does or says is just a means to that end. I can't even begin to express how that affects me... me, the girl who was raped at 15... to feel that my entire worth to him is sexual. He doesn't get it...

I am so very tired tonight. My job is wearing me out and coming home has become a dreaded end to an exhausting week. Maybe I am cheating on him -- I'm cheating with my job -- stretching my stays just for the peace and quiet of a hotel room. God knows I don't even want to LOOK at another man.

Solitude... that is what I seek tonight.

The Dogsitter

How does one go about divorcing one's dogsitter? When one works 70 - 80 hour weeks and is actually home 5 days a month, one's dogsitter is a very important person. Without the dogsitter, the dog would be sad and lonely... getting walked twice a day and spending a few hours at the grandparents' house. That's no life for my son... the love of my life.

So, I stay married to the dogsitter -- for the kid's sake.

At long last...

I've dug my way out of middle-management hell to post on my blog. I'm less than 24 hours away from my 43rd birthday (woo-freakin'-hoo).

I'm preparing for the band's first gig... unfortunately, it's not OUR music - we're playing back-up for an Elvis impersonator... but, hey, a gig is a gig, right?

I just bought three vintage dresses for the occasion

Unfortunately, I had to order them in size XL as all of the travel and endless meetings have increased my girth nearly exponentially over the past three months.

Things with "A" are about the same... we live completely separate lives under the same roof. We recently attended his 25th high school reunion, which was fun and interesting, as he went to one of the more prestigious boarding schools on the East Coast. His former class mates and their spouses were interesting folks and I enjoyed their company. The trip itself, on the other hand, was the usual exercise in anger management - or the lack thereof.

We are scheduled to go to Turkey to visit his folks at the end of this month... yes, all of my vacation time this year will be spent doing what HE wants to do... yes, I know that I'm the one who said 'yes' to the proposal and I really would like to see his dad again -- I really do like him and enjoy his company.... besides, how often does one get a chance to spend time on the southern coast of Turkey overlooking the Mediterranean? (boy, if that's not a run-on sentence, I don't know what is... sorry)

The new job is fraught with INSANE political undercurrents and I often find myself wishing I'd just stayed put. Still, the regular pay check, benefits and company car are making things more comfortable financially. I'm rarely home -- travelling at least 3 out of 5 days each week or, like this past week, leaving on Monday and returning home late Friday afternoon. All of the travel is by car and I've found myself more than once standing in front of a hotel room door trying to gain access, only to realize that it's the room number from LAST night's stay. I've reached the point already where I know the staff of the hotels by name -- especially the bartenders! LOL

Just this week, I learned that I will not be eligible for any company trips next year because my colleague who is responsible for recruiting hasn't recruited enough people in the first half of the year. When I went to my boss with that issue, he suggested that I start recruiting myself. How's that for a solution? Do his job for him and make him look good when his bonus potential is more than TWICE what mine is AND I wouldn't get any additional bonus for doing his job for him... yeah... I'll get right on that!

Well, it's time for another muscle relaxer... see, my back isn't liking all of the car travel either and I haven't been able to straighten up for three days now.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Valentine's Day

The day before Valentine's Day, I got a wonderful thank-you gift from our National Sales Director for making the whirlwind trip to Connecticut a few weeks back. It was two lobster tails and two filet mignon! While always leary of his grilling skills, I was craving a wonderful dinner and "A" stepped up to the plate to make our feast for the night.

Part of me was dreading this holiday - how does one go about buying a card for someone about whom one feels ambivalent? Half-hartedly, I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work and (along with a jillion MEN) picked up a card and some chocolates.

I arrived to find the usual dozen roses and stuffed puppy on the bar - along with a card with an unbelievable inscription that went on and on about how much I'm loved and adored. In return, his card said, "you're a great cuddler" with a picture of two adorable puppies on the front. I bound up the chocolate bars (his favorites) with some leftover Valentine's decorations from the bow box under the bed and I was done.

Back to the meal: it's always a big production when "A" cooks. He gets all intense and type-A and yells at the dog, the food, the stove and the grill alot. Such a great way to put dinner guests in the mood to enjoy a festive dinner! Valentine's night was no different. Suffice it to say that my fears of his grilling skills were confirmed as my steak ended up still cold in the middle and the potatoes were still raw. I, of course, made the best of it and made light of the whole thing... but he stormed off upstairs for the remainder of the evening and didn't come down until I was long-since asleep. THAT was my Valentine's Day.

For those who asked, the malcontent did talk to his supervisor about his salary and was promptly referred to the head of the department - who is out of the country until the end of the month. There's nothing worse than getting all worked up over something and then being put on hold for weeks at a time. It kind of puts a damper on things, you know? We'll just have to wait and see what he does come March 1st (when I start my new job and he's fully vested in his retirement plan). Yeah - that'll be interesting indeed.

And Virginia goes to...

a dichotomous duo: Obama and McCain -- creating an interesting night, to say the least. The voting process was once again a source of discord in my household with the malcontent non-citizen preaching to the politically active citizen about how she should have voted. As you can imagine, that went over like a fart in church.

I was also informed this morning that today is the day that the aforementioned malcontent is going to give his boss an ultimatum about his salary and that if he doesn't get the answer he wants, he's "out of there." Didn't I predict that he'd quit his job in March? Anyone living in the "Potomac Primary" area be prepared to see an explosion of nuclear proportions if he actually goes through with it.

My start date for my new job is March 1st. The reactions have been mixed and very few people have seemed genuinely happy for me. But that's okay... it's not about THEM... it's MY promotion and no one can take that away from me -- not even a gaggle of kill-joys!!!

The Drama

I knew that telling my agent partners was going to be difficult. What I didn't know was that telling the area managers was going to create so much drama! You would have thought that I was taking food from his mouth or burning his boat or kicking his dog or something! I was absolutely astounded when this guy made MY promotion all about HIM! I thought only "A" did that.

The first words out of HIS mouth, "well, I don't know how I'm EVER going to hit my numbers now." This comment was followed shortly thereafter by a phone call to his boss, who then called MY new boss, who then called me. What a great way to start my new venture. Oy ve!

So, that's how my day began and it just ENDED with a temper tantrum: 'A' yelled at me that Las Vegas was on. I guess he didn't hear my answer, so he yelled again and I yelled back. He then stormed upstairs. Ah... how pleasant that I get to watch it by myself in peace and quiet! Note to self: perhaps I should have had a kitchen and bath added upstairs. Then I'd NEVER have to see him!

The Boat

Today, I got the job offer. It's more money than I ever imagined I would make in a year. The bonus, the car, the expense account... it all just leaves me speechless. The fact that the National Director of Sales is the one who recommended me for the job makes it all the more special.

The part that makes me want to cry is that before the first sip of champagne had been swallowed, "A" made his request... "Now that you're going to be making so much money, do you think you could buy me a boat?"

Not so much as the first check in the bank and it's already about him.

Need I say more?

The Rings

This post over at Tall Glass of Vino got me to thinking about my own rings. As most of you know, my marriage is pretty much a sham and there are days when putting on "the rings" just seems to be too much for me to bear. They feel like shackles - reminders of this hellish prison in which I live day to day. I feel a physical aversion to putting them on my ring finger - even though the diamond in my engagement ring belonged to my grandmother and my diamond wedding band to my mother. It's the fact that they represent a marriage that is so far gone and a relationship that drains the very lifeblood from my body that causes me to recoil at the mere thought of donning them.

Who ever thought that such gorgeous gems could cause such a reaction?

Update

Well, I was going to post a recording of our latest rehearsal, but the more I investigated that idea, the more I realized that it would probably be an infringement on some songwriters' legal rights and decided against it. I'm bummed out about it, as I was really looking forward to getting some feedback on our progress. I'm excited about our work and I think we're going to have a lot of fun with this! Our next step is to record a demo and start marketing the band to local venues.

Things are looking up on the job front. I have an "unofficial" offer for the management position - pending the person who's currently in the job getting her hubby's buy-in for a switch to another job with the company. I'm expecting a financial package tomorrow.

"A" and I continue to live separate lives under the same roof. He's now found a job opening in Arizona for which he wants to apply. I'm sure he knows that I'm not going to walk away from a new promotion to move out there with him... at least I HOPE he knows that!

I'll try to come up with something witty or mildly interesting to post about here soon. Until then...

Rain, rain, go away

I know we're in a drought and all of that... but seriously, enough already! Rainy days just make me grumpy and give me a headache.

I'm looking forward to "wing night" with one of my agents tonight. We're going to eat chicken wings and drink beer and hang out for a few hours. Maybe that will brighten my day a bit!

In other news, A and I are now truly living separate lives. The only time we actually spend in the same room is at dinner. Once Jeopardy is over, he heads upstairs where he stays until bed time. Oh, did I mention that he's sleeping in the guest room?

I'm really missing band practice. Our drummer is out of town til the end of the month. As much as I want to sing with THEM, I'm finding that I have zero interest in getting back to choir or even the symphony chorus. It all seems so dull and boring now and I'd rather work on other things.

For now, I need to work on earning a living... so I'll sign off for now.

When she's good, she's very, very good...

I have finally determined in the fourth decade of my life that I am a fabulous planner and lousy at following those plans through to completion. I have the innate ability to craft an intricate, well thought-out, logical, creative and executable plan, complete with spreadsheets and ROI analysis. I'm even able to implement it... and even keep it going for a month or so... but then I get bored and I want to do something else... or I become overwhelmed at the prospect of it actually becoming bigger than I can handle and I back away.

I'm starting to think that, perhaps, I'm in the wrong business. Or maybe I just need to exercise my success muscles a bit more. I've been putting in place these amazing plans with my partners all week. Now, all I have to do is implement them and make sure they stay on track for an entire year. That's sounds way too much like work to me!!! LOL

I'd much rather just be a singer in a rock and roll band... EEGADS, am I going to have to change the name of my blog????

The Best Book

"It was a cold November, around three o'clock in the morning. My husband was sleeping in our bed. I was hiding in the bathroom for something like the forty-seventh consecutive night, and -- just as during all those nights before -- I was sobbing. Sobbing so hard, in fact, that a great lake of tears and snot was spreading before me on the bathroom tiles, a veritable Lake Inferior (if you will) of all my shame and fear and confusion and grief. I don't want to be married anymore."


"I equal parts loved him and could not stand him... Let it be sufficient to say that, on this night, he was still my lighthouse and my albatross in equal measure. The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving. I didn't want to destroy anything or anybody. I just wanted to slip quietly out the back door, without causing any fuss or consequences and then not stop running until I reached Greenland."

Does that sound like anyone you know? Really? How about this:


"I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency to only see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism."

I swear that Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love was the best, most thought-provoking book I've read in ages. We must be kindred spirits. Thanks to my mom for giving me this Bestseller for Christmas. It's a must read for any woman who's searching for anything in her life, be it spirituality, self-actualization, love, or just something different.

Excerpts from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (c) 2006, Penguin Books.

Hypothetically speaking...

Today, I had a lunch meeting with my regional manager. I thought it a bit odd that he asked me to lunch and then drove three and-a-half hours to meet with me just to discuss the weather... so I kept waiting for him to get to the point of the meeting. After I'd discussed all of my successes in '07 and my plans for the new year, he finally got to the reason for his visit: he wanted to find out if I'd be interested in a management position - IF he had one open, which he doesn't at the moment.

After further discussions, I determined which position he was trying to fill and told him that, dependent on the remuneration, I would be happy to consider the job, should it become available.

After just two years with the company, I'm being considered for a management job... how cool is that? Hypothetically speaking, of course...

Can I Just Say, "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"

As we began preparations of our New Year's dinner, "A" made a confession. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, since he prefaced it with a query of "how much do you love me?" What he confessed made me want to throw up... he's been dipping snuff!!!! GROSSSSSSSS! I can remember so well asking my grandmother how in the world she could stand to kiss my grandfather and she told me that she made him wash out his mouth before she'd even come close!


I fear that my response wasn't very mature. I was disgusted. Then, I recalled my admonition to him earlier in the day that he had something in his teeth. He said it must have been pipe tobacco and I, like an idiot, bought that! He must have gotten nervous that I was on to him (honestly, I was clueless).


One of the best looking guys at my high school lost half his lower face and half his tongue to mouth cancer. I really thought "A" had better sense than this.


BLECH!!!!!!!!

DON'T DIP SNUFF!!!!!!

Strangers in the Night

Tonight we went out to dinner. Even in the aftermath of a migraine, I ended up driving so that he could play with my new Christmas toy -- a GPS unit. We arrived at the restaurant and sat down... ordered drinks and after a couple of stilted attempts at conversation, resigned ourselves to the occasional comment about the food, service or cranky children sitting behind us. It was sad to think that after 7 years of marriage I couldn't come up with one single thing to talk about. I listened to the conversations around us and felt awkward and uncomfortable in our silence.

We came home and I picked Dirty Dancing -- my favorite bad movie in all the world -- as our "movie of the night" and he promptly fell asleep. As I watched the sweet love story unfold, I sat and cried... not because the movie was sad, but because I am so incredibly unhappy.

He's now gone up to his new office where he's been sleeping every night on the giant sack chair I got him for Christmas and I wonder what the hell we're doing and why.

I've cancelled my vacation for next week. I just couldn't imagine an entire week alone with him. We are truly strangers now and it breaks my heart.

It's all my fault

Last night was A's company holiday party. I finally succumbed to the flu on Thursday night and stayed home from work on Friday... so I wasn't feeling up to going. I should have seen it coming, but somehow I just wasn't very observant and missed the end-around. After whining to the dog about me not going with him, he started to get ready and asked me which shirt he should wear. I gave my opinion, with which he, of course, argued - because he argues with everyone about everything -- including experts in every field. When I refused to take the bait and argue, he got mad and decided he wasn't going to the party after all. Then he stormed off to the liquor store, came home and headed straight upstairs to his office, where he stayed for the remainder of the evening.

Today hasn't been much better - although I did manage to get a home-cooked breakfast amid the complaints about the cost of it and the cursing and ranting and raving that went along with the cooking of it (always makes the meal so much more tasty!) After just three weeks of him being back in the house, I'm already finding myself escaping to the bathroom for a good cry.

It IS all my fault. It's my fault for going forward with the move when I knew in my heart that it wasn't going to work. It's my fault for not speaking up and telling him how I really feel. As much as I hate to admit it... it really IS my fault. Now I just need to fix it. Won't that be fun?

A Case of the "I don't give a shits"

Have you ever had days where you just don't give a hairy rat's ass about anything? Here's the list of things I need to do:

1. Get the rest of my business holiday cards addressed and mailed.
2. Follow-up with over a dozen people who've cancelled appointments over the past few weeks to reschedule.
3. Process a bunch of paperwork to get cases released
4. Prospect for new business
5. File
6. Start estimating 4th quarter taxes
7. Schedule 2008 Planning Meetings
8. and about a hundred other items and tasks... including putting up my Christmas tree!

Know what? I have no inclination to do any of it. Maybe it's the bug I've been fighting off... maybe it's the dismal, gray weather... maybe it's that I'd rather be working on the new play list for the band... or maybe it is, indeed, that I just don't give a shit. I think I'll give myself permission to indulge in this feeling -- just for today. Tomorrow, I'll tackle the "To Do" list again. Whew, what a relief!

Honesty

Do you guess it's a bad thing that when he asked if he was bothering me I said, 'yes'?

I've never thought of myself as a solitary soul, but I'm finding myself wishing more and more for the peace and quiet that was my life just two months ago. The ear-splitting action movies and the constant need for approval is wearing on my ever-so-thin nerves.

There's an obvious displeasure about my new involvement with the band and about the hours I keep at work, and there's an increasing level of discontent with his current employer. I can see the hand writing on the wall -- a big storm is brewing. I will be willing to bet that as soon as he's fully vested in his retirement plan at work (March), he will pull another stunt like the one he pulled after we got married when he came home and announced that he had quit his job with no other prospects on the horizon.

He's not a bad person -- really, he isn't. He's just not MY person... you know -- THE ONE. I thought he was... but I was oh so wrong. Guess it's time to be honest about that, too.

Since when...

is "why don't you put up those chips and eat me instead" considered foreplay?

I'm just sayin'...

Hit Me With Your Best Shot...

and other hits from the 70's, 80's and 90's could be heard across the Rosemont Road corridor last evening as our heroine belted out Benetar, Stevie Nicks, Jefferson Airplane, Sheryl Crow, Six Pence, None the Richer and many, many more. Not only did she prove herself a capable rocker, but also achieved the goose-bump effect with some sultry ballads including her rendition of Patsy Cline's Crazy.

Stay tuned for repeat engagements in 2008!

The Little Voice Inside My Head...

said: Lauren, just find a place of inner peace and wait for him to move on.

I never talk to myself in the third person. Who's in there?????

Alpha Dog

Do you know how ridiculous it is to watch a grown man try to exert his dominance over a terrier? This was the scene at my house last night: man eating crackers and cheese (dog's favorite 'people food'), dog sitting a nose-length away waiting for a crumb to be dropped, man yelling at dog, dog ignoring man, woman calling dog, dog ignoring woman, man screaming at dog, dog vaguely moved, man stands up, dog growls... Mexican Stand-off in the living room.

Woman covers her eyes and shakes her head, man heads off to bed in a tiff, woman and dog sleep in guest room.

Welcome to my world.

Not so fast...

Word to the wise: don't trust a fine needle aspiration biopsy. You'll recall that the son of one of my business partners had one to rule out lymphoma. Well, due to their inability to explain the fact that he had five enlarged lymph nodes, they decided to excise them. The diagnosis: lymphoma. We're still waiting for details -- NHL, or Hodgkin's -- full body scan and consult with oncology are occurring today. Mom and dad are on their way to be by his side.

Cancer sucks!

The End of an Era

Driving down the highway this week, I saw the unthinkable taking place right before my eyes. The center of my childhood social life was being razed. The twisted metal that once was the College Park Skating Rink reminded me of a war zone -- far from the fond memories that were typically brought to mind each time I passed it. The old structure had long since become a bingo hall, but I couldn't help but smile to myself at all of the firsts that occurred there: my first 'couples skate', which meant holding hands, my first kiss, my first broken bone and my first broken heart, as Bill 'couples skated' with Sarah instead of me as Hall & Oates crooned Sara Smile in the darkened rink. I spent every Friday night of my youth in that place -- laughing, playing and learning about life and love, about friendship and rejection. It's been a constant reminder of the simplicity of life -- of happy times -- and I am sad to see it go.

Bugsy

Oh, dear Lord, please don't let me be that woman... the one who ends up alone at 80 with no family and an ancient, failing puppy dog as my only companion. I met such a person today, whose only concern was that his precious Bugsy be taken care of if he died. It was a first for me -- someone wanting to buy life insurance to take care of a beloved pet. Unfortunately, I think Bugsy's owner will outlive him by far. Poor, poor pup... blind, deaf and feeble... but he is everything to this man, who refers to him as his son. I refer to Caleb the same way.

Long live Bugsy!

Don't Drink the Coffee

I had quite an interesting experience today. I spent the better part of two hours at the home of the most eccentric woman alive, helping her take care of some issues with her existing policies. She served me coffee and breakfast cookies and told me story after story after story about how people had taken advantage of her over the years - including the people who duped her into selling her old house and buying the one in which she currently lives. She told me that the house was making her crazy and she told me what she'd like to DO to the people who "made" her buy it.

Then, as we neared the end of our encounter, she misplaced a piece of paper on which she had taken notes. She came so completely unglued that I started to get nervous -- extremely nervous. I finally got in front of her and, in a calm voice, said, "Penny, calm down" (not her real name, by the way). She snapped back to reality and, together, we located the piece of paper. If I had to diagnose her based on my Cracker Jack Box medical degree, I would say that she is likely a paranoid schizophrenic.

As I drove away, I had this momentary bout of panic... I started to feel faint... my lips went all tingly and I wondered: what was IN that coffee, anyway?

Bone Tired

I'm just sapped... worn out... exhausted. Sleep doesn't seem to help -- at least not getting two hours at a time interrupted by Godzilla stomping down the hall to the bathroom. What does he have on the bottom of those bedroom slippers anyway? And who, in God's name, gets up at 4:15 in the morning when they don't have to be at work til 8:30? Seriously, WHO?

I just want to run away to a desserted island and lounge on the beach for a month -- uninterrupted, save for the chiseled boy toy who delivers exotic drinks to me every hour on the hour... and hand feeds me grapes and mangos... yeah... that's the ticket.

Knee-High in Boxes

I hate disorder. I loathe upheaval. I abhor interruption to my routine. That's where I am right now though, knee-high in boxes with my entire life turned upside down.

The first night with Ali back in the house ended much like our nights used to end before he moved out: me in the guest bedroom and him raising the roof with ear-drum-splitting snoring in the master bedroom... and one very confused puppy trotting back and forth between the two.

Methinks it bodeth not well.

How is this blog like a Carpenter's song?

Talkin' to myself and feelin' old
Sometimes I'd like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothin' is really wrong
Feelin' like I don't belong
Walkin' around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me.

What I feel has come and gone before
No need to talk it out
We know what it's all about
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

Words and Music by Paul Williams and Roger Nichols (c) 1971

Since no one is posting any replies, I can only assume that I'm talking to myself... and it IS a rainy day... and I am feelin' down... I'm just sayin'...

Unreasonable?

I am unreasonable, and lazy. No, really... I am! At least according to one of my agents. I have asked that agents not schedule appointments on Monday so that I can deal with all of the administrative issues relative to doing business (running quotes, preparing for meetings, following up on underwriting, etc). I have also asked that they not schedule appointments after 5 pm on Friday so that I can have dinner with my family ONE night a week. Every other night, I work. I take appointments from 10 am to 7 pm Tuesday through Thursday, Friday afternoons from 2 to 5 and Saturdays from 10 am to 4 pm. How is THAT unreasonable?

GRRR.

Update on my agent/friend and her son: her melanoma is Stage 1 - superficial. She will have the remainder of the lesion and surrounding fatty tissue removed on the 19th. No additional treatment will be required. Her son's needle biopsy came back benign. They will likely excise the nodes just to be sure there's nothing occult going on in there. Whew. Good news all around.

Perspective

Why is it that when you're feeling sorriest for yourself the Universe has a way of putting things into perspective.

As you all know, I've been in a bit of a funk lately -- and my meeting in Northern Virginia this past week didn't help matters any. The company is changing faster than we can assimilate the changes and, as everyone knows, _ _ it runs down hill! So, feeling completely crapped upon, I went to meet with one of my favorite partners -- a woman in her 50's with two grown children who are both planning to get married in the next year and a half.

Several weeks ago she had mentioned that her husband told her she really needed to go to the doctor to have this large mole removed from her back. She did... and the results were not good: melanoma. While we don't yet know the extent of the diagnosis (she meets with the surgeon tomorrow), cancer of any kind is never welcome news. While that's bad enough, in the midst of her wait for that all-important surgeon's appointment, her 28 year old son called to tell them that he thinks he has lymphoma (he's a doctor) and, although he's awaiting his biopsy results feels almost certain that's what it is.

So, my measly little issues with contractors, disagreeable partners (both business and personal) and the latest company strategy for cost-shifting pale in comparison to what my friend and her family are going through. I have so much to be thankful for... so I am officially ending the whine-o-rama. Everyone, go hug your kids, parents, spouses and siblings and be thankful that they're with you today and that everyone's okay.

WARNING: Political Post

Today, I watched the Republican Presidential Debate on Fox. I know, I know... people think Fox is biased and right wing and wacky... but I wanted to hear what these guys had to say. I was struck by the answers of Congressman (Dr.) Ron Paul. I've long been a Constitutional Republican and I was absolutely floored to find someone going against the "New Republican" philosophy. Over these past eight years, I've grown increasingly dissatisfied with the direction the Republican Party has taken. Once the party of limited powers of the Federal Government, low taxes and free markets, they've become a cheap knock-off of their Democrat counterparts... all about spending and invading personal liberties. It's really quite frightening.

While many may find Paul to be shocking in his views, I find him refreshing. Although I don't agree with him 100% on all issues, neither do I agree with any OTHER candidate 100% on all issues. Of course, I tend to lean a bit Libertarian and Paul has Libertarian roots. That being said, I invite you to visit his site and read for yourself: http://www.ronpaul2008.com/issues/

I was so impressed by his performance in the debate that I pulled out the check book and donated. Then I signed up to run a signature campaign to get his name on the ballot in Virginia. I encourage each of you to do the same for the candidate of your choice. This is, after all, supposed to be OUR country. Let's make our voices heard!

Surprise!

You know, I try very hard not to be an angry person. I don't like being around angry people -- they make me uncomfortable -- yet since Monday, I've been an angry person.

I'm angry at my business partner for giving me the shaft on the office space front. I'm angry at my contractor for giving me the short end of the stick when it comes to getting my job done on time (he called off work on Friday so he could put all his guys on SOMEONE ELSE'S job so that it could be finished on time). I'm angry at myself for being angry - and for subsequently stuffing my face with comfort food. I'm angry at Ali for constantly complaining about the inadequacy of the space I'm paying to build for him. I'm just plain old angry! It kind of surprised me today as I was moving all of my stuff from my lovely, secluded, quiet, large office space to my dinky, wide-open, noisy office space. I picked up a chair and flung it against the wall. I didn't realize I had it in me to act that way... but in that moment, I wanted to break things. I reigned myself in - but it really was quite surprising.

I know that I will not be able to stay in this office space for long. I'm seething over the whole thing. I keep trying to 'let it go', but it keeps bubbling to the surface. It's so very unfair. He promised me that office space! If I had known I was going to be crammed into this fish bowl, I never would have moved here in the first place!

All of that being said, I simply cannot allow this to derail my fourth quarter. Every one's relying on me to produce miracles and I can't produce miracles while my head's up my ass. Let it go, Lauren... breathe in, breathe out... focus on joy and peace and abundance and St. Thomas in April (that's the location of our trip for top producers). Think happy thoughts... like "Johnny Numb Nuts" writhing in pain from thousands of scorpion stings. Oh, crap, there I go again! Breathe in... breath out...