If Only This Blog Had an About Me Section

There is a lot that I need to come out about before I start this post. My fear with this blog has always been (and continues to be), "What if XXX reads it and won't care for me anymore?" or "What if I embarrass my parents (again) and it hurts them?" I have no real way to answer either question, but at some point, I can feel things building up inside me and my desire to spill out my ever-loving guts on the Internet comes busting out. So, without further ado....

1) I'M HERE AND I'M QUEER!

That's the first part that I need to come out about. After my relationship with Clicker ended, I moved into my house and things just felt different. Although I lie in bed at night and worry that I won't have enough money and will be forcibly evicted from my house, I feel more settled here in a way that's hard to explain. I look around my house, constantly amaze, and think, "Hell ya. This shit is MINE!" I've even changed my sleeping habits. I used to sleep curled up on the far right hand side of my bed, but now I sleep in the middle or diagonally across the whole thing. I think the whole process of sleeping as if I owned the bed (which I do) confuses my cat to no end, but I'm getting off point here. My point is that I moved into my house and the way I look at life started to change. I realized that I can take control of my happiness and not leave it up to fate, bad first dates, or my fear of being 'outed' as a bad daughter, woman, lover, mother, and co-worker.

The me that I am, that I've always been, has wanted to be with women - even though they are all bat-shit crazy and turn me bat-shit crazy, but that's another post all together. Let me go onto point number two that I want to come out about and you'll see how this all ties in together:

2)   I WANT ANOTHER BABY!

Whew, I'm glad I got that off my chest. There are a lot of guilt issues with me being a single Mom and knowing that my friends and family will most certainly not support the expansion of my family has been difficult.

So, there it is: I'm gay, single, raising an amazing six year-old, and constantly worrying about money. The only way I can stack this less in my favor would be if I had a physical or mental disability. I guess that would make the situation worse. Or I could hate babies. That would certainly put a damper on the "I want another baby" outing party.

Sometimes well meaning friends will tell me that I need to seriously consider having another baby again, by myself (again), and what that would mean to my family. As much as I love my friends, that question is total bullshit. Would I even be bringing up something like another baby if I hadn't already put serious thought behind it? In the six and a half years that Zac has been on this Earth, have I ever, ever mentioned wanting to gestate another human being by myself? That's a definite no to both questions. Never before in my writing or personal conversations have I talked about how or why I feel like this is a necessary part of my life.

I can even feel now that I'm failing to adequately express the complex emotions that would go into a decision like this. I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to, but I at least needed to put it out there that there that I think about it a lot, especially since I found out my company covers fertility treatments at 100% on our health insurance.

If either of these two bold (with exclamation points!!) announcements cause you to love or respect me less, then I'm sorry. I still love and respect you. Maybe one day you can open your heart and embrace all of me. Until then, I'll be waiting.

Year in Review

Yes, I'm still among the living. Occasionally, I even blog (although not often). Another year has gone by and since yesterday was my birthday (31!), I thought I'd do a year in review. Since my memory isn't nearly good enough to remember everything, I'll just go for the highlights and lowlights.

Highlights:

I became a Financial Advisor! I passed my Series 7 in January 2011 and passed my Series 66 and Insurance exams in February. I had some early success with my job, although I'm told at least two or three times a day that I'm not to talk about it in any social media forum. Consider this my way of not talking about it.

I've lost 45 lbs through lap band surgery on February 24, 2011:

There have been a lot of ups and downs with my post surgical stomach and life style. I can eat very, very little pasta and bread. Rice is a little dicey and any kind of gourmet food can make me sick after a couple of bits. I've never puked as much as I have since February (see lowlights), but I've made progress toward my weight loss goal.

I bought a house on July 29, 2011:

and I have remodeled and redecorated just about every room in the house. Here are some before and after photos:

Who could forget that awesome wall paper that I took down. This was my absolute first project in the house. Here's a close-up of the most awesome border ever:

Now the kitchen looks like this:

I also painted my fireplace white and destroyed the main bathroom (literally). I'll save those for another post.

We adopted Sam, who is so much happier in the house than she was in the apartment. I personally love that she blends in with my new shag carpet:

She's also getting ready for our first Christmas in our house (with a cameo from Clicker):

Zac started a new school on September 2, 2011. He had a hard time adjusting to his new school, but I think he's finally settled down. Knowing that we'll be in this house for at least the next seven years has helped. He has made friends with the four kids that live on our street and he's doing unbelievably well in his Gifted and Talented class. He's learning faster than I can keep up.

Lowlights:

Puking after every other meal. Literally. I puke so much that I'm starting to worry about tooth erosion. Once I start to get used to how much I can eat at any given meal, I get the band filled and all hell breaks out. I've also only lost 45lbs and I seem to be stuck at this weight. Exercise and fewer cheetos might be in order. I'm worried about getting the band filled more than 8cc's because I already have such food restrictions, but I may have to see my doctor again soon.

I didn't see my sister this year. She's in her third year of medical school in Maine and going on rotations in New Hampshire. The more she interacts with the general public, the better her stories get. I wish she and Zac could hang out. I hope they can see each other soon and I can get to spend some time with her.

All of October and most of November. Seriously. I wish that I could talk about it, especially here.

I lost a good friend. I can't mention her name in this forum, but I lost someone in my life and it's been difficult. I've mentioned several times that I don't have many friends in Texas, so to lose such a good friend, well, I continue to struggle with it.

Neighborhood bullies. Zac doesn't have a "Dad" that lives with us and some of the punks in the neighborhood tease him about it. To avoid further teasing about it, he told his first grade teacher that his Dad died when he was 3. We're in therapy now, although I'm not a huge fan of the therapist. Zac seems to like him though.

Love. Lot's of confusion over love this year. There have been some highlights, but a lot of lowlights as well.

Sam's need to chew and dig holes. I have gopher-sized holes in my backyard where she tries to attack the roots growing under the ground. The one next to the foundation is particularly worrisome. She's also eaten four pairs of high heels, to date, and two cherished, childhood ornaments that my Grandma made.

Here is to 2012!

Better (A Little)

Saying that I'm better is basically wishing that a giant asteroid would hit my head and destroy my house. I don't actually want that so I'll hedge my bets by saying that I'm a little better. The great sadness has mostly left me, although occasionally I don't want to leave the house, but I'm told that's normal. I'm going to so much therapy that it would pain me to actually talk about. Even better, the nicest improvement is that I can be at work without crying or constantly eyeing the exits, wishing that I had enough courage to run sprinting out the door instead of sitting miserably in my desk chair.

There have been a lot of trying times that I'm trying to put past me. There have been romantic, interpersonal, and professional struggles that are all still there to a degree, but ultimately, I am feel better.

Just felt like I should update and say that out loud (err..in my head, I mean).

I'm going on a date tonight with someone that makes me very happy to be around. It's like going on a little vacation because I forget all my troubles when I'm around them. I literally don't do any housework or spend anytime worrying about money (one of my least favorite past times that I seem to do quite a bit of. See: never leaving the house when upset).

I do want to tell you about this dog of mine, known as Samantha - or Sam for short. Sam is a holy terror. She sleeps in a crate and goes to the bathroom outside (at least 65% of the time, or so)

She looks all cute and cuddly in this picture, but that's before she's gained 15 pounds and decided that rules are for suckers. When I forget to put her in a crate before I take a nap, I wake up to a house that has been completely decimated. Everything in chewing reach has been chewed to oblivion and scattered through the living room, bedroom, and dining room. At last count, she has completely destroyed and/or eaten: half a bottle of Elmer's Glue, 32 crayons, a sponge, a shower scrub, every piece of newspaper or copy paper in the house, 4 stuffed animals not-so-lovingly donated by Zac, rope, curtain pulls, socks, wooden train tracks, and so many other items that I can't stop to think about right now because I might banish her outside.

This guy loves her, though:

He tells me at least once a night what a good dog Sam is. For me, I never knew that dog ownership could be quite so...destructive. Sam is fiercely loyal and protective of her family, almost to the point that I have to put her outside to answer the door when someone comes over because I'm afraid that she'll rip out their jugular before they have time to slip her a treat.

Let's not even talk about the dog's relationship to the cat. My cat, Piper, is queen of the household and knows it. She hisses and bats at Sam whenever the dumb dog tries to lick Piper on the head or play with her. Those two are going to run the shag carpets in this house with their tangle of claws. Piper usually looks to me for protection and has been known to leap long distances to avoid walking on the floor where the dreaded dog is. You've never seen a happy cat than the one that comes up on my bed at night and demands to be petted, once Sam is in her crate. Seriously.

Raising a family of four, even when two of them are animals, can be tough. I feel like I'm in a never ending game of the "Farmer and Dell" and sometimes I wonder if I'm the cheese that the mouse takes at the end. If the boy takes the dog and the dog takes a cat, I'd like to think I'm Brie or Gouda - something fancy at least.

A Heaviness

I'm not sure what is going on with me (other than my computer seems to be boycotting the "t" button on the keyboard, which is frustrating). I hate that work has such a hold over me, but as I sit in my 1980's house that was decorated by an octogenarian, I can't help but wonder if I'm going to be able to keep enjoying my shag carpeting. Everything is fleeting and I was never confident that I could stay in house. It was too tenuous, too much of a risk for a single woman with a child.

Now I don't want to get out of bed. I think, "if I stay in bed, I can stop time. I can live inside my own brain and not have to interact with anyone. I can exist". Let's be honest. This is an improvement over where I've been recently in my life - when existing seemed harder than not existing. Now I can continue as long as I'm unconscious.

Going to work in the mornings is getting harder and harder. I'm not sure what to do. Just sleep I suppose. Sleep and therapy and maybe some soft blankets and old stuffed animals.

In the Market

I've sat on this blog post for a couple of days, which must mean that I'm maturing a bit because normally I would have just let it fly on the Internet and see where everything landed. Although my job constantly reminding me about our "social media" policies where I'm forbidden to talk about work and warned against "posting overly personal information" might have something to do with this.

Let's see...what can I tell you? I broke a handful of rules at work and I thought I was going to be fired. I actually broke rules that I didn't even know were rules. That's not surprising given how highly regulated the finance industry is. I sometimes wonder if I should get approval before e-mailing. So, my boss was out of the office for a week and that entire week I was convinced that he was going to come back and fire me. I do an amazing impersonation of Chicken Little.  I'm told that I'm overly dramatic for no reason. I think it has more to do with being fired or asked to quit from more jobs than I can shake a stick at.

I actually received a written warning and I've decided to continue on at the firm where I'm working. It's a great firm and a great opportunity, but there's another problem (there always is, right? If there weren't, what on Earth would anyone blog about).

I've been at this firm for about a year. I'm starting to get comfortable at work with my coworkers, but if I've learned anything about myself it's that I have absolutely no tact or sense of foreboding. Basically, I jump before I think - in regards to everything, particularly to personal relationships. I suck and I'm shocked that anyone ever wants to be friends with me. I can't tell you how many times I've had to apologize for being myself. Here's the cycle: I get comfortable and stop faking or monitoring my actions or reactions; I stick my neck out and do something that I'll later categorize as "stupid"; I realize that it's stupid because I hurt the people around me or make them think that I don't have a lick of common sense; I apologize; I go back to faking my actions and reactions. The cycle goes on and on.

For everyone that says "just be yourself and everything will be ok" hasn't had to apologize for being themselves as much as I have. Just saying. I don't know where you learn common sense for relationships, but I'd like to. Any ideas? I'm in the market, in more ways than one.

Confused and Scared

I know that I've been really vague lately on this blog, but that has a lot to do with the reasons that I'm confused and scared right now. Personally, I'm relying on good friends and the advice of mentors. Professionally, I'm in a much different place now than I was a year ago when I started my job. I'm not sure what's next and the fear and uncertainty is keeping me up at night.

Here is what I do know: I love helping people. That's why I went to Mongolia with the Peace Corps, that's why I worked in non-profits for five years in Houston, and that's why I got into a job as a Financial Advisor. I like helping people. I'm a "fixer". If you tell me a problem, I'm going to rack my brain to come up with a solution.

Here is what else I know: I work hard. I try my best and everything I do and most of the time I'm successful. Sometimes, I fail miserably. I wonder what period I'm in now. Inventors didn't become great by succeeding their first try.

I take comfort in remembering that.

Oh right

It's 7:30pm and I'm outside sitting on my new patio furniture (that have cushions and everything!), typing in the dark, waiting for Zac to get home from baseball practice. To put this mildly, I have had a bad day. I started crying on the way home while talking to Clicker as he was getting ready to go network with airplane pilots and enthusiasts. I, meanwhile, am thinking about how nice these chairs will be when my home is foreclosed on. At least I'll have somewhere comfortable to sit on the corner underneath the freeway. Yeah...it's been that kind of day.

Here's the round-up from this weekend:

1) Got dumped
2) Got laughed out
3) Got bitched out by a husband because his wife yelled at him
4) Worried that I was being treated differently because of who I want to date
5) Tried unsuccessfully to recruit 50 or so people into my networking group so I can rejoin.
6) Had a massive case of paranoia hit me in waves.
7) Took my computer outside with blatant disregard of South Texas mosquitos.

So, I was dating someone. We went out five times and I'm too scared to even talk about it on my computer. I guess it doesn't matter. I liked the person and now it's over. Back to the single life, although I could really use a pep talk because coming home alone tonight was very, very tough.

When I'm not getting put through the ringer personally, I'm getting it professionally. Sometimes (well, most times) I worry that I don't have enough self-esteem to handle my job. Actually, it's the rejection at the job that revolves around the job that I worry about. Sometimes I can't even pick up the phone to dial because I can sense the rejection. As my recent history clearly indicates, I like to reject myself before others have the chance.

Now I'm home and life with the 8cc of fill in my band is challenging. I've lost 40lbs, but the amount of food I can eat is so small and I get so sick quickly. I get nervous about eating. Right now I'm really hungry, which is a recipe (pun intended) for disaster. So I have to decide: do I just stay hungry or try to eat slowly and try to not get sick?

I need a damn hug.