Stubs

While at mom’s a few weeks ago, I took a bunch of stuff from her house–somehow I still have more. It makes me sick how much utter crap I have! I have a hard time letting go of stuff.

I took a coffee mug (that I will keep, since it’s from Granada) home that was filled with ticket stubs. I used to keep my ticket stubs and write who I went with on the back.   Some of the movies I don’t even remember seeing, nor do I even remember that they were a movie!

Most of the people on the back I remember. I think there was only one person on there who wasn’t familiar. There were a lot of recurring ones–like my standing Monday night movie dates with Chris and Amanda.

There was one–Larry and Co. Took me awhile, but the memory came back. I went on three or so dates with Larry. Second or third date was with some friends of his, another couple. During dinner, I had gone to the bathroom and as I walked back, I could tell the other girl warned them that I was returning. When I sat down, I said something like, “I’m back, you have to stop talking about me now.” One of them made a lame remark about talking about the pictures on the wall. Yeah, right. I totally knew they were talking about me and I totally didn’t care. So maybe I shouldn’t have called them out on it, but it was SO obvious. Anyway, Larry didn’t make it that far.

There were a few with Lance, who I dated a whopping two months. A few with mom and/or my step dad, dad and step mom, people from church.

Not sure why I hung onto those. I guess they are fun memories, but I’m really trying to figure out this clutter thing. I’m sure had I ended up marrying one of those dates, it’d be a cute thing to frame, but alas, right now I hardly know their last names.

So I just threw them away. There were probably about 40 or so.  Anyway, the memories are still there somewhere, I guess I just don’t need the physical reminder of them–they just take up space.

Keep tuned for more adventures of the vast amount of crap I own.

Acknowledging

Someone once told me that you should acknowledge your feelings when you have them, don’t push them away or think they’re bad or anything like that.

So, right now I’m acknowledging them. And I’m sad.

One year ago

It was one year ago today that I woke up and headed to my dad’s. I picked him up and we went to a nearby title company. Yes, it was a year ago today that I closed on my house. Easy enough to remember–dad’s birthday.  It was very surreal. Dad took a few pictures, I signed and initialed, I took deep breaths. I pretended I understood everything.

Then we went to lunch. Nice lunch it was. Sent the pic to mom.

I think after that I came to my new house. I tried the lock, the guy gave me the wrong combo. Finally got in. I started by bringing in my mirror mosaic (which I have yet to hang. Got the hanging things and am having a hell of a time getting them on there).

A lot has happened since then. I really worked on me. I said that for the first time recently, and I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I really worked on me. Some of the good, positive highlights, because really, why rehash the bad things?:

Around the house, I haven’t done a whole lot of big things, but I’ve done lots of little things. I racked up huge credit card bills buying the perfect bedroom set and the perfect table and chairs and art work and bookshelves and paint. I downgraded my trashcans twice. I’ve been working on cleaning up after myself. I am a cluttered person. I’m working on de-cluttering and picking up more. I threw an awesome party. I bought great rugs,  one of them a for-real Persian rug. I painted my bedroom.

I haven’t lost weight (no, really, I haven’t), but I’ve worked out more. I’ve been mostly trying to eat healthier. I joined a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and ate lots of weird veggies. I quit the CSA and joined Greenling, where they deliver the goods to your door. Not all local stuff, but all organic and all delicious. I’ve cooked a lot more and tried new recipes. I take my lunch most days of the week.  I’ve dyed my hair several different shades, including a magenta-ish color.

I was in two of my BFF’s weddings, as a singleton. I went on a lot of weird dates (not to mention 2 of the most boring ever, one who asked me to save my pee for him, one who couldn’t decide between me and another woman). I also went on a lot of good dates with another BFF (they basically were dates, right?).

I completed my 5th year as a teacher in a position I love. LOVE. Completed my 4th year as a Team Leader. Was released from both those positions. Offered a new job at the same place. I’m terrified and excited about the new challenge. But back to this past year.

I travelled. Boy, did I travel. I found out Japan is one of my favorite places in the world. I took a picture with Geishas. I cried when I did. I teared up when I was at that intersection in Tokyo, that’s like 18 crosswalks all together.  I’ve never had such an over-whelming “I’m supposed to come back here” feeling before in my life.

I worked on me emotionally and mentally by seeing a shrink (I use that term in love). I’ve been to several in my life. I’ve never cried so much sitting in one of those chairs as I have this go-round. She’s made me work, she’s made me think.

I cultivated friendships, I got to know people more, I talked to more people. I backed off on other friendships. I listened more to the voice that said maybe I should be careful with what I say to certain people. I chose to stay in more. I chose when I did and didn’t go out. I drank a lot of wine.

I’ve worked really hard to get me where I am today. And I do think it all started with this house. It’s been a good year, a tough year, a fun year and an interesting year. And I guess I only have 29 more years to go until I own!

Listening with your head

I’ve always listened with my heart. I bought my house based on a gut instinct. (heart…teared up when I walked in the door). My gut (my heart) says this is good, this is bad. She’s really nice, but I get a bad feeling from her. He seems cool enough, but my gut says something is off.

Someone said that to me today. Something about how hard it is to listen with your head, not with your heart. How we have to go with that.

Sure is sucking right now. Because my brain knows it’s smart, and has to win out this time.

Warning: May Cause Bruising

This weekend I was at my mom’s, helping her move some stuff, helping her figure out what to throw, what to give, what to donate. As I stood in the pantry, looking through a cookbook, a cockroach jumped out. Now, if you know me, I’m no good with the roaches. Can’t handle them. I threw the book, screamed. Mom screamed. As the book dropped, a fucking WHITE roach ran toward the closet (presumably away from the sunlight it had never seen!). I jumped–JUMPED–out of the pantry and banged the hell out of my knee.

I knew I’d have a bruise.

As I’ve shown off my bruise, I thought a lot about bruises.

They’re painful. And they’re ugly.

Sometimes bruises show up and you don’t remember where they came from or how you got them. When did I hit my shin? That spot hurts, and it looks like a big bruise, and it’s ugly, but I don’t remember doing that.

You hit that bruise and it’s a reminder. Sometimes you don’t know what it’s a reminder of. How did I hit my arm there? Stuff just comes up. Memories come back. Subtleties trickle in. Wait, maybe it was when I was cleaning the kitchen. Sometimes you really can’t remember where it came from.

Sometimes you know you’re going to bruise.  I remember whacking the hell out of my knee. I knew it’d be an impressive bruise, and oh! the story to go with it! (Yes, it was fucking white!!). It’s like a badge of honor. Look what I had to go through and look what I have to show for it! You know when you touch it, that it will hurt. You know that it will hurt during the day. You know the slightest bump will be painful. You know it’ll get worse before it gets better.

It changes colors, it changes intensities. It changes size, new bruising appears. Old bruising fades.

There are bruises that cause a laugh. Like the HUGE one I got when I fell down (not even drinking!) at WurstFest because some people who were drunk couldn’t dance well. That bruise was HUGE!! But the story behind it was hilarious. I liked showing it off, I liked telling people about it. And then when we were in a circle, I tripped or hit something wrong and I crashed into a picnic table.

Or the time I had fingerprints on my leg. Yes, fingerprints from when The Guys picked me up and threw me in the river. Annoyed, although it was funny. We got our revenge… Was fun to say, “Look at the fingerprints you gave me!”

The thing about bruises is that they’re always ugly, they’re most always painful.

But they do go away. The pain and the ugliness does eventually go away.

Driving

So I had another dream. More dreams. Whatever. Same dream?

Amusement park type of thing with Dad. We were going to ride the XLR8 (which really was a ride at Astroworld–wow, flashbacks, no?) But he got a call that he had to go to the shelter (he really does work at a shelter). So he started to drive our little car off the track. (It was like one of those little cars you get to drive around the park)

We pulled up to the place–two young boys (don’t remember if they were my students in the dream, but they were later on).  They were sitting on the ground, against a car or something.

Dad got out to talk to the police officer guy (I think he got something from the glove compartment). I watched the boys. Their eyes got big and scared as they watched my dad talk to the guy. Turns out he pulled out a gun (not in a bad way) and he was cleaning it. He had turned some so I couldn’t really see it.

In real life, dad says driving dreams are really important. Like whose driving your life sort of thing. So I don’t know what all that means, yet.  It’s obvious about the students. The guns, coat hangers, cleaning guns, costume parties… I’m more at a loss.

Password Protected

Just so you know,  I’ll probably have a few “password protected” posts coming up. If you ask, I’ll most likely tell you.

A coat hanger?

Okay, so last night’s dream, I must have been at some sort of costume party or something … some woman came in dressed as–get this a coat hanger!!  She had like a big overcoat on, with a coat hanger in it. I don’t know if she told me or if I knew what she was. It kinda seems like maybe I did it, too, to follow her.

That’s all I really remember. Or that’s what stood out to me. I don’t know.

Weird.

dreams

Holy shit, it was a drem-filled night. Little blurbs that I remember:

• Walking next to a beach, lots of water (water is very common in my dreams), looking or being underneath the wave of a good surfboarding wave, walking with step-mom
• being in some kind of weird building, where women were all dressed up in Victorian style dresses, one SUPER tall.
• waiting by the elevator (at that same place) to get in, lots of people, including the super tall one, and those there to see the “shows” (yes, that kind) shoved into the elevator, I got on the empty one that came just a second later. One of my students with his dad (!! Who takes their kid to this type of place?!) on the elevator. I get on, they get off.  Elevator doesn’t seem to move, but looking out the window, I can tell it is.
• There’s some guy that was doing something bad to/with dad (not like that). Some sort of UHaul  that connects to the car was involved.  Had to get away from the scary guy. Dad had the Uhaul people bring a new one for some reason.  Dad attached the new one (to make it seem like the old one). Dad lit it on fire, and sped off. I was in my car and had to speed off to b/c all the evidence was getting blown up. Hard to get away. Another scary guy ran along next to my car for a bit.

I know there was more. I was thinking them over and over as I woke up sweating. Thought of more in the shower, don’t remember them now.   Weird.

I’m exhausted.