You Belong With Me. . . .

I wrote this blog about five months ago and decided to not publish it due to the exposure it may get and the thoughts I had coming to light too soon. Well the scenario I wrote about is long past, however, I do feel that my life is cycler and applies to my life once again.

You can NEVER escape high school! In high school there was a boy that I loved. I so deeply loved him. I day dreamed of him finally coming around and finding me beautiful. Finally coming around and seeing that I was a quality girl worth taking a chance on. Alas, this boy was just too nice to break my heart. So he politely humored me through out my years at school. Though nothing was ever said on the matter between us, things were very clear, at least to me. He was not the one that got away, he was the one that took me to Prom, held my hand, never let me be alone, and did what he could to make up for the feelings he could not reciprocate. Deep down I knew it was a futile effort on my part, but the heart falls even when you don't want it to.

He married a girl worthy of him and I attended their reception envious of what they had.

My marriage fell apart from the beginning. And to survive, I became delusional about my life. Even telling little white lies as to why my husband at the time wasn't at family/social functions. It worked for years. Until the last thing my ex and I held on to about each other started to fade. Now the ten years in between the beginning and the end, I chose not to touch on right now. But I came out of that marriage broken and feeling discarded. I did not recognize who I was. I had done so much to hold on to my marriage/family, that I couldn't even remember what my favorite color was because I had changed it to be his favorite color along with everything else in my life.

Dating has been a challenge. A string of bad men have left me feeling less than worthy of a good guy, though that is what I seek. The Lord knows the prayer in my heart. The Lord has known the type of man I have sought after since I was young, almost to the point of desperation. He is patient with me, ever so patient as I learn to be the picky one. As I learn to change the men, not me.

Any one who has spoken to me recently knows that I HATE first dates. I hate getting to know a stranger with the looming expectation of "love" over my head. It ruins my dates every time. The example being that I am still going on first dates with men that never call me back. Because of this, I am finding parts of my high school self, (my only real dating reference) coming to the surface. Something I didn't mention before about the guy I was in love with in high school is that he was a close friend. I had only one real girl friend in high school. The rest were men. I was blessed to have a close knit circle of friends. It was about 8 solid guy friends that I was more comfortable with than any set of girls I've befriended in my lifetime. And this particular guy was one of them.

As far away from that scenario as I may have tried to go, I find myself facing it once again. I am finding that my heart is falling for a dear friend. One that again, is in a close knit group, is a gentleman always, and I feel I am not worthy of him. Of course he is too nice of a guy to tell me no, and treats me like I have longed to be treated with no effort or special purpose. So this once again makes my life a living hell. The thoughts of him are familiar because I have traveled this road before. The only thing different about this road is that I pray I learned something from my last trip down it, that I learned something that would prepare me for this journey. Either for the foreshadowing disappointment, or the delusional outcome I think about in my quiet moments. Either way, I know the Lord knows what I am going through. I know he has prepared this path for me. And I know that whatever outcome, even if there isn't one, is what the Lord wants me to experience.

My whole life I have wanted to be married, to be a wife and mother, to have a family of my own. And I am blessed beyond measure to have my girls. They are the best thing in my life. And my heart longs to share them with someone. I know the Lord understands this desire in my heart, because he helped put it there. And I know he is making my paths clear. So as I continue on this dating path, I do so with the Lord by side. I do this because I know that whomever I marry, belongs with me. He belongs with me. . . .

Jesus, Take the Wheel. . . .

I am an over analytical person. If you've read my past blogs, I've touched on that several times. I sift through most of everything in my life multiple ways. I've discovered that when I try and do something of grandeur, I fail. When I force something, I fail. It's a control issue that stems from some part of my childhood hidden deep beneath the layers of my subconscious. I don't know why I do it, but I do. That being said, I struggle with this every day of my life. From dating to eating, I try and force things to happen. Now knowing this, I've begun to let go of the wheel of direction in my life and just go with the flow. Allowing instead of forcing. I'm not particularly good at it, but I still try because I want my life to happen naturally and the way it should. There are things that have happened recently to me that have surprised me. Things I've always wanted, always tried to achieve, and usually failed at, but now, see the path of least resistance and am happily skipping down the yellow brick road. I know that there have been many, many days where my heart was angry at God because things in my life were not going as planned. And I know that he heard every thought my spirit felt. He sat there while I tantrumed, cried, threatened and argued my way through the pain of my life. He understood why I did the things I did, the good and the bad. He let each choice teach me something new, and allowed me to try and force my life better knowing it would fail. Until one day, I finally let go. I finally let God take control. Now I'm not saying I won't revert back to my forceful ways, but I am thankful beyond expression for his love and constant direction. I pray that all who read this and all who don't, to let God lead your lives and feel the amazing spirit he brings. It's a New Years resolution worth trying.

So I ask you this, Have you let God take control today?

A Daisy A Day. . . .

A Daisy A Day is a song by Jud Strunk my grandma showed me years ago. It's a story told by a young boy about an elderly couple and how each day this man would go walking with his wife and give her a daisy. Even after her death, each day he'd walk to her and give her a daisy. This sentiment struck me deeply and I have been prepared to sing this song for my grandmother at her funeral ever since. However I was not prepared to sing any song for my grandfather's funeral when he unexpectedly passed away. It was upon my grandmother's request that my brother accompany me on guitar while I sing an old country song for her farm boy. My dad chose the song, Daddy's Hand by Holly Dunn and three days later I sang with all my heart for one of the best men on this earth.

It's now been seven months since his passing and with Christmas approaching, I can't help but think of him. At a recent trip to my grandmother's home, she shared something very special with me. She shared a story about a dandelion and how to the woman in the story, a dandelion was just dandy. My grandma went on to tell me about how she never liked cut flowers and told my grandpa to never give her any because they'd just die. How she'd much rather see roses in her garden than on her table. So with the exception of the occasional Mother's Day corsage, he never bought her any flowers. But each spring, when the grass was new and green, and the chill of winter was gone, my grandpa always brought her in a dandelion from the yard. As my grandmother's voice got shaky and tears streamed down her face, she told me how much she was going to miss that and I could feel her heartbreak as we stood in her now half empty bedroom.

It wasn't a daisy a day for my grandma, it was a dandelion every spring. So when this upcoming spring blossoms and those little yellow bursts of sunshine seemingly explode out of the lawn, I hope one makes it to my grandmother's table. There are many things in this life that remind me of my grandpa, and there are many things that will always be special because of my grandma, but the dandelion will now always be a shining example to me, of their love for one another. I pray to one day have a love like theirs. Simple, vibrant, resilient year after year, fruitful, have roots that grow deep, and is strong, no matter where planted.

Adore Adore. . . .

To Facebook, or not to Facebook. That is the question today.

I've run into an issue that I find silly and yet important. When is it okay to let people onto your Facebook friends list? I've known people who are very selective, like myself, and others who let any and everyone on the list. In an age where digital information is king, is it really safe to let just anyone read what you are doing for the night? Or look at your pictures you post? I find that in the dating world, Facebook can mean all too much. That if you let someone on your list, or if you boot them from it, it sends a serious message. One I find to be trivial at times. (For those of you who've read my past posts on the matter can understand my thoughts.)

Now I know that Facebook is rather juvenile at times and is ultimately a frivolous part of the all too important, bigger picture called life, but I can't help but feel a sense of power in my Facebook profile. I remember shortly after my ex-husband flew the coop, I found it somewhat liberating to change my relationship status from Married to So&So, to Single. I had control over that, and I could let everyone I cared to know, know, without saying a word.

But do we really have all that much power in a Facebook page? Do others really care about the pie you ate for Thanksgiving? Or how cute your dog is? Or what kind of pirate you'd be? Could it be that it's more, WE want others to care about US? I'm sure the same thing could be said about blogging. Just replace all the words: Facebook, with the word: Blog. However you want to read it, I believe it's because we all want to feel important and to be heard and to "accepted".

There are those people in life I simply cannot "accept". There is a reason they are not on my FB friends list and I believe I'm safe to say, we all have those types of people deleted from our accounts. But I'd like, for a moment, to focus on those that we do want on our FB friends list. The ones we do want to have know what's going on in our lives. But more specifically, the ones we have yet to "accept" into our little empowered world.

In life there always needs to be a balance. Good and Evil, Laughter and Sadness, Sweet and Salty (my personal favorite). So with that same sense of empowerment, I feel, also comes a sense of vulnerability. Pictures you may think are funny, can come across in a different light to someone else. Information you found to be personal, can be used publicly against you. Parts of you, you find to be your best, can be your worst to another. Is it all that safe to risk that balance in life? To risk it on something as important, but also, not as important as Facebook?

I know I'm over thinking this. But when have I ever said I don't do that? I guess this whole blog still boils down to: To Facebook or not to Facebook. I think I will. It takes risks in life to get what you want. If you've read my past blogs on doing so, you'll understand that even though my risks are well thought out and somewhat choreographed, they are still risks. And I'll be taking one today. So, I ask you this, Have you Facebooked today?

Only Prettier. . . .

I started a conversation with a political junkie today. I spoke to him about my political views and ways of voting in pursuit of his opinion as to what party I could be classified as. He said I most likely was a Libertarian. I've researched that party and feel I am not completely a Libertarian.

So I ask you this: Does anyone ever completely agree with their associated political party? In my family we have right wing and left wing conversations. Plus, government has never been my strong suit and I find Nov. to be one of the most stressful months of the year. With everyone hammering their opinion down your throat and so many people not taking the opportunity to vote, how does one actually get their political view to make a difference? Does it really boil down to just a touch of your finger every two years or so? Or is there so much more to it than that?

I am not one for confrontation. I find comfort in the respect of other's liberties. Though I do feel government plays a strong hand in our nations survival. Where does one find the balance in politics, does one ever? I'd love to hear back from all of you.

*DING* Fries are Done. . . .

So I had a friend ask me what I was going to do for Thanksgiving. I told him I was going to eat carbs and sleep. He laughed and said, "No, seriously?" I replied with a bit of a chuckle, but went on to tell him how I was planning on doing just that. And boy did I!

Let's start with breakfast:

6 mini pumpkin chocolate chip cookies

1 Diet Coke

1 Dr. Pepper -We ran out of Diet Coke, so it held me over till the others got cold.

Lunch:

1 Diet Coke

Before Dinner:

My home-made cheeseball with Ritz crackers. (Amount, unknown)

My veggies and home-made dip. (Again, amount, unknown)

1 Diet Coke

Oh, and one nibble of dark turkey meat.

Dinner:

2 pieces of dark turkey meat because the white is the dry meat and who wants to eat that??

1 large scoop of mashed potatoes

1 large scoop of stuffing from the bird, not the other less tasty stuff

All smothered in an unknown amount of gravy

1 of my mom's Parker House rolls

Some of my dad's sweet potatoes

1 large scoop of my sister's fruit salad

1 serving of my aunt's Jell-O thingy

And a nice scoop of buttery corn

2nds:

A little bit of turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and gravy

1 more roll with butter this time

1 Diet Coke (Which got dumped before I finished it!)

Dessert:

1 Thin slice of pumpkin cheesecake

1 Thin slice of Caramel Pecan Supreme from Village Inn

1 Hazelnut cyenne pepper brownie

1 Diet Coke

The Aftermath:

I'm not going to lie, even after all that, I still ate a few olives as I was cleaning up.

Once the kids were in pj's and in front of a movie with my mom, I went off to play Rock Band with a friend. By that time I was closed for business, not even a drink. Until I got home at 11 pm and decided to watch the rest of the movie I started earlier with one last Diet Coke and one more piece of pumpkin cheesecake. By midnight, I was one satisfied camper.

I sure hope all of you got to spend the holiday the way you wanted to and reflected on the things you were thankful for.

Broken Hearts Like Mine. . . .

It snowed this morning. It snowed almost twelve inches of that heavy, wet, gorgeous, stick to everything snow. It took down tree limbs and power lines and I awoke to a cold, dark room. After a lovely powerless, dark, yet uplifting church meeting, I snuggled up in a few layers and put on one of my favorite Christmas CD's in honor of my old friend winter. This particular CD, Sara Mclachlin's Wintersong, struck up a conversation with my mother on how some songs are timeless and some are tender but not all songs are made for listening only at Christmas time. Two of those songs are my all time favorites, River by Joni Mitchell and In the Bleak Midwinter with original poem by English poet, Christina Rossetti . I listen to these and many other songs, all year long because they bring a sense of tenderness and reflection that should be visited at more times than just Christmas.

I said to my mother, "These are really good songs, because some people are just not happy at Christmas." Our conversation went into depth on this tangent and got me thinking. There have been many Christmases where I didn't even want to put up the tree because I hated the holiday. And even though I do not find that same distaste for the season this year, I do hate that it's coming for one reason. I am alone. Though I'm not truly alone, I do have God, and My Girls and of course the multitude of loved ones surrounding me. What I do not have, is what I truly desire, a companion to share this all with. And just like we all notice the one dirty spot on our otherwise pristine white shirt, I notice this all too much.

However sad my life may seem to me, especially when I go to many adult only functions alone, I do know that there are many who's aches this time of year are just as real to them. This time of year seems to bring, along with it's twinkle lights and price tags, a longing for better times. Times gone by, times yet to come, and times that seem a world away. I know that I will be happy for Christmas to come one day, and pray for those who feel the same way. But for now I will choke up when my youngest talks about us one day being a whole family. Or when I see young love and older love walking hand in hand. Or when I hold the babies of those I am most envious of.

Most of my blogs lately have been seemingly depressing, even to me. So with this one, I simply felt this was a notion in life, that needed to be said. I don't have a miracle answer to give in reference to the aid needed by those who hurt. I wish I did. I only hope that it gets you thinking. People are sad, people are hurting, people are in need of us standing up for what is right and bringing them the light of Christ. My heart aches, not only for myself, but for the knowledge that there are too many souls out in this world who feel the heaviness of life. Too many who are not recovering. I urge you to contemplate this plight not only at Christmas, but all year long too. Share the love that you feel for this season, with those around you who are weighed down with the dark, wet, heavy, stick to your spirit troubles. Don't let it take them down to a breaking point where there is no warmth and no light. I pray for this, with all of my heart, that we burden one another and share the healing love of Christ.

I hope that you enjoy your winter season and I look forward to the days when we all can sing.

Loser. . . .

I'm having bloggers-block! Has anyone ever experienced this? I have so many blogs I've started, but can't seem to finish them. Hmmmm. I am perplexed. Perhaps I am not to blog today. However, I miss the clarity most of my posts give me. Right now, my mind is a jumble of thoughts. Once my puzzle of creativity and expression forms, you all know I'll be blogging about it.

You Can't Always Get What You Want. . . .

So I've come to a conclusion. It's one that for most of you, is most likely common knowledge. But for me, not so much.

For most of my life, I would say that I'm an enthusiastic type person. Once an idea or task comes to mind, I tackle it with a diligent and somewhat stubborn behavior, and do not stop until I have success. This attitude has brought me great victory and tragic defeat.

One of my more recent defeats is my dating life. There has been so many instances were I think things would work out for me, and they have not. Most with absolutely no explanation as to why not. At one time in my life I felt like nothing I did mattered. It did not matter how hard I worked, or how much I sacrificed, or even how much I prayed because nothing would work out without an equal force from my husband. I was angry at this notion. One divorce later, I find myself facing that same way of thinking in the dating world. That it doesn't matter how cute I am, or how much weight I've lost, or how much I put myself out there, nothing is going to happen until a man comes along and decides to choose me. This helpless feeling can sometimes destroy what would be a rather pleasing day. So in my recent defense against the plague of my dateless nights, I decided to not read into anything any man did or said to me. Ultimately lowering any and all expectations as to not get hurt. Almost numbing my senses to the matter. I figured it was working until something dawned on me, something brought to my attention by a dear friend. Nothing has worked out because nothing has meant to yet.

I now look back at all the men I've dated and feel like I've dodged an array of colorful bullets. All, at the time, seeming to be wonderful and an answer to my prayers, are now painted in a very unflattering light to some degree. How thankful I am for the fact that nothing has worked out yet. Sure, sure, my impatient nature is not easily amused by the long awaited arrival of my Alan Rickman look-a-like. (He is so dreamy to me. Gotta love Sense and Sensibility.) But, patience I can handle. Another poor relationship, I can't. So for all you ladies (and gentlemen) who are waiting for your better half to come along, all of you who sit and wonder why he never called you back, or never asked you out in the first place, all of you who are so ready for a relationship you could bottle and sell your anticipation on eBay for a butt load, join me in this realization and praise the powers that be. We are all in God's glorious hands. He's not going to let us down. He's a smart man, and knows what is best for us. Sure I could've said yes to any of the men who recently wanted to marry me, but I chose not to. There are worse things than being single. Trusting in God's plan, is not one of them. Forcing it to be something it's not meant to be, is.

So I ask you this, Have you had something not work out for you yet today?

The Only Girl in the World. . . .

So the verdict is in, I can't even buy a date.

There is no Pretty Woman story in my dating history. Nor do I believe there will be in the future, no matter how red my dress is or how pretty I think or feel I am. I had recently secured a date for a formal function. I paid for the tickets, even picked him up and drove to the event. I was so looking forward to this excuse to go out and have a good time. I had bought a formal red dress, exercised and dieted my butt off, and spent almost $100 in pedicures, manicures, waxings and accessories for the night. That being said, I was not looking for anything other than an evening out. A simple date. Earlier in the month, this gentleman caught some sort of wind that I may or may not be looking for more. Even though I would not bark at that concept, I was in no way expecting that. But as a result of this false wind, he was visibly nervous and even seemed panicked around me. I did what I could to put his mind at ease without totally cancelling the evening. As a result I chose to say something to the effect, with him in direct ear shot, that it wasn't a date. That he was simply him, my friend. It was successful! He was back as my friend again and no longer flinched at the mere touch of my elbow. However, I unknowingly killed two birds with one stone. The positive side was that my friend was back and the evening was no longer going to be awkward. The negative side was that I shot myself in the foot and seemingly ruined my idea of a night out.

I foresaw this evening as problematic. As the day approached, I was excited for everything that was going to happen at this special event, but also very apprehensive towards my "date" portion of the evening. Still I trucked on and if I do say so myself, looked absolutely stellar! With my new weight loss, I believe I have never looked so beautiful in my whole life. I began to imagine how it would be to walk into the ballroom with my dashing date on my arm and all eyes upon me. (It was somewhat Cinderella-esc.) Unfortunately, it was nothing of the sort. Upon arrival it was clear that because I was to perform as part of the evening's events, I needed to leave my date and help prepare for the already behind schedule festivities. Once I was able to greet my date before dinner, I found it difficult to even stand next to him. Not for lack of trying, but more that he kept himself out of range in a crowded room. "No matter" I kept telling myself, it's the beginning of the evening and he's socializing with friends. After all, he is a gentleman and I did chose him out of many male friends to accompany me because of that.

The dining hall opened and dinner was served. Our large group made their way to the assigned table where I sat down in my designated chair for my performance. Unfortunately, my date chose not to sit next to me. (I have no idea why.) He sat two chairs over from me. However a dear friend of mine did sit next to me, and he and I had a delightful conversation. Basically the one I had planned on having with my date. The evening was over and as I was gathering my many things, my date was no where to be found. My dear friend however, stood by my side, helping me with my bag, somewhat compensating for the absence of my "date". I was hurt. An all too familiar pain.

At the end of the evening as I dropped of my date, he shot a hasty, "Oh thanks for the invite." as he was shutting the car door. I don't think we touched the entire night. This was the worst date I have ever been on. It would've been better to simply brave the evening alone.

I don't write this to bash my date. He is my friend. He doesn't read my blog and I only know of two people who do, who know who I am talking about. I write this out of frustration in hopes that it will ease my stress. There are many ways of dating, or for a better definition, in getting a date. I think I've tried them all. I've been set up on a blind dates, referred by friends, tried the online scene, flirted my way through an endless sea of inapt men, asked men out, waited for them to ask me out, told them I'd say yes if they did, gone to dances, gone to bars, played the dominant woman, played the helpless maiden, ignored men, gave them my full attention and most recently, I have asked out a friend as a favor, paying the whole way, and still coming up short.

I am at a loss as to what is going wrong. Most people I go to, to find counsel on the subject, have no answer for me. Then there are those who try and cheer me up by giving me the whole, "It will happen for you" speech. Today I had two different people refer me to the book, He's Just Not That in to You. It sort of stings. I also had one tell me how marriage is over rated and how I should enjoy my single life because there is no one to answer to. None of this advice is a consolation for how I feel. In fact, I'm finding it insulting on some levels. This last "date" was not the last sting my heart has experienced. One guy, I would've been willing to bet my life on, was sending me signals that he was interested. I didn't acknowledge them for a while, until another person pointed them out to me. Then I decided to open the door of possibilities and see what would happen. I thought things were moving along gradually until news of him going out with someone else came to light. I am happy for her, because she deserves to have a gem, and well, he is a gem. But now I'm left feeling jaded because I wouldn't have even let my heart go there if it wasn't for his persistence on the matter. I guess my radar of men is honing in on blips that are for someone else, much like the way a heart monitor can pick up the beating of another person's heart standing right next to you.

So I sit and wonder, most of the day, what is it about me that scares the men off? Is it me? My kids? What? Ultimately I would like a husband. I don't think I have ever hidden that notion. But I'm not asking for that from any man I've shown interest in. I am simply asking for a date. Why is that so scary to men? Is it more comfortable for men to be alone? Or is it that they all have Peter Pan complexes and would rather not be tied down? Whatever it be, I'd love some feed back. This is becoming so frustrating. I don't know where to start more improvement in myself. In the same breath, I don't want to change who I am for a guy. Speak up ladies (and gents). I have no understanding of this.

King of Anything. . . .

I'm a big movie quoter. Some quotes are widely known. For example, anything from The Princess Bride. Others are very private and only a joke to those involved. For example, "Someone ate my entire pie! I don't know how that could've happened." It's from one of my favorite movies, Never Been Kissed. I was thinking about that movie today and another very funny quote that is only funny to those involved, mainly me. It goes something like this, "I can grab a bull's balls!" In context it's from a young copy editor trying to prove that she has what it takes to be a top, front page, news reporter. That specific quote is repeated a few times throughout the movie. But basically, she comes off as someone less than qualified, is made fun of for that reason, and then follows her heart by making mistakes along the way and proving everyone wrong. -I think I just made this wonderful movie about dating turn into an after school special, which it is not. I recommend it for anyone who's looking for a light hearted romantic comedy. Also for anyone who feels like it's just easier to brush off the pain of defeat than anything else because you are so use to defeat.

You might ask where I am going with these ramblings? Well, I'll tell you. I myself can grab a bull's balls. In the previous, nameless blog, . . . . I wrote something about myself that stuck with me most of the day. I said, "Everything else in my life I attack and accomplish." It's very true, I'm an Aries and therefore I am stubborn, opinionated, and determined. I love a good challenge, but that's only foreplay in comparison to a challenge under pressure. I'm not feeling the pressure of my dating life by any means. If anything I'm still in the assessment phase trying to figure out my next move. So today, I wondered, why is it that in my dating life I have yet to find my balls? Could it be because I am fishing in the most picky pool next to athletes and actors? (Mormon men that is.) A friend of mine thinks that it's because I am too picky. I think he just wants me to start kissing someone so he doesn't have to hear about how much it sucks that I'm not. Another friend talked to me about how there are no absolutes in dating. Not that he was speaking specifically about me, but that sometimes the risk is just too great and sometimes you get tired of falling. Whatever the obstacle be, it's keeping me from my bull.

If you haven't noticed, I'm quite the analytical person. I don't make moves quickly. They have usually been thought out eons in advance, second guessed, re-arranged, swapped out, taken on and off the shelf, and usually allowed to be dictated by another's opinion. But lately, I have begun to feel the steel grip of courage between my fingers. It will take me lots of practice to twirl those balls in my fingers like David Bowie in Labyrinth, but I intend to learn. A dear friend told me today that any guy who knows me knows that I "attack and accomplish" everything in my life. So if I "attack and accomplish" him, he would know that it's the real me doing the work and most likely find it attractive. I'm liking this logic so much more than any sort of wait and be asked out approach. Please don't get me wrong, I DO NOT want to "attack and accomplish" a guy overnight and wake up in my marriage bed the next morning. Nor do I want to attack and attack and attack until I finally accomplish. I'm merely speaking with a decent date in mind. Natural rhythm and timing ultimately considered.

I guess where I'm gong with this is simple, I can grab a bull's balls. I'm going to go after what I want. I can play the part and be honest braving all those chances of failure but knowing in the end, I did it as myself. I want a guy to fall in love with me. Not the me that plays the games of dating, but ME. I'm quite the catch, and if I plan on being hooked, I'm not going to leave any part of me drowning in the water.

So I ask you this, Have you grabbed a bull's balls today? ;)

. . . .

I am feeling defeated. It's the reason there's no song title on this post. I couldn't think of one. I'm lost, and feeling more like it's a permanent state of being rather than a simple backwards turn on Mapquest. I know that any sort of action I take will be fueled by emotions less flattering than my true self, so I chose to practice my "patience". But what am I waiting for? I have no clue. I think I'm waiting for someone to love me. Someone more than my kids. But is waiting the answer?
Everything else in my life I attack and accomplish. I feel I lead a truly fulfilling life. That everything I have I have been blessed with and am so grateful for. It's the one thing I lack that I'm having a hard time finding the blessing in. I don't believe I'm being too picky. I simply feel that I have been given a second chance at this and I'm not going to screw it up. There are worse things than being single. However, it doesn't discredit the pain I feel for being such. I'm not desperate, or in a hurry, or panicked, or anything like that. (At least I don't think so.) I am smart, intelligent, pretty, stylish, compassionate, supportive, loving, funny, sweet, gentle, blunt, curvy, full of energy, thoughtful, and feeling a real need to share all of this and more with someone else.

As I Have Loved You. . . .

I didn't really think I would jump on this band wagon, but I am.

A couple of days ago I received a letter from my dear cousin who lives in California. It was a heart felt letter trusting me, and other members of my extended family, with the truth that she is bisexual. As I read her words, believing that this printed letter was not her first draft, I was honored by her courage and deeply felt the love she put into each word as she described her journey and the reasoning behind her decision to let everyone in on this personal part of her world. When her last word was read, my heart spilled over with the love I felt for her. I couldn't wait to reply with a personal letter of my own supporting her right to live her life unharnessed and unashamed.

As I began to share my excitement and support for my dear cousin with a member of my family, my pure love bubble was quickly popped by the harsh judgment and negative words my cousin was trying to avoid by writing such a letter. There was no way I could tame the anger and internalized offense this member of my family had for my cousin and the letter she had written. Feeling defeated and somewhat personally offended by the absolute loveless take this person had on the subject, I ran to a sweet friend, venting my frustrations and crying for the pain I knew he must have felt when he chose to be truthful about himself to friends and family. -A little back story on him, when he was honest to his parents about himself and his homosexuality, he was kicked out of his home and found sleeping at the park. When he told me this, before I could even collect my thoughts I had invited him to live with me in a spare room until he was on his feet. I barely knew him at the time, but could not imagine what he was going through being alone and facing such rejection.

My sweet friend was supportive and understood my pain, which only reinforced my firm belief that Love is the only way to live your life. As a very strong LDS member, I have battled with the idea of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community and the perception of it. I firmly believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ and his teachings, therefore I do everything in my power to love all those I meet. If I take away anything in this life, I pray that I take with me the pure love of Christ. I cannot fathom the pain and confusion so many people face in this life without the outside forces that add to the demise of a spirit so loved by God.

I cannot shield my cousin from this type of judgment. I believe she's a stronger individual than I and is more prepared to combat what is no doubt heading her way. The only thing I can do is support and love her. Because of my belief in my religion, I chose for myself to follow it's teachings and principles on the subject. I am not gay. It's just who I am. I did not choose this. I have no personal reference therefore feel completely unqualified on the subject. But I have sinned. I have felt the torment of choices and the outside forces involved. I still carry scars that periodically erupt and remind me of one eternal truth. God Loves us all! I have felt his love for me, when I knew what I had done was beyond rational forgiveness. I knew that I would be exiled from friends and family if it came to light. The absolute fear of that rejection set me in front of bottle of pills and one last cry for help. I apologize for comparing one's lifestyle to my own "sin" but I pray you look past that and see the parallels that follow. I would have rather left this world, than face what others thought of me. I would have rather left this world than face the hatred and rejection from those who were to love me most. So I can relate to the pain that so many young people feel when they decide to take their lives over being gay. I urge you all to lead your life with Love, not only in the LGBT subject, but in all aspects of your life. Christ sacrificed his life for everyone. I believe that entitles everyone to the Love of Christ. We are all set on this earth with the Lord knowing full well what is in store for us and what we are capable of. I am humbled daily for His continual atonement and am in awe of the sheer power of His Love. I pray that those of you reading this will take a moment to find that Love within yourself and then share it with those around you, furthering the light and hope that everyone on this earth is a child of God.

The Way We Were. . . .

The last guy I dated was a fantastic guy. A bit nerdy, but all the same a quality guy. At the time, I wasn't ready to become serious with him because something just didn't feel right. So I let him go. The next week he tells me he's exclusive with another girl he was dating while he was dating me. (I had no idea of her existence. And if I did, I definitely would not have kissed him the way I did.) None the less, I moved on and have not dated anyone since. That was eight months ago.

Tonight I was browsing my facebook and clicked on a comment he had made months before. It took me to his page and I read that he was now married to this woman he was dating. I'm happy for him. Honestly. So I sit and wonder as I fight back the tears, Why does this hurt so much? This is now the second ex with similar news that stings me deeply. I guess I figured that I was not going to have as hard of a time dating as I am experiencing now. I went on two dates this summer and neither one called me again. I seem to give off some repellent vibe. When I honestly would love to go out and have a wonderful time.

Anyhow, I'm asking for some advice. Why does it hurt so much to see past loves move on?

I really don't have an answer and am so looking for help because if one more guy I've dated comes up to me and tells me he's getting married, I'm afraid I'll lose it.

What If. . . .

So I've decided that since my last post about being positive, the one I posted, oh, about five hours ago, has come around to bite me in the positive behind. When my kids leave to go with their dad for any amount of time, I try my hardest to fill my days with activities as to not dive into the deep end of the lonely pool. Today I failed at that. I tried to make lunch dates, movie dates, any sort of date, tried to make a to-do list, went shopping, drove around, texted people trying to make conversation, anything that would keep my mind from wondering and landing on the realization of how lonely I really feel. But it seemed that no matter what I did today, I was waved into the grey station of Alone-and-Nothing-to-do-ville. Now, not to drum on the negative, but would you like to hear about my perpetual cherry on top problem? I thought you would. . . .

About two months ago, I was perfectly happy fixating my infatuations upon an unbeknownst gentleman until another gentleman kept giving me signals that would distract me from my happy little course. I ignored them for about a month until I could no longer distract myself from his camouflaged feelings. (Or at least I thought they were feelings.) Without going into too much detail, a couple outside sources confirmed what I was perceiving to be more than just friendly feelings and now, I can't sleep!! So not only do I not have my kids as a distraction until Sunday, I now am feeling extra lonely because of some beau who probably wasn't sending signals my way in the first place. OH I AM SUCH A WOMAN!

Curses be the person who invented the idea that the men need to ask out the women!! Is anyone with me on this one? Or am I alone in this too?

I've Loved These Days. . . .

Have you ever had something bother you? Have it bother you so much that you can't stop thinking about it? Then you soon find yourself tensing up because it upsets you so much that all you want to do is. . . is. . . something! Because you are so angry! I have a cure for that.

I have a friend who has become part of my heart. Her and I talk all the time. Her wisdom has sculpted my spirit into something I deem to be better than it ever was. Each month I basically have new challenges set before me. Challenges that are just that, challenging. Some of them are very difficult for me to master, but I try because I see how much better a person I can be because of them. My most recent challenge, was to be positive. No matter what. -A little back story on me: I am a Pessimist, a Perfectionist, a Co-Dependant Being, I am a performer always looking to be better at her craft, I set up a blog for crying out loud, asking people to critique me and tell me what I am doing wrong. So being Positive, does not come naturally. However I do feel I can take my training wheels off at this point, I've been practicing and consciously correcting myself when I start to fall into my negative patterns. I do have a long ways to go before I can BMX my way through life, but I'm at least balancing on two wheels.

I used to be, and can still tend to be, one who holds on to something emotional. I find it oddly comforting to dwell in the negative world. Feels like comfort to me because of the lack of expectation. (Expectation is another whole blog in and of itself! Perhaps another time.) But when I see it in other people, it forces me to check my dirty hands and wonder, "Is that what I look and sound like?"

Being negative is what comes naturally because we are in a natural state. We are the natural man. However, I don't plan on staying here for long. My goals are to move onward and literally upward. And being positive, is an upward motion. Being positive is of God. Now I can go on forever about how, to me, God is love. God is nothing else. God is not negative in any way. Everything he does is of love. Even when it seems He is punishing us, He is in fact loving us and creating a way for us to return to Him. So if He is who we aspire to be, don't you think being positive is the way to go?

I recently experienced, what I imaginatively viewed to be a train wreck. Words and negative emotions overcame a situation that I viewed to be under control and ended up hurting feelings, and possibly damaging bridges. I will take responsibility in that I didn't get the correct information out in time. But that being granted, the situation still spun out of control and I found myself ready to explode! I had to stop and internalize the situation before I proceeded. A few negatively laced texts slipped out before my grip was successfully tightened and for that I am sorry. The long run has yet to appear, but I do hope it will turn out to have a positive ending.

Being positive is hard. I will be the first to admit that. But being positive is the best way to go. Since my challenge of being positive, I have numerously stopped myself after blowing my negative horn and apologizing to the offended. However, there has been many times where another blows their negative horn at me, and I patiently wait for them to finish but instead of blowing mine back. I would instate the old saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." And WOW! what a difference it has made in my life.

I hope this doesn't come off as me standing on my soap box, but more like I have a companion at my side and we are knocking on your door with a message. The message is this: Be Positive! It will take you far, make your hind sight a comforting one seeing that you didn't do or say something you could regret, draw people towards you because of the positive energy oozing out your pores, and lower your stress level tremendously. I don't have all the answers, nor claim to. I just love the idea of no one getting to me. I love the idea of having a level head and a loving heart and wanted to share that feeling with you. I will never be a 100% positive person. But I will try.

So I ask you this, Have you been positive today?

Sheer Poetry

I've decided, after being inspired by another blogger friend of mine, to start a poetry blog. I've been writing poetry for almost three years now and figure this would be the best way to get it out there and improve upon the skills I already have. So for anyone who would like to read it, send me your email or contact me and I'll formally invite you to view my blog.

Buses and Trains. . . .

1.39.44

6.2 miles

Last to start, last to finish.

I held my own the entire run, constantly forcing one foot in front of the other. I mistakenly sat and waited with the wrong group of women. When I realized it, my 10k group had left five minutes earlier. (That meant some were already a mile ahead of me.) Ugh! I know I'm slow, but now it's going to be ridiculously obvious my big old legs can only trot at a brisk walking pace. But I didn't care. It was chip timed, meaning I was only in a race with myself. My time didn't start until my foot crossed the starting line, and it wouldn't end until it was drug across the finish line. However, I did pass four ladies along the way, so I wasn't technically last. It just sounds better when I write it that way instead of, Last to start, 689th to finish.

I actually enjoyed running by myself. It was rather peaceful as I pounded my way through the gardens at Thanksgiving Point. I was able to reflect as I continually was directed around seemingly endless bends and pass numerous man-made waterfalls. Eventually I made it to the home stretch. I could see it. I eagerly passed the 5k walkers along the way as I burped up the not too pleasant taste of my energy gummies. My body was tired. I had pushed it beyond any bounds it had crossed before. That last and final 50 yards up hill just about drained all of the energy I had left until I turned the corner and saw the finish line. It was feet in front of me. I began to run faster, and it seemed that the faster I ran, the quicker I began to cry. You could hear families cheering on their runners as they crossed. It was so great to FINALLY cross the finish line. Yet so sad because I didn't have anyone to share this victory with.

As much as I come off being strong and independent, I still long for someone to cheer me on. And I know that it sure seems like every blog I do ends up on the subject of dating. For that I apologize, but it's my reality right now. I am so happy with my life. I NEVER in any of my wildest dreams thought I'd be doing this. I've always been a slow runner, even since childhood when I could do it better. I always lost the race, was always tagged out, and always stuck in the mud. But not anymore. Something that I always tell myself is, Give me enough time, and I'll get it done. It's true for any character I play on stage, for the miles I place behind my on a run, and for the track record I seem to have in dating. Eventually I'll get it done. I may have moments where I sprint forward in excitement or ones where I'm too exhausted to keep going. I may have to stop and take a breather, adjust something that's not fitting quite right, or refuel for the hill ahead. Whatever obstacles are on my path, given enough time, I'll get them done. I'll put them behind me. I'll finish the race.

I look forward to the days when I'm strong enough to not finish last. Just as I look forward to the days when there will be someone cheering my on as I finish the race. Until that day, I ask for enough time. Enough time to train, to practice, and enough time to be patient before those moments come along.

31 years 6 months 5 days

Many roads, many trials, many more

Started when the Lord wanted me to start, Pretty sure he'll let me finish.

Stand by Your Man. . . .

So I just had another mind blowing epiphany while cleaning up my scattered brain matter off the bedroom wall from my previous mind blowing epiphany. I realized that I shouldn't be worried about the whole "Need" thing I blogged about earlier because of this simple truth I will forever stand by: Women like me, who seemingly have it all together, who balance life so well, who may or may not give off the vibe that a man is not needed in their life due to lack of room, necessity, or what have you, only prove that we will treat our man better than anyone else because we fill our life with priorities, and for me, a man is at the top of the list!

'Nuff said.

Help. . . .

I had an epiphany today. Even though I am continually thrown by the lessons I learn in life, today was a particularly mind blowing one.

My new boss and I have way too much in common for us to not be related. I swear we were dropped from the same tree, just five years apart. So today we got into one of our many personal conversations about my life and my now dating life. (Or lack there of.) I was telling her how I feel like men seem to be afraid of me and how I seem to scare them off before they are even fully interested. I expressed to her how frustrating it is because I feel I'm a good catch. I feel like what I have to offer is quality goods and no one even takes the chance to try them out.

She gave me this advice: She told me a story about when she had decided to finally find someone, a friend of hers who ran the psych ward at LDS Hospital, gave her some advice. Her friend told her that when the guy comes to pick her up, that she needed to have something "out" in her home. Meaning something needed to look out of place or a mess. Whether it's a pile of papers or books or whatever it be, it need to look out of place. -Now like my boss, I could not fathom the idea of not having my home look pristine for company. And like my boss, I would spend way too much time before the date getting it all to look that way, from the weeds in the yard, to the grass being trimmed, to the spider webs around the front door, to the carpet tracks in the living room carpet and the toilet paper being folded into a triangle in the small chance my date needed to pee before we left all causing me to possibly be late getting ready for the date. Now I laughed because this is me. My boss was describing me to a "T" as she told this story. In my mind I kept thinking, "Why would anyone not have their house in perfect order for a date? First impressions are a must!" Then when she told me the reasoning, I almost began to cry.

Her psych ward friend told her that when men see your life in perfect order, it gives them the impression that you are not "in need" of them. That you can handle your life so well there is no place for anyone in it. I just about died when she said this because of two things. #1 Since way before my divorce, I came to the conclusion that I was tired of asking for help from my then husband and not getting it. So I adopted the mentality that I could do it on my own. And I did. Then once the divorce happened, I really took that thinking by the horns and began to plow through my life. I have to say to myself every day, "I can do this on my own." because I am on my own. It's a sort of empowering statement for me so I don't fall into the negative thinking that so easily comes with being alone -alone with three kids. Plus if I don't believe that I can do it on my own and then never marry again, what sort of "failure" does that produce? In my mind, a monumental, life portraying one. Because at the very least I could say, Hey, I did it on my own. #2 I want a companion. I ultimately want a husband and to take care of him the rest of my life. I want a husband who I can share everything about me with. I not only want one, but I need one. I feel less than my potential without one. Of course I cannot just up and get a husband. I have to go down the line of steps from fiance, to boyfriend, to dating, to first date, to friends and start at the basic square one. So once again I find myself between a rock and a dateless Friday night.

After this epiphanal moment I headed home and let the previous conversation churn like mud in my mind. What was I to do? I like that I have a handle on most of the things in my life. Would a guy really come in and "save" me? Or do I really need a guy to survive my existence on this earth? Then, how do I, if I chose to leave something "out", send out the positive vibe of needing a guy as apposed to the dreaded desperate vibe??? Needless to say my over-analytical mind has yet to pause for a breath and I exhale in the form of a blog.

I guess I have come to this conclusion. Just as most men need to feel "needed" in a relationship, so do I. I need someone to need the feeling of my fingers through their hair. I need someone to need the warmth of my body next to theirs. I need someone to need the taste of my lips to linger in their thoughts. I need someone to need and want to have children with me. I need someone to need me at their side as we walk into the House of the Lord together. I need him to need all of this and more because I need all of this and more from him. I don't know if I will ever marry again. I definitely have hope I will, especially when a guy looks at me and makes my heart stop and I'm too scared to let him know and then end up scaring him off before there was even a chance. I want to attract a man. A good man. I want him to see how needed he is and how much I would adore him.

I can't really end this blog the way I'd like to. Mainly because I have yet to end my topic of struggle. So now I'm leaving it up to you. I need some help, some feedback. Please share your experiences with me. I'm so ready for a relationship, I just don't know how to go about finding it.

Faithfully. . . .

I was introducing the new TV show, Glee, to my jock brother a while back and I'm not sure if he saw something in me in the way I was watching it, or if he felt a forgotten emotion that triggered a slightly out of character question. He asked me that if when I watch Glee, do I miss singing? Does it make me want to sing and dance and be a part of that time in my life again? Now, my younger, yet bigger brother and I do not have much in common, so I had a glimmer of connection with him when I answered a passionate YES! Then he responded by saying, that is what Friday Night Lights, a high school football TV show, does to me. My heart broke for him for a moment because I know how much it hurts my brother to not be playing football due to an injury he suffered in high school. And now freshly out of a double knee surgery, he has sealed his "benched" fate.

This propelled the inner workings of my mind to ponder a fate such as his own. "What if I could no longer do what my heart exists for?"

I do recall a time when I did not perform on the stage. I was married with two kids and doing the mundane tasks of life until I by chance bought a newspaper while getting the daily mail. Opening to the arts section, as I always did first, I came upon the new theatre season announcements for all the local community theatres in town. That feeling of longing for a time gone by came over me as I read each play, dreaming of the parts I would give my left arm to perform. Then it was as if time stood still long enough for me to read three compelling words, Barry Manilow's Copacabana. At the time, Barry was a passionate love affair I paraded around for all to see. So I took it as a sign from God that I should audition for this Utah premier and began preparing for my audition though it be three months away.

After auditioning and landing a prime spot in the chorus, I began to find myself again, not even knowing I was lost. I hadn't been on the stage in over five years. Life had changed so much for me since then that only those who knew me back in the day could recognize the long lost sparks that began to fire within my heart. It was those sparks that lit the path to a once dark, but now set ablaze desire of self expression and what I believe to be a true ability and talent.

Glee has not helped the situation either. Being a girl who always put her life to music and envisioned everyone around breaking into song as she sang her heart out over a daydreamer fantasy, I find myself watching it play out for fantastic characters like Kurt and Rachel only to have it compel my semi-delusional take on life further down the artistic expression road of no return. And in complete honesty, I'm thrilled with it!

Last year I performed in a role that was a physically and emotionally demanding part. Thankfully I had a director who understood the plight larger women can suffer when under the scrutiny of opinionated audience members. In a nut shell, I put my abilities as an actress in question solely based on my dress size. This director forced me, in the best way possible, to take risks. Not only risks on stage, but risks within myself. And in a larger nut shell, I ended up winning as award for that role.

I'm trying my best to keep this particular blog from becoming a metaphor for my entire life, but it appears that I'm failing. However, the blog sometimes writes itself. Something that keeps coming to mind as I try to tie this set of ramblings into a functional piece is something that I have blogged about, and then deleted, and then sort of blogged about again. (Apparently I have insufficiently purged it from my thoughts. So please forgive the repetition.) I believe there are many great things in this world that can overcome one's heart and cause it to beat to a different drum. For my brother, it's sports. He looks like a combination of Stallone and Burt Reynolds. But through that visual, I can see his heart, his passion, and the risks he took to express it. I wonder if in his mind he questions his choices. Or is battling with his newly altered reality. Whichever it is, it's surely causing a flurry of unanswered questions to spin in my mind.

I love what I do on the stage. Whether it's performing in a play, or singing in a musical, or making people laugh on my improv team, I LOVE IT! Thinking about being a part of something like that causes my heart to burn separate from my body and beg to be shared. It's probably borderline clinical. Though I do know it's genetic because I see that same desire for music/performance in my three daughters as they sing their slightly out of tune voices to the songs of Glee without a care as to whom is watching. So I guess instead of asking myself, "What if I could NO LONGER do what my heart exists for?" I should really be asking, "Have I DONE what my heart exists for?" Have I done all I am capable of doing today before tomorrow brings me an altered reality? Have I auditioned for every role I have ever dreamed of playing? Have I sung every song I play in my daydreamer fantasies? Have I opened every door I want to in life?

I can so easily transpose this blog from the dramatic arts, to dating, to even religion. All three things carrying their fair share of weight in my heart right now. Each subject demanding their own risks, or hope, or faith. Life never plays out the way you think it should. Life is not ideal. Life is not an episode of Glee. Life is possible. Life is waiting for you to take that risk and see what happens. So what if you "fail". So what if you have to flash your knickers on stage and be told you are too big to be doing that. So what if your last game of football was indeed your last game. So what if you find yourself alone at 31 with three kids. Is anything like that going to stop you? I surely hope not! You all know that feeling I've been talking about. You all have that fire for something burning within. However, I can only speak for myself and I say this, My passion for life grossly outweighs anything that has altered my reality. And for that I am truly blessed.

So I ask you this. . . . Have you answered the call of your heart today?

As Sisters in Zion. . . .

I LOVE OUR PROPHET!! During the recent General Women's Conference, I hysterically laughed, wiped away empathic, heart touching tears, and walked away so spiritually uplifted I was practically exhausted by the time I arrived home. Our Prophet spoke of sweet and personal accounts that were laced with humor and love. His infectious smile and sarcastic spirit brought me sense of peace. Peace that I had been searching for in him. I am humbled by the magnitude of this man's love for the people of this world and the true reflection of our Savior in his spirit. I had not gained a full testimony of our current prophet until that moment. And now words cannot express the emotions running through my veins that I carry for this man. This man that proves to me how life is to be lived. I pray from this day forward that I may aspire to his example and lead my life in the service of others. And above all, have a sense of humor, everyone would be happy to partake in. He is truly a Prophet of God. And I am honored to partake in the opportunity to listen to his words.

For those who missed it, I urge you to watch it. You will not be sorry. If my link does not work, you can always search for it yourself at www.lds.org http://lds.org/video/gc/index.html?lang=eng

China. . . .

So today was dry council Sunday. Except it wasn't dry at all. I loved every minute of it. Especially the first talk. It was from an elderly woman in the Stake. She spoke on forgiveness and how if you don't forgive someone it can lead to heavy bitterness in your heart. She shared two stories, one of an associates' experience and one of a personal.

The first lead on to talk about water sharing and how one man's mistake lead to a physical argument that lead to his blindness. Then a feud ensued between the respective families and bitterness grew until it overcame the man and he murdered the offender.

The second is the one that struck me the most. It was a personal account of how as a young girl, she fell deeply in love with one man. They married and began on down the road to their happily ever after. But sadly the marriage began to fail. And since divorce was just not something done during that time, she put forth every effort to make her marriage work. But after 26 years of struggles, she decided to finally get the dreaded divorce. Ready to move on with her life, she put the past heartache and trials behind her and faced the future. After four years, she remarried but soon ran into issues that stemmed from her past marriage. The bitterness she had not faced from her previous marriage stemmed an inability to fully trust her new husband. Discovering this, she began to pray. She prayed for the ability to forgive her ex-husband, and herself, for all the mistakes and choices that lead to the divorce. After many moments spent on her knees, she was finally able to completely forgive, but of course only through the power of Christ was that made possible.

During church, I was enthralled. Completely engaged in this woman's story and testimony. A recent blog that is now deleted kept running through my mind. I had blogged about the biggest risk I have ever taken in life. That risk was my divorce. In the beginning, I was madly in love with my then boyfriend. I knew the moment I saw him for our first date, through the window of my parents' living room that he was the one I was going to marry. I was so happy. I'd found him. A fear that stemmed from early childhood that I'd never marry was finally disappearing. We were soon engaged, and then soon married. Bliss is all I could feel. Unfortunately quickly after the marriage, things began to fade. Or for a better term, fall. I felt like instead of moving onward and upward, we began to slip and fall. Not only down, but away from each other. The soon to be birth of our first daughter kept things going at full steam. But with that new responsibility came new struggles and a bigger gap between us.

When our daughter turned two I had finally had enough. I was ready to leave. I was still young and could make it on my own. And at the time, to my great upset, the Lord would not let me leave. So I stayed and from that day forward, I had decided to give my marriage every chance possible. I dove right back in and braved the troubled waters. Great trials for me continued. Financial, personal, and religious stumbling blocks were seemingly never ending. I tried to smile through all of this, but even I'm not that good. So I decided to seek out the aid of a personal councilor. I saw her once a week for nearly a year. And I basically came to the conclusion that the closer I drew to the Lord the further away I ended up from my then husband. For a while I played the balancing act between being close to God and being close to my husband. Both taxing choices with great consequences. I played this game for years, until the birth of our third and last daughter.

It had been decided that she would be our last, and like my mother, if a cesarean was needed, we'd have my tubes tied in the same procedure. Well four weeks early and one breach child, brought me to the cross road of this decision. I personally wanted more children. I had always said I wanted eight kids, so three left me feeling shorted. But because it made my husband happy, I agreed. There weren't many times when he was happy because of me. There I lie on the operating table and because of the chaos of the situation I'd forgotten to inform the doctor of our decision. So once, my sweet baby was born I remembered and went to tell him. But the words would not come. And it was almost as if my voice was held still and a frightening "NO!" echoed in my ears. Slightly in shock of what I had just been a part of, I waited quietly for the doctors to stitch my once large belly back to a less than attractive state.

After bringing my daughter home, and getting life back to normal, that voice remained in my mind. And to add to my stress it was not alone. There is a line in my patriarchal blessing, one that I will not share for it is of great personal meaning, that specifically talked about my to-be husband. At first, I believed it was talking about the man I indeed married. But as time went by it sunk in deep that it was not. The absolute heartache and turmoil I began to suffer is indescribable. "How can divorce be an option? We were married in the temple. How do I know if I have done everything possible to save my marriage? I cannot face God at judgment and find that I didn't do all I could to keep this family together." Me being haunted by these questions is a grave understatement. But that once inability to leave had vanished. It was as if the Lord had place two hands upon my shoulders keeping me in place, unable to run and suddenly let go.

For ten years I prayed. For ten years I pleaded and pondered and sacrificed in search of peace. I never in any of those prayers expected my answer to come like this. I didn't want a divorce. I wanted my celestial family back. But I knew it wasn't going to be possible. So once the subject had been posed, it was if overnight he was gone.

Relating back to this sister's talk in sacrament meeting today, I realized that I had let bitterness live in my heart about my ex-husband. Bitterness that I had tried so hard to not let live, existed whether I liked it or not. I hate to admit this, but I immediately began to text my ex right in the middle of the meeting. The last text I had sent him came off mean. And even though I didn't completely intend it to be so, at the time was glad it had those undertones. I apologized profusely for my two sharp words. I know he feels terrible about the divorce and the bad years of our marriage. I didn't need to punish him any further.

For those of you who know me personally, know that I struggle with my choice of divorce. There isn't an easy day on my plate right now. Some days are less bitter to the taste than others, but are no less difficult to swallow. I took a huge risk in leaving my husband. A risk for something better. And I can't be angry at him for that. I am excited for all the chances I have to be truly happy again. If anything I should thank him for the amazing way we are now. I say, and will continue to say, "If I had to be divorced from anyone, I'm glad to be divorced from him." ~I hope that comes off as the compliment it is intended to be.

This has been a topic that has needed to be expressed for some time now. A couple failed attempts here and there have finally brought me to this blog. And I thank those of you who read this never ending expression of my life. Perhaps this gives you better insight into my life and how I can be sometimes. Or better yet, inspires you to forgive.

So I guess I ask you this, Have you forgiven someone today?

OH. . . HEIDI-DIDY-DIDY-DIDY-DIDY-DIDY-DI!

Have you ever heard of the term, Drink and Dial? It's where someone drinks themselves into a stupor and decides to call up old flames or who have you and chat with them at early morning hours into thinking they are really grateful they exited your life when they did. Now I don't drink, but I do blog. And last night I did something I affectionately like to call, Boob and Blog. Yup, I was crying and I blogged about it. :'(

So my last entry has now been deleted. For those of you who took the time to read it, please don't judge a moment of weakness as true character. And for those who missed out on the spectacle, consider yourselves lucky!

So for now, the afterglow of a codependent evening has passed me by and the haze of my reality is clear as crystal.

Has anyone else ever had those moments where you are embarrassed by your recent behavior, but at the time felt it was your world? or am I the only one? I surely hope not. However the verdict is brought down, I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat my humorous choices in life. And I say HUMOROUS boldly!! (Get it? It's in BOLD type. Ya, I'm here 'till Thursday.) I have to laugh at myself in life. I laugh at every part of my personality. My TMI family behavior instilled in me since birth. The ability I have to intimidate people into thinking I'm a cruel person without even knowing it. How I can't hold a straight face to save my life. And how my emotions run deep and strong, but break the surface easier than an overfilled water balloon. Any way you want to paint it, I still end up with egg on my face and a crowd of people laughing at me. I might as well join in on the fun.

So I ask you, have you laughed at yourself today?

Lady in Red. . . .

I don't usually voice goals because I tend to jinx myself into failure when I do. Especially when it comes to weight loss. But I'm voicing this one because I need everyone's help.

I started a diet and exercise program of my own back in May. In the 4 months, I've lost almost a complete 30 pounds. For me, being a girl who has literally tried everything she can afford both financially and physically, this is a huge deal. The last time I lost this much weight at once, I was pregnant with my youngest daughter and only able to eat for about 1 min at 3:30 in the afternoon. (Don't ask me why 3:30 pm was the time, but it was. I'd down a yogurt in one gulp and that's all I could stomach. Any more than that and it wasn't going to stay down.) So I began running and eating a protein and vegetable rich diet filled with only water to drink and practically little to no carbs. And after a small adjustment, my body took off and began to transform like crazy. Now nothing fits -in a good way. However, I've hit a plateau. And it's mainly because I've let myself become lax on my routine.

This brings me to my goal: On Saturday Oct. 23rd I'm performing in and attending a gala for the theatre I volunteer/work at. It's somewhat a formal event and I'd love to wear something that would make a date proud to be with me. Not to mention to get a few heads to turn my way. In a nutshell, I WANNA BE A KNOCKOUT! So I've set a realistic goal for myself. I'm going to lose 20 more pounds by then and get below the the big, Pass GO Collect 200lbs mark, wear a dress that I've never been able to pull off before, adorn some red lips, and arrive with a date who can't take his eyes off of me. (Not too ambitious am I?) Now this is where you come in. . . . I can get discouraged quickly and the man downstairs knows this, so I'm asking you to get on my case before he does. I'm sending out a request for you to ask me how my diet's doing and what was my last time on my running. And tell me, "For heaven's sake, put down the milk shake!" I basically need you to pull for me.

Last year at this time, I was at the lowest point I have ever reached in my existence. Since then, I have climbed mountains I never dreamed of seeing the bottom of. And I owe it all to my Heavenly Father. My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has made this transformation possible. So possible in fact that I cannot fathom the person I used to be and she haunts my dreams. I only want to go forward. I do not want to turn back and become consumed with my past. I have overcome many heart wrenching events over the past few years. And because of that fire, I have become refined. I am happier now than I have ever been in my entire life. And as vain or selfish as this may sound, I want more. I want a noble husband who can take me to the House of the Lord and hold my hands for eternity. And I feel that my body is not attracting him as quickly as I'd like. Because let's face it, Men are Visual, and I'm not much to look at right now. But in two months, I will be a vision in red. And I pray that he will finally find me and see me for all of my beauty.

I thank those of you who act upon my plea, in advance for your support. You have no idea what it will do for me. THANK YOU!

Livin' in Blue Jeans Babe. . .

Saturday Morning

7:00 am : The alarm wakes me with another Katy Perry song. A good enough song to sing to, but annoying enough for me to get out of bed and shut it off.

7:30 am: Kids are all dressed and in the car. And we're off to the sitters. My breakfast was mini wheats and fruit. My stomach too nervous to eat much of anything else.

8:00 am: I arrive at Sugar House Park and guided by a negative number of signs, I finally find where I belong. I get out of my car and find my sister in line for registration. IHC Heart Institute 5k/1 mile run. I was attempting to do the 5k.

8:25 am: We are at the starting line chatting it up.

8:30 am: My sister and I start running. And that was the last I saw of her. Her legs are about twice as fast as mine. But I can safely say, mine are twice as big.

8:35 am: Offspring is pounding in my ear I hit the first hill. Ugh!

9:21 am: I cross the finish line! My time for a 3.32 mile run was 51:50. And I'm very proud of that big number.

Monday Morning

7:30 am: Ignore both alarms.

7:45 am: Continue to ignore both alarms.

8:00 am: Drag my pathetic behind out of bed and get my girls ready for school.

8:30 am: Drop the girls off at school and start the laundry. Now my room is a mess about 95% of the time. It's the size of a walk in closet at my sister's home. However since I moved back in with my parents, all of my normal household things that would normally go in other rooms, go into my little roomcloset under the stairs. And in my laundry gathering I cam across a discarded pair of jeans I have had for about a year but could never wear because of my thunder thighs. The last time I tried them on (about a month and a half ago) I couldn't even get them up my thighs.

10:30 am: I get the nerve to try them on. And to my delightful surprise, I can get them up my thighs. . . and then over my fanny. . . and then even zip them closed. . . and the belt gets fastened. They are a perfect fit!! They fit as if God made them himself just for me!

11:10 am: I find myself not wanting to take them off. And consequently blogging about them.

Now, for those who really know me, they will testify that I am far from patient. In fact I am down right hasty. So when I had a friend advice me on how to eat and exercise, I didn't like the idea. I wanted a miracle shot to slim me down. ( I still want a boob lift and cankle surgery but that's a discussion for another time. ) I actually wanted to stay the same and have men love me for the way I was. But we all know men are visual, and I was a feast worth passing by. So I suffered for a month on my diet until it became habit. Then I suffered for months with my exercise until now it's a desire I have become addicted to. And now because of my trial of patience I have found a newer me. One in a smaller pair of blue jeans.

I will be the first to complain about how much life sucks. And I will be the first to whine when things aren't done fast enough. My Lord knows this about me. I think he even chuckles to himself every time I have one of my melodramatic melt downs. So when moments like my blue jeans come around I have to stop and remind myself that everything is a life long journey. And even my weight is a blessing given to me. It is something I am blessed to overcome. And today I overcame 1 SOLID pant size.

Now to go and buy some new jeans I can't fit into to do the process all over again.

Love Can Build a Bridge. . .

This post is directed towards, Pencil Skirt Bound.

So it's been about a month since my "Hurt" posting. And one of you asked about what I ended up doing. Well this is what happened.

I became a better friend to him.

This is how my mind worked: A while ago, in the same group of funny people, I found myself feeling like a girl in the group didn't like me. And not just didn't like me, but looking down upon me for my sense of humor. Well I stewed over it for weeks. Asking people if she gave them the same vibe, or their opinions on what options I had to relieve this new found stress. Nothing helped. And I continued to feel like I needed to censor my humor and guard what I said around her. Until one day, I was venting to my mother and she said, "What if she's intimidated by you?" It was like a light went on in my selfish brain. Here I had been thinking probably the worst of this person instead of taking the more Christlike road and looking for the better part. Needless to say at that point I felt awful. So then I began to take steps to make her a close friend of mine. It was awkward at first because there was no visible bridge in common between us, but I searched and searched. Until one day I found myself having something I hadn't really had since High School. And that was a Girlfriend. A real, go out to lunch, giggle and laugh, chat about boys, girlfriend. Now I have no idea what was the real source of tension between us at the beginning. But all I can say is, I am so glad that my Mom knocked a bit of Jesus into my heart.

Now I'm sure you smart readers can see where I'm going with this and how it pertains to my friends that "Hurt" me. Well one being an ex, I've told him straight out what happened and why I was so hurt. I trusted him to be that honest with him. But the other perpetrator and I had no such relationship. So I decided to make him a better friend. Now it did seem like each week that I worked with this individual, he did say things to me that stung pretty deep. But I kept it up, and tried to remember that he did not intend on insulting me. It's just his way of expressing himself, and my way of understanding it. And eventually things seemed to lighten up, and I began to toughen up. Until one late night, we had a deep conversation. One that I would only say could happen between two close friends. Now things aren't perfect. But who has a relationship that is?? I'm just really happy that I found a way to mend a bridge without tearing down any others. I'd rather be someone's support than someone's space they end up falling to their demise in. (A bit dramatic, I know. But hey, I am.)

So I'm so thankful for bridges I never knew could exist. And thankful for the strength I get from my true support and foundation. Sometimes when something strikes you pretty deep, it's because a new foundation is being placed there.

It's Raining Men. . .

I had someone come up to me quite seriously and ask me if everything was going okay. I replied, "ya" because I believed everything was going great for me. But they then preceded to inquire more, meaning they didn't believe me. They stated that I had seemed to be less open and more reserved than usual. I chuckled inside and began to retell the story I blogged about previously called Hurt. They understood my reservations for the evening being that I was with that same group of people. And I explained to him that I really liked these people, but now I feel I have to filter everything I say as to protect myself from another crushed ego.

So on the quiet, solo drive to our usual hot spot for food, I began to think. Surprising I know! But I thought about maybe why I was feeling so reserved around a group of people whom I consider to be my closest friends. I asked myself, "Why is it that they make me feel insecure? Especially in an environment where confidence is the currency?" My conclusion was simply this: My closest friends are 90% male and about 80% of them are single. There for, my nightmare of High School dating has followed me into adulthood.

In High School, I was basically Kurt, from Glee. For those completely unfamiliar with Glee, Kurt is a love struck, always sings back up, doesn't fit in, perpetually alone guy who never gets the man. And that's me. I always wanted to shine and have the guy I was in love with, love me back. But of course never did. And then always seemed to crave that attention from anyone who would give it to me. As confident as I may come across sometimes, I still find myself checking for the dirt under my fingernails when guy walks by. Or more realistically, sucking in my gut, looking up as to not show my double chin, and never raising my arms above my head so that I don't abruptly take flight from my bat wings when a guy walks by. (I can have an entire blog dedicated to Why I don't wear Shorts. But I'll save that for another time.)

Confidence is what men say they want in a woman. So how come it's something I can't get a grip on, even when I don't view the "men" in my life to be potential mates? WHY do I still, at 31, feel like I'm 16 and get asked to the prom only because their first date cancelled on them three days before the dance. -And yes that really did happen to me. What is it in women that give the men such power and control over their self worth?

I came to this idea. Women are born with an instinct. Much like a mothering intuition, we are born with an inner desire to find a mate. And for me, I have had that on my mind since I was in kindergarten. Being married and a mom is what I have always wanted to do. Nothing else held much desire for me because I wanted to be a wife and mother for my life. I've got the mother thing down packed. It's the wife thing I find to be troublesome. You see as a mother, I can do it all by myself. I don't really need anyone else to complete the task, and I do mean in the "raising of" definition. However, I am stuck. I am frozen in time, waiting for my mate. And there's not much I can do to move things along any faster. I must wait. Much like every other single woman out there. I know of many quality women, who are still waiting for their time to be a wife. And waiting is pretty much all we can do. Sure there's making yourself available, making sure you are attractive, preparing yourself by going to school, becoming something/someone in the meantime. But because we are waiting, we give the power of something we hold to be of great value to the men we seek.

I'm not entirely sure I know where I'm going with this, but I do know that I haven't figured it all out yet. There is no real ending to my blog tonight. Only unraveled threads that may never be mended. I guess the only thing I can say is this, Men will always hurt me. But only because I let them. However finding that is the process in finding that special someone. A dear friend once told me that dating is like flashing someone. You go up to them, open your trench coat and reveal yourself to them. They may or may not like what they see. But if you didn't expose who you really are, like only showing a little bit of yourself. A leg here, a shoulder there, etc. They'll never get to see the real you. And then never fall in love with the real you. So as much as it may hurt sometimes, and as much as you feel it safer to stay hidden, please don't. Make confidence your currency, shave your legs, even get a bikini wax and chose wisely who you flash because it's you who holds the power. Flash on sisters, Flash on.

The Long Run. . .

So today I ran my first complete mile. And for those who know what I really look like, that's no small feat. I began running over two months ago to bring up my endurance in dancing on the stage. It worked wonders. Though i could never really "run". I'd jog for a small amount and then practically want to collapse after 1/8 of a mile. So I started up my spinning classes again to boost my self esteem about my exercise ability because I know I'm good at spinning (stationary cycling). I tried to run a little before or after my spinning class, but I never really felt like I was anything more than an embarrassment to those who watched me on the track. Not even my "NO FAT CHICKS" t-shirt would make me feel good about my aerobic endeavours. (The sheer irony of me wearing that shirt, and the look on people's faces as they would try and figure it out would always make me chuckle.)

So as I faced another boring day of me waiting around for something to do, I figured why not go to the gym. I didn't have a class to go to, nor any desire to run. I figured I would just simply walk around the track listening to music and ponder my thoughts in the cool air conditioned atmosphere. But once I walked outside, and felt to lovely 80* weather, I decided to not waste a punch on my pass and simply walk down to the old Cyprus track and walk there.

I walked at a moderate pace, not about to waste the opportunity to burn some calories off and my Cheerios from breakfast. (I'm on a low carb/sugar eating plan.) And forced myself to run one good lap. So I began, completely siking myself out thinking, "I'll be completely dying by the time that last corner comes around." But to my utter surprise, I wasn't and just kept going. I did feel that slight twinge of where my legs and heart would normally give out. But that's all it was, a slight twinge. So I began to think, I could make it 1/2 a mile. And if I could make it a 1/2 half a mile, I could try for one full mile!

Now my pace was slow, and my strides short. But I was running! And once I completed that last step, I still felt as if I could go on. I have always been a slow runner. I just couldn't ever get my legs to go fast enough. Not for lack of trying mind you. So I pursued sports that didn't require too much running, like volley ball and well volley ball. But now, I'm a runner. An actual runner! This fat girl is a runner. And I can still go on. I can still run more. I am going to keep running.

My life for me has always seemed like I was climbing up an escalator that was going down. And I'm sure a lot of you feel that way too sometimes. But this last few laps around the track of life for me have been a struggle. And there were days where I stopped fighting and let myself ride down the escalator to places that were less that wonderful. I regret so deeply those moments. But have learned things I never would've otherwise.

I have many days where I just don't want to run anymore. That I am so tired of running and getting no where, I'd rather just stand still. Today, I chose not to stand still, and the Lord blessed me for it. As small as one mile is, it is something that I never imagined for myself. But now have. I will continue to FIGHT the good fight. And so should you. Whatever your trials are, FIGHT! The absolute power we hold is immeasurable. I went a mile. How far will you go today?

Hurt. . .

Tonight is a repeat of last week. I place expectations that the evening will be filled with positive events. And once again I am hurt by people who have no clue the depth their daggers go. I have never in my life stated that I was a good speller, nor have I stated that my vocabulary was even close to being average. In fact those two factors have brought much pain and ridicule for most of my life. So why is it that I "allow" others to place their intelligence above mine? These particular individuals who so quickly damaged my self esteem tonight do in fact believe that they know more than others. And continually correct/point out others' imperfections and replace them with a much shinier, well versed version of their own.

Now I don't have much of anything against these individuals. They are truly quality people. And seemingly are my friends. Plus the particular circle of friends where they find home is a humorous gaggle. Therefore the roasting of one another is implied. So I ask this, Is standing your ground, and stating how much it hurts to be ridiculed based on things you have never voiced having, petty?

Normally I would turn the other cheek and laugh. Trying my best to hold back tears while they've unknowingly skated far away from the offense. Then go back the next time, practically setting myself up for the fall by playing the "nothing's wrong" part. This may seem to be rambling because it's late and my emotions are heated, but I am looking for suggestions. Do I continue to turn the other cheek? Or do I say what sound much like a temper tantrum in my mind?

The Long and Winding Road. . .

I have always found myself saying, "There's just never enough time to get everything done." And since my girls have been gone, I have found myself drowning in the sands of unused time. I also describe myself as a verbal person. My emotions are usually verbally driven and released to the universe daily. So I figured why not combine my massive amounts of solitude with my ever growing need to express myself and finally do something with this blog I have had for a while.

So. . . Here I go.

I met my ex in October 1998 on a blind date. And I knew instantly that I was going to marry him. And I did. Seven months later. The marriage started down hill from the beginning. But I believe I was in denial for most of it. One girl, Two girls, Three girls later, my patience ran out. And I placed a proposition before him. And he chose the road that would leave me standing alone. The road I had been avoiding for years but regrettably knew was unavoidable.

Everything I had believed to be my life, wasn't. And then everything I believed in, slowly began to fade. And then nothing was familiar to me anymore. I started to sink into a numbing and comforting abyss. One I believed I would never escape from.

I am no longer engulfed in that pain. However the scars from those days are still fresh and very real. I don't believe I will ever fully recover from my "failed" marriage. Nor gain my sea legs for the endless ocean that is being a single Mother looking for love. (A love that seems very unattainable.)

This does seem to be a depressing beginning to my blog. However I do have a reason for mentioning all of this. I discovered a word shortly after my divorce that has stuck with me. It in fact is the name of my blog, Idiosyncrasy. It's formal definition, a person's peculiar characteristics fits me. But I fell in love with the medical definition of, an unexpected outcome. Because my life has truly placed me on a road that I never, ever expected to be on. The road signs are sometimes in Greek, the pot holes are big and covered in Oreo cookies, my dyslexia kicks in when reading the speed limit signs because the kids start fighting, and I always seem to just miss the last exit for a Coke. But I am where the Lord always knew I'd be. So I can't be too far off the mark. Can I?

For anyone who even cares to read this, I hope you find something in this mixed up life of mine that will bring a smile to your face. It's the only thing I have left that seems to have stood the test of time/travel, my sense of humor.