So, I had this thing

And it wasn't really a thing, more of a fling (I feel like Dr. Seuss with the rhyming right now) with this guy. Unfortunately, I enjoyed his company.  I only say unfortunately because, for me, sex is different from emotions.  Sex is enjoyable of its own accord. I enjoyed sex with this guy. I also enjoyed what I thought could be friendship, because he isn't too stupid to talk to. He's actually really smart. I mean, he's a guy, and he stopped calling me for sex, so obviously he's not that smart.

But there's that. He stopped calling and texting. I know he had personal shit going on with friends. I know because he told me. We talked about sad stuff. About real life stuff. Like friends do.

He also blew me off the last two times we were supposed to hook up. Clearly he's a moron. Not only am I attractive, and amazing in bed, but I also have no desire to be married, or attached, or trapped or anything. I want to be able to have some sex. Maybe a nice talk. And go home.

Fuck me. Is that so hard?

You like me!

So, I was just nominated for a Liebster Blogger Award. I did some googling, and it seems pretty neat. This is the best information that I've found on it, if you're curious, like me. I'll save you a step!


Liebster Blog Award Origins



Rules:

1. Answer the questions sent to you

2. Nominate 11 bloggers

3. Ask them 11 questions thought up by YOU!

4. Notify them that they have been nominated


So, I was nominated for this award by Yessica @thepushupbra

And here comes some truthiness…

1. What type of guy/girl are you attracted to?

• I tend to find myself drawn to creative types – artists, musicians, cooks. People with an outlet. An outlet worth discussing and enjoying together. I’m drawn towards people that are confident with an air of humility about them. It’s difficult to describe, but I can definitely point it out when I see it.

2. What was your most embarrassing moment?

• I tend to not be embarrassed very easily. Usually just when I do something stupid at work. You know, because I hate to be wrong. 

3. When and what was the last lie you told?

• “Yes, we had some good times. Of course I loved you.”

4. What do you like best about yourself?

• I like me a lot. My favorite thing about me, though is probably my brain. I’m very smart, and very logical. I dig that. 

5. What is your guilty pleasure?

• There are not a lot of pleasures that I feel guilty about. For a typical mid-thirties single mom, however? Really good casual sex, regular times at the bar, spending money on massages. The only one that actually can make me feel guilty, on occasion, is the massages. Because money is a evil, heartless bitch.

6. Is there anything that you regret?

• Of course there is. But dwelling on regrets brings on the guilt, and I’m a mom. I have enough of that on a regular basis.

7. Do you believe in love?

• Of course I do. I have children. And I would literally murder for them, without question or hesitation. I would sacrifice myself, my whole life, to ensure that they could have a few more happy days. Do I believe in love, relationship-wise? I guess. It always seems so transient though. Even if it is long term, I’ve found, in my personal experience, that love is based on experiences. Is it a feeling? Absolutely. Can it ebb and flow, like the tides? I think it can. 

8. If you could have a wish come true right now, what would it be?

• Right now, at this moment, I would wish for my most recent ex, Scout’s dad, to move on with his life. I wish he could and would get over me. And that sounds cocky, I’m sure, but it shouldn’t. I feel like he’s obsessed. To a disturbing degree. My life has moved forward, and it would be easiest for both of us if he could do that too. 

9. Would you get back to your ex if you had the choice?

• Not a single one. Nope. I lie. Well, no, I don’t. Because, as of the last time I heard about him, he was happily in a relationship with a woman that I know to be fabulous. We also haven’t dated since I was 16, so the memories are probably skewed by nostalgia at this point, but, as far as I can recall, we only broke up because circumstances weren’t ideal for us. I was 16. He was turning 21. We promised each other that if we were single in our 30’s, we’d reconnect. I haven’t heard anything. 

10. Do you still remember your first kiss?

• No? I feel like it was probably with my first boyfriend – my first everything – when I was 15, but I’m not sure. I don’t really remember anything about our relationship being that awesome, except that he could sing, and play several instruments. Oh, and he was obviously a tortured soul. I told you. Creativity gets me.

11. Do you remember your first crush?

• Not really, to be honest. I feel like it might have been a boy named Dante in middle school, but I’m not really 100%, and I can’t really commit to that answer. 

So, some questions for you guys. This is almost tougher than answering them.

• What’s your drink? What would you order at a bar if there were no repercussions – financial, health, or otherwise?
• What is your dream vacation?
• Tell me about your best day.
• What was your first car?
• Where did you fit in high school?
• Are you a texter or a caller?
• Everyone is a work in progress. What thing would you change about yourself if you could snap your fingers and make it happen?
• When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?
• Now, what do you want to be when you grow up?
• What time do you go to bed at night?
• What is your worst habit?

Now, for the nominees…

@Onemouthymommie https://www.facebook.com/OneMouthyMommie

@SteelWrkrWife https://www.facebook.com/steelworkerswife

@AOutspokenMommy http://www.outspokenmommy.com/

@Wheremypacifier http://www.wheresmypacifier.com/

@JennC922 http://mydailyjenn-ism.blogspot.com/

@zoevsuniverse http://www.zoevstheuniverse.com/

@ModMomMad http://modernmommymadness.com/

@housewife_plus http://housewifeplus.bangordailynews.com/

@OutNumbMother http://theoutnumberedmother.com/

@MamaBlues11 http://www.babybluesandrocknroll.com/

@YouAreaGoodMama http://youareagoodmama.com/

I guess this is my thing now.

The writing, I mean. I'm enjoying expressing myself. Sorting through my thoughts in this medium. And I think I may actually be fairly good at it. And that surprises me, too, to be honest.

I'm finding myself looking forward to sitting with my laptop, and sending my thoughts out to (hopefully) be enjoyed by someone.

I regret not continuing to write before. I regret losing that time. I think now, that if I had continued then, I may be in a different place right now. My perspective is changing. I'm able to release these thoughts and experiences, and not dwell on them. It's comforting to know that my memories will be here if I need to see them, but are no longer going to be taking up space in my mind.

I guess I'm rambling. Sometimes I do. I'm off to work. Wish me luck!

I'm "working" right now.

Sort of.

I'm halfway through what appears to be a dreadfully slow Friday double. I'd much rather be sitting in front of the fire. Or at least have pants on. I bartend in shorts, because my legs are likely to be covered in water, sour mix, tequila and a variety of other liquors and mixers on any given shift. It's usually plenty warm behind the bar, but it is pretty chilly today. This first real cold snap is killing me. Business wise, and otherwise. I hate the cold. I've lived in New England my entire life, and I still can't handle it.

It's dark and it's cold. I'm exhausted and dicking around with spreadsheets to make our restaurant run more smoothly. And hoping for guests tonight. I'd like to make a couple of dollars.

Though it seems that people are pretty rude tonight though, so maybe I should try to get the fuck out of here.

My view:

Wish me luck! Or come see me. Keep me company, and I'll pour the booze!

I almost died.

Ji

At first, actually, for a long time, I found that telling the truth about my life, my past, my story, to be really difficult. I wasn't cdomfortable. It still hurt. Some days it still hurts. But that happens. Things hurt, whether we expect them to or not. The difference now is that I can acknowledge the crappy parts, and move on. 

My son spotted a picture on my computer tonight. This picture:

He wanted to know what it was. You know what it is, right? It's a unit of blood. I think it's the second one that I received. Last January, I had a miscarriage. I didn't know I was pregnant. I thought my period was on steroids. I managed it with a ton of feminine hygiene products for a few days before I started to feel run down, weak, and woozy. Finally, on Sunday morning, I went to the Emergency Room. They ran some bloodwork, checked out my business, and said that they'd probably just give me a prescription to make the bleeding stop, and send me on my way. Nope.

They got my bloodwork back, and my hematocrit and hemoglobin levels were slightly over half of what they should have been. So, I was moved to another bed to get an EKG. That was fine, but they were insisting that I be admitted overnight, or have a blood transfusion. Fine. WAIT!

"Did you know that you're pregnant?"

"What?! No."

"Yeah, so we're going to have to do an ultrasound to make sure that everything is okay, then the doctor will likely have to perform a D&C."

The ultrasound was fine, but my hematocrit and hemoglobin levels were even lower. That's when they decided I needed to be rushed into surgery. Waking from ananesthesia was weird. I've never had any surgery before, and waking from a procedure that involves completing a miscarriage was really emotional.  When my levels still hadn't come up at all, I was admitted for the night so that my blood could start to regenerate. 

Do you know where they put you when you're being treated by OB/GYN? Bet you figured that one out. I was put in the back corner of the labor and delivery floor. That wasnt TERRIBLE for me, but only because I was bedridden until my levels came up. I had my first pint of blood transfused that night. My levels didnt rise at all overnight, so i needed another pint in the morning. I got to go home, but i was unable to care for Scout, so she had to stay with my parents and sister for a week. That was tough. 

The point is, though, that sometimes the hurt sneaks up, It was kind of tough to explain to a 12 year old. Especially when I wasn't expecting it. 

So much drama in the LBC

So, this is happening today. Not so awesomely cool. He has taken the license plates off of my car, and returned them when I threatened to take him to court. He says he never wants to see or speak to me again, after I threatened him with a restraining order. Again. And, he's told me that I need to speak to his mother to make arrangements for Scout. To be honest, I'm not going out of my way to do that. If he intends to make me "work" to ensure that they maintain a relationship, then he can kiss my fabulous ass. He can spend a little more time worrying about his daughter than whether or not I'll ever go "home."

Also, not a fairy tale ending. I mean, at least not until it is. 

This is one of my favorite pictures of me.

Because I remember this day.

I remember my strength.

I remember being amazed that my body is capable of doing what it does.

I remember feeling accomplished that I could do this almost entirely without medication.

I remember my baby. Even the third time, it's just as amazing.

Even knowing then, but not admitting that I would be doing things alone.

Some days, I need to remember the strength of my body, and the resolve of my soul to ensure that my children will always know that I am there for them, just the same ways that they brought new strength to me.