A New Do

I don't really know what sparked this...

But, I want a hair cut.

Like, one with bangs and shorter than my shoulders. Something new and frisky and different.

I don't even know which kind.

I may want to color my hair, too.

Maybe red. I've gone strawberryish red before--I'm naturally a brunette.

I don't like myself blonde, but I think red--not like a fire engine...more of an auburn, I suppose--could be good.

What do you think?

(Minus the slightly druggie look)

(I THINK she has clothes on. If not, well, then, rate this post R. )

Still And Quiet

Firstly, I want to say that I appreciate all the comments and care and concern. I don't want to seem ungrateful, or bull-headed, or anything of the sort--but trust me, this is definitely a day-by-day thing--this processing of my life.

I've been crazy busy the past few days--when I finish this week, I'll have clocked over ninety hours at the hospital. A very good friend of mine had her baby--the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen in my life. :) I get to meet her tomorrow morning--I'm super psyched. Plus, I had my nursing entrance exam this afternoon.

Stupidly, I planned that well before I started working night shift, and this whole sleep in the day time thing meant it felt like I was waking up at midnight to take a test.

So. Yeah, it's definitely been a week of it.

Some days, I really feel like I'm ok. I laugh and goof off and go about my day like I did before. Perfectly fine; I change the cat litter, feed the dogs, do laundry.

And some days..well, some days are a little rougher. Today, I spent a good hour or so on the phone with my best friend. I've mentioned her in passing on here before--her husband is his best friend. Normally, she's all about pulling for us.

Today, she said she was really struggling with being furious at him. She said when her husband talked about him, it made her angry. That she felt I was being very manipulated. She wants me to leave...like, told me she'd hold her peace until I was ready, but she was watching the clock. It makes me feel very burdened somehow. Dead tired.

I know how you all feel, but I want this to work. I know it seems silly, stupid, at this point, but I want it so badly I can taste it.

And, yet--I asked him if he'd spoken with her again. He said no, that he'd deleted the number.

I believe that.

But, I believe it was the name he deleted. I think they still talk.

I feel paranoid.

And my best friend wants me to bail.

And you guys agree.

And, I don't want to.

And, I know I should.

He says I'm not being myself tonight. He says that I'm not being playful. He keeps asking me what's wrong.

I don't have anything to say.

I want to be still and quiet--this is a feeling I've not had since I was a very little girl. Since my first step-dad. When he'd get angry, or he'd cheat on my mom, or anything, Mom always told me to be very still and very quiet, and maybe it would go away.

I always went to the shower to do that. To sit under water hot enough to scald, and let it make all the noise for me.

He's been sweet today. Very nice. Very affectionate. Very teasing, and very like it was before.

And, all I want is to hide in the shower.

Fool Me Once, Shame on You...Fool Me Twice..

Shame on me.

Trick me three times...I'm a fool.

And, I'm still here.

More the fool.

I keep holding onto this dream that I should have let go months and months ago. The first time he cheated, I should have said goodbye. The second time, I should have had him out that door.

Now...God, what else is there? It's too much to leave, it hurts too bad to stay. He was sick, so sick. A fever well over one hundred. His phone buzzed--he was expecting a work related text, and I didn't want to wake him unless it was important.

I checked it.

It wasn't work. But, when I clicked out of that text and all the recents came up--a girl's name. One I recognized from May. One that, when I'd asked him about her then, was assured didn't exist. I was stupid. I believed him. On a whim, I clicked into the thread. Texts upon texts, some as recent as two days ago. And not "hey how are ya" texts, either.

He says he's sorry.

I say I've heard it all before.

Some time ago, I was waiting on a table. They were discussing cheating and what the best thing to do when it occured was. The woman was all bluster. "Oh, buddy, I find out you cheated on me, I'm gone. Just like that. Gone, gone."

The man looked at her, dead in the eyes. Then, they slid over to mine. His stare was scary intense; my eyes dropped.

"She says that," he said quietly, sure as sunrise, "But I own her. Body. Heart. Mind. Soul. All of it. She's mine." When I glanced back up, her face had flushed, but she'd fallen silent. "And, think of this--everyone has a reason for all that they do. And, you think you want to leave? Imagine the next morning. And the one after that. When there's no one to hold you. No one to love you. When you're all alone. Was it worth not just sticking through it? No. If you stay, even once, he owns you. Sure as I own her. You belong to him. Don't forget it."

I stayed once. I love him. I hate him. I hate the insecurity of it. I hate that they have something that I don't. I can't keep his attention, and since I'm the one fool enough to stay, time after time, maybe that's what I deserve. I stayed twice.

I woke up this morning, spitting, cussing mad. I pushed him, I screamed, I cried. "We were doing so well! So much better! Why?"

There was quiet. He kept trying to touch me, to hold me...what kind of safe place is that? One that finds his comfort, his fun, someplace else. I finally caved, falling into the only place I know, that soft spot right between his arms. Fell into that familiar "dance" as Rogue calls it.

"Text me," I pleaded before I left for work. Too needy, too close to the floor. Too weak to stand on my own.

He did. To tell me he found the gun he wanted. That the pawn store puts it on lay away; that maybe the check after next we can get it. So confident I'll still be here.

Probably because I will be.

And, more than him, I hate myself for that.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, three times....

Leave Work....At Work

My restaurant is a training store. Every manager anywhere close to my area comes to train through us. Some are fantastic and very popular with the staff. Some, not as well liked. And, then there are those that are universally loathed by the other managers, the servers, the hosts, the bartenders--everybody.

Many months ago, we had one; his name was Ry. He was definitely one of the latter. In addition to treating his employees like something the cat drug in--after it swam through a muddy river and rolled it in dog poo--he refused to go to bat for them at all. If there was mistake at a table, he pinned it firmly on the server's head. There was no discounts given, no excuses, no apologies.

He was rude to the guests and appalling to his servers.

Last night, he was transferred in to our store as a legitimate manager. I know of three servers who are not returning, simply because he's our manager now. I had thought that perhaps now, since he wasn't in training--he'd get off his little power trip, and maybe he'd be something I could deal with.

Last night alone, we had three hot run-ins. I said some things that were definitely NOT good ideas to throw up at your boss.

He  told me some incredibly rude, atrocious things also.

By the time that I left, I was smoking mad. Unfortunately, I carried that over into mine and Steven's trip to the grocery store. And, I carried all that disrespect home and dumped it right in his lap. I was angry--not so much at him, but more at my day in general--but there's no question that I took it out on him.

And, there's no question that he took his not-gonna-be-treated-that-way out on my backside. But, I fought him. Physically-I stood up, put my hand back, kicked up my feet. Verbally--I cussed him up one side and down the other, flatly told him no...

And mentally--I shut down.

For my trouble, I wound up with the worst kind of spanking. The kind that starts in the corner and ends OTK, not being allowed to say one word or so much as twitch like I'm going to protect my bottom or stop him from hitting right where he aims.

Afterwards, though, I can admit--I feel much quieter, in my heart and in my mind. I feel an easy sort of peace that, unfortunately, really only comes at the expense of my backside.

Hopefully, this will stay with me...long after I can sit comfortably again!

Update

Ok, so as ungrateful and blicky as my last post was--it shouldn't be hard to beat with positivity now.

Firstly, let me warn you guys--this could be a lengthy post...or, I could succumb to my body's demands to get my little butt back to bed. You see, I went in to work yesterday(I work at a hospital), and they immediately handed me a mask. "You sound awful. You can't go into patients' rooms until we're sure you don't have something. Like the flu. Cuz, geez, you look like you have it. EOH opens soon, and you need to go get swabbed."

I had only  a low-grade to non-existent fever, so I expected the test to come back negative. No such luck. I was sent home with orders not to come back until I was fever free for twenty-four hours.

Not happened yet.



But, that brings me  back around to the positivity. Steven read my last post. Naturally, he says, even though I was surprised. And, like seems to be the trend around here, it sparked meaningful, heart-felt, much-needed conversation.

Conversation that discussed his fears regarding marriage, my hang-ups and insecurities regarding NOT being married, and the simple base need for us both to feel wanted by the other. My constant push for more, more, more brought him to the conclusion that he wasn't enough, that he wasn't my "White Knight"...a by-product of my actions and complaints that I'd never considered. At one point, I made the comment,

"I feel, sometimes, like you don't have passion for me. Like, maybe you would be happier with someone different, someone who, at least figuratively 'sweeps you off your feet'. That you can't wait to be with, to sleep with, to see, to talk to."

There was a half beat of silence.

"Do you mean I'd be happier with someone else...or that YOU would?"

It was a turning point in our discussion for sure. At any rate, we talked about how to make each other feel more wanted, more desired, more cherished. I said that I was a total girl; I missed the romance of the early relationship, and that I didn't want to lose that spark that reminds us everyday just WHY we're with who we're with.

He said, he didn't want to hear that he wasn't enough.

Simple, huh? I felt horrible. No, those words never left my mouth, never flipped off my tongue, but the gist was clearly spelled out in my tears and my actions, and my bitter recriminations, both on here, and with him, when I discussed T and L. (The cousins, the one with the baby, and the one with the engagement ring, respectively.)

I've made myself a little vow to do everything in my power to keep him from feeling like that ever. Ever.

Since that chat, we've both been very affectionate--as affectionate as we can be, of course, with me feeling like I'm going to die from this flu bug. They even put me on a inhaler, for crying out loud! And, he's been phenomenal, quite the tender.


Which, speaking of, he's bringing breakfast, so I'm gonna wrap this up.

Basically, I don't regret posting what I did before.I think that this is my space to "let it all go". But, I'm so pleased that, in two short days, my opinion and mindset has changed so drastically.

With that being said--it's time to eat!

:)

The Ugly Inside

This post is going to seem super ungrateful, I think, especially since the last one was on Thanksgiving. I hate that, though, I really do, because I don't want to come across that way. I just need to spit some things out, and I think I'll feel much better, seeing all my thoughts in stark black and white. Maybe they'll make more sense that way.

It's strange how you can be having a great day, and one little thing can flip it all around, and send you spiraling into a thoughtful, moody sort of day instead. Today was a little like that.

Steven and I had a splendid afternoon together.  We already have our tree up, but we didn't have any outside Christmas decorations, and I really want my "tradition" to be going all out. I love Christmas, and since this is the first one that we've lived together for, I want to go ahead and get a jump-start on what I hope is tradition for many years to come. So, this morning, we loaded up together and picked out lights to decorate the front with. As we pulled into our driveway, our neighbors came outside and we introduced them to our newest addition: a beautiful little Yorkie puppy my Dad gave us. The five of us chatted for quite some time, and then my Dad came over to help Steven hang the lights.

I stayed inside, doing dishes, laundry, making tea, and the like. Steven did a lovely job--I can't say that Dad helped much, lol. He mostly comes over to chat, I think.

Anyway, when Steven left for work, Dad went home to check on his own dogs. He was supposed to come back and watch the Grinch with me. He didn't. Instead, I sat on the computer and looked up Christmas-y songs. I decided I might want to interpret one, so I was flipping through lyrics and such, until Facebook distracted me.

Once on there, I saw an old friend of mine's pictures. She was with a man; I pulled up  her page to Facebook stalk. They've only been in a relationship for a week, and I found myself snorting at the sheer number of pictures they had plastered everywhere. You'd think they'd been together for ages, all posts about "I'm blown away by your affection, beautiful" and sugary sweetness. She did look beautiful, thin and fit and happy.

And, a very ugly, jealousy emotion reared its head. I'm gaining weight, because I have some kind of allergy no one can fix that leaves me in hives after I work out. And, I want that perfect, cheery looking kind of relationship that comes at the first week of relationships, before there are any problems at all. Don't get me wrong, Steven is a wonderful man. He's so, so good to me. And, this is me being just a silly girl, but I want pictures and to flout our relationship. Really, and truthfully, I want to be married. That's the real thing. I've paid the "boyfriend" dues, I feel like. We've been together well over two years, and I so want the ring and the certificate and to feel like everything is right, and if we WANTED, we could have kids people would approve of. I want my family to not have to stumble over the words "daughter and son-in-law", because they feel like we're "practically married" anyway, but we're NOT. And I wish we were.

I have these two cousins; neither of them really have very steady jobs. One lives with an aunt of ours, nursing her new, beautiful baby boy--a child that has no daddy. At least not one that Mommy really knows who is. And the other? She snuck out in the middle of the night one night, leaving her ex-boyfriend living with her mother, to high-tail it to the other end of the US, and live with another computer boyfriend. Guess what. They're engaged. It's been less than a month.

I know that it's dumb to feel so super jealous about all of that, because both of them are doing something remarkably stupid. And, yet....I am. The one has asked me to be her maid of honor. Naturally, I said yes, and told her how thrilled I was for her.

But, I don't feel thrilled. I feel dark and ugly inside, and jealous, and wistful.

And, I know Steven. This is not something to bring up. He doesn't want to be married right now. And, it's not really a fair thing to fight about, because, seriously, who wants to marry someone they have to beg to pop the question?

I know he loves me. I know I'm just feeling morose. I know that it's about that time of month. I'm sure that's a contributing factor.

But, today?

Ew.

Thanksgiving Cheer!

I don't have long this morning--Steven and I have about a million different segments of our two families to visit today, and it seems like every dinner is about an hour apart. We'll be 1,000 lbs a piece by the time we finish this day!! :) Fortunately, everyone can cook. And I mean, COOK.

But, I wanted to pop on here super quick and tell everyone to have a very Merry Thanksgiving, and keeping in the spirit of things---

I am exceedingly thankful for my life, for my dogs, for my cat, for my man. For his patience, and for the strength shown these past few, rather tumultuous months. I am thankful for our little family, and for the fun and the laughs and the putting up our very first Christmas tree together last night.

Thankful that Steven is letting me keep one of my dad's little yorkie puppies--his name is Merlin Templar, and he comes home next week. :)

I am thankful that I finished making all of our stockings and never have to wield a glitter pen in that manner again--my goodness, what a mess!!

Super thankful that Steven does the cooking. (Remind me later, I'll tell you guys--our stove exploded this past Friday. It's been an eventful week, lol.)

I am thankful for all of you guys, my blogger friends, for your following and support and comments and all that comes with it! Thank you all for showing interest in our little corner of the world, and for opening yourselves up in your blogs and letting me share in yours.

Also---

I'm thankful for turkey. :) Good, dry white meat, with a side of broccoli casserole and mashed potatoes, with a pumpkin pie slice, no whipped cream, waiting for me at the end.

Merry Thanksgiving, guys, I'm off to the table!