Archive for worries

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

{ March 13, 2009 @ 3:41 am } · { Facebook, aging, unattractive, what am I doing with my life?, worries }
{ } · { Comments (2) }

So a lot of my friends on Facebook have been posting old photographs lately, from high school and even some from junior high.  I don’t mind, I like looking at them.  Those years were a really great time in my life (although I had plenty of teenage angst, of course), and I get nostalgic looking at that stuff. 

However.

One of my “friends” posted several pictures from junior high.  It is a boy I knew in grade school/junior high, but I was never really great friends with him and I don’t remember speaking with him much once we were in high school.  But he’s on Facebook, and I like to see what people are doing and I enjoy leaving nice comments on Facebook, so I accepted his friends request.  Then I started getting email after email that he had tagged me in some photos.  Obviously I knew they had to be old since I haven’t seen him in so many years, and I went to check them out.  

He had posted picture after picture of me.  First a picture of me and my little junior high boyfriend (gnarly sloppy kisser, by the way).  Then he posted a picture of he and I at a school dance (not sure how that happened because we surely never dated).  He added a few more, and I was relieved to see that some of the others included other people, not just me.  But I was in all but one of them.  I started to feel a little weird about it, because like I said, we were never that good of friends.  But obviously it is harmless.

So then another girl commented on the photograph of me and him, wondering if I was his second date for this same dance, as he had posted a picture of himself and another girl at the same dance), and he said, “oh no, [Jem] is second to no one in my opinion.”

Folks, I am a sucker for ANY kind of flattery.  It made me feel good.  More than it should have, I think.

It’s just that when I look back at all of those photos from when I was younger, I can remember the confidence I had then.  I was always self-conscious, mind you, but I don’ t know, I just had a confidence then that I don’t have now.  I was cuter.  Thinner.  I felt a lot shinier then than I do now.  Does that makes sense? 

I sent one of the pictures from when I was 18 to a friend of mine who didn’t know me back then.  It took her a while to figure out which one of those girls was me.  Yikes.  She said, but [Jem], you still look the same.  You have gained weight, yes, but you could be that girl again.

Um, no.  I will never be that girl again.  She was 18.  I am 31.  She had naturally blond hair, thighs that didn’t touch, and no student loans.   Virtually no responsibilities whatsoever.  She used to walk down the football player’s hallway (which had a nasty smell, btw) in her tennis skirt and pretend she didn’ t know they were looking at her.    She could go buy a prom dress without worry about her arm flab and ginormous boobs. 

I can’t get back the youthful naivete and blissful ignorance that she had then.  Nor can I get back the flawless skin.  I try to tell myself that the thing I have now add up to more than what she had.  Those old pictures?  That’s what I looked like when I was proud of myself, and I don’t know how to explain it except to say that I don’t look like that anymore. 

I’m concerned I’m one of those cliche girls who peaked in high school.  I need to pick myself up and make some changes.  And I don’t mean to make it sound like there is so much wrong with my life or who I am not; there’s not.  I just want to polish it up and make it shine a little, you know?

Reason number 4,872…..

{ August 29, 2008 @ 3:58 am } · { Facebook, aging, babies, random thoughts, worries }
{ } · { Comments (2) }

why Facebook is evil.

Now, I’m barely a member of Facebook.  I have a page, have filled out the bare minimum of a profile, and have posted exactly one picture on there.  I have about 35 friends, most of whom I never see in real life.  I don’t have anyone to stalk on Facebook, so that isn’t a problem. 

But.

Tonight I decided to do a search on the folks who graduated in my law school class.  Can I tell you?  It had to be about 90% of them that had babies/children in their main pictures.  I was all “awww” and “ooh, that’s a sweet baby” for the first page, but by the second, third and beyond pages, I started to think, “wait a minute, how have ALL of them managed to marry and reproduce in the last 5 years?”

Now.  Basically all of my friends have babies, so that’s nothing new.  But I always think, well, I’ve taken a little bit of a different path – having gone through 3 more years of school than they did.  So somehow I found it shocking that all those people who did follow the same path as I did are all married with children.

So, yeah.  It’s official – I’m WAY behind the eight ball.  Of course I know that everyone has their own timeline in life and these things are not to be worried about, but still.  The clock’s a tickin’

Let not your hearts be heavy

{ August 27, 2008 @ 2:18 am } · { death, family, love, relationships, worries }
{ } · { Comments (1) }

That’s what the priest at B’s dad’s funeral kept repeating:  “Let not your hearts be heavy”. 

Easier said than done though, right?

NotAmy reminded me after my last post that although the services were over and life was back to normal, likely the death of B’s father will affect us for quite some time to come. 

It’s not my father.  I try to thank God every day for that very thing – keeping my family healthy.  It’s no small thing, that I know for sure.  So for me, life as usual resumes, and it is easy to forget that the same isn’t true for my B.  He is still hurting so much,  and sleeping fitfully at night.  But he’s brave and he’s a man, so he doesn’t talk about it, and I follow his lead and gloss over it as well.   But said or unsaid, it is still there.  Indeed, his heart is heavy.

B has made it clear that he intends to visit his mother every weekend.  Indefinitely, I guess.  His parents moved about 2.5 hours away last year, to a city where they know no one.  So now his mom is all alone, with all of her family back here.  B is worried about his mom and I think feels some sort of responsibility to take care of her, even though she is a very capable woman and doesn’t really need taken care of.  But he has decided that he will go to see her every weekend. 

As you dear readers know, because of the distance between my house and B’s, I only get to see B on weekends.  And regrettably, weekends are only two days long.  So B doesn’t have time to visit his mother and see me.   All of our plans have fallen by the wayside for the forseeable future.

Initially, I’m slightly irritated, I’m not going to lie.  And believe me, I know how selfish that is.  But it just makes me sad not to see B.  I want to be with him.  But it isn’t about me.  And I have to keep reminding myself that it has been less than two weeks since B’s dad passed away.  So I have to be patient and supportive and understanding.  I just wish it came a little more naturally to me than it does.  Regardless, I know I can’t lay my issues on top of what he’s already dealing with, so I’ll suck it up.  I’ve been trying to figure out what I can do to make this time easier on B, and I guess this is it – allow him to do what he feels he needs to do without hassling him.

Of course, I’m glad that B is the kind of man who can be counted on, and will do anything for his family.  I know those same qualities make him a caring partner, and will someday make him a wonderful father.  I just miss him, that’s all.   

My heart too is heavy.

This, that and the other

{ July 29, 2008 @ 3:13 am } · { travel, worries }
{ } · { Comments (3) }

So I really don’t have much to write about tonight, but I’m trying anyway. 

I’m trying to get stuff together for the trip up north.  This is a high-maintenance trip!  Normally when I go on vacay I just have to worry about what I’m going to wear and toiletries.  Which, believe me, the way I pack is plenty. 

But for this trip we need food, drinks, towels, all manner of dishware (disposable, of course), hand and dish soap, lawn chairs, on and on and on.  I started making a pile in the corner of my living room of stuff I’m taking.  So far it is pretty little because I’m not trying that hard yet.

Any good insect repellent ideas, folks?  I really really hate bug spray.  I don’t like the way it smells or feels on my skin.  But also I don’t like mosquito bites (or west nile disease for that matter), so I’ve got to come up with something. 

And bears?  Whaddya think – run or play dead?  I’m not a fast runner by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m also not a good actress, so I’m sort of weighing my options right now.    Just want to be ready.   

Is it just me, or did summer nights used to be warm and balmy?  The summer nights this year have been cool.  I don’t like that.  But it will be nice in the northwoods considering the no air conditioning issue.  

Kara – I appreciate the optimism, but I’m not sure “romantic” is really the word.  And yes, I will take plenty of pictures of the “resort” and anything else you all might find interesting and I’ll do a post when I get back.

Batting A Thousand

{ June 12, 2008 @ 3:08 am } · { baseball, dating, love, neuroses, relationships, worries }
{ } · { Comments (6) }

So B called me after work tonight.  He was on his way to go out, I was out at the mall.  We were just chatting, and he was telling me that they (see my previous post) had a good time at the game.  And he was telling me how bad traffic was and how long it took them to get there.  Great, I thought, more time spent together.

So in my typical perfect-timing fashion, I told him that it makes me a little uncomfortable when he hangs out with other women alone. 

Silence.

“Rebecca is my co-worker,” he tells me, with the slightest touch of irritation and defensiveness.

“And yet……she is still woman, no?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Listen, I’m not saying that you can’t hang out with her or other women, I’m just saying it makes me a little uncomfortable, especially when it is a girl I don’t know.”

“But you’ve met Rebecca.”

“I know, but I don’t know her.  The only things I know about her is that she is newly divorced and she saw your man parts at the Christmas Party.”

So then he proceeds to tell me about her – about the work she does, and how his friend M fixed up her townhouse when her husband moved out, and how she has had a really bad year.  In addition to the her divorce, her 28 year old cousin passed away from a brain tumor, and her aunt passed away also from cancer about a year later.  So she is going through a rough time.

So, yeah, I’m an asshole.  A selfish paranoid asshole.  Here I am begrudging this poor girl a good time out with my boyfriend. 

But really, all I was thinking was that all of the facts that he was giving me about Rebecca are not the kind of things I need to know in order to feel comfortable with them being alone together.  

But after that I just let it drop because like I said, I wasn’t trying to say that he shouldn’t have women friends (although I would be happier if he didn’t have SINGLE women friends that he hang out with alone).  I suppose there was no point in even telling him that it bothered me a little, but what can I say, sometimes I like to hear myself talk.   Sometimes I even like to hear myself whine.  Kinda like right now.

Ok, I’m done.  Oh, and Kara, SF, and RWG?   Thanks for the comments on my last post.  It always helps to get input from others so that I know I’m not totally nuts/paranoid and what might be an adult way to handle the situation. 

Getting to Second Base Redux

{ June 11, 2008 @ 4:58 am } · { baseball, dating, love, neuroses, relationships, worries }
{ } · { Comments (4) }

So tonight my boy is on a date with another woman. 

Ok, so technically it isn’t a date.  He’s at a baseball game with a girl from work.  We’ll call her Rebecca.  Anyway, last night I was talking to him and he mentioned that he was going to a game tonight.  I expressed suprise, I wasn’t aware he had a game tonight.  He said, yes, I told you that.  I said, well, who is going with you?  And he told me Rebecca.  Oh, I said.  Yes, I’m very articulate. 

It bugs me a little bit.  Don’t get me wrong, I trust B.  I do.  I truly don’t think he would ever cheat on me.  But there is one little tiny part of my brain that says, “you never know….”  And it’s not even so much that I worry he would cheat on me so much as I worry that he might enjoy spending time with another girl more, and ditch me somewhere down the line.  I know this is ridiculous.

Mostly the problem is that I don’t really know Rebecca that well.  Here’s what I know so far:  she is newly divorced and she saw B’s weenus at the office Christmas party.  I exaggerate a little- she just walked in on him in the men’s restroom.  It was a story that I didn’t find particularly amusing at the time, and I don’t now.  Anyway, the point is that there is so much I don’t know, such as what exactly is their relationship and if she has any romantic interest in my man.  And, she gets to see him everyday, and I don’t.  He has this whole life that I’m not a part of, and so I think in many respects the people he works with and his friends know him much better than I do.

I had this same issue last year when B went to a game with another girl, Katherine (I’d link to that post if I weren’t too lazy to find it).  If he went to a game alone with Katherine now, I wouldn’t care at all because I know her a lot better now.    If it is a girl he is friends with that he knew before me (which is pretty much everyone), then I assume they would have gotten together before I entered the picture if they wanted to.  But Rebecca was married before, so this is a little different.

Anyway, it really is no big deal, but it is bugging me a little bit.  But my problem is this – I could talk to him about it, but what result am I looking for?  I don’t necessarily mean to say that he shouldn’t go to a baseball game with Rebecca (or any other woman for that matter).  I certainly don’t mean to say that he isn’t allowed to have female friends.   I definitely don’t want to be that girl.  So I don’t know.  I’ll probably be over it by the time I talk to him, but I might just tell him it sketches me out a bit and leave it at that. 

But I still don’t know (a la “When Harry Met Sally”) if women and men can ever be just friends.  Is there always some sexual tension from one side or the other?  I don’t have any male friends that I hang out with alone.  All of my guy friends are the husbands of my girl friends.  I have ManWhore, but he doesn’t live around here, so I don’t ever see him.  And if we did hang out, he would forever be trying to get into my pants. 

Anyway, good night.

Freaking me out…

{ April 21, 2008 @ 4:12 am } · { dating, love, random thoughts, relationships, sex, worries }
{ } · { Comments (5) }

So last night I was up at B’s house.  Now, I don’t normally tell bedroom stories, and I’m still not really going to do so here, but B said something to me last night that had my heart pounding for a moment. 

So we had just finished up in the bedroom, and I had gone to the bathroom to clean up.  When I came back, I noticed a huge wet spot, on my side of course (he always comes over to my side, for that specific reason, I believe).  Anyway, I said something like, “damn it, B, look what you did”.  Not seriously mad, of course, I just like to give him shit about it. 

Anyway, here’s what he said:  The cat did it.

*Crickets*

So I’m sure most of you are thinking, what’s the big deal, right?  Well, for those of you who are reading Kara’s interview with other bloggers, you probably saw the interview she did with Markalan.   Well, the interview contained a link to a post that Markalan had written about a very funny bedroom incident in which he and his wife told their child that the cat had thrown up on the bed. 

Oh, and I should mention that B doesn’t have a cat.

So I thought of Markalan’s post when B said the cat did it, because I just read it last week.  I thought, OMG, he’s seen my blog.  Which is ridiculous, of course.  Because to even have seen that post, he would have to read my blog, and Kara’s, and Markalan’s.   So then I stopped freaking out in my head, because it just isn’t that probable.  I’m not even sure he knows that blogs exist.

But B?  If you are here?  Hi!  Love you!  Don’t go back and read the archives, k?

Hehe.

Random though, no?

I’ve got it under control…

{ April 17, 2008 @ 4:15 am } · { boobs, dating, is it just me?, life, love, neuroses, random thoughts, relationships, worries }
{ } · { Comments (8) }

I have a hard time allowing someone to take care of me.  It feels like giving in, somehow.  Like admitting that I can’t do it all, and showing my weakness(es). 

I’ve been having some car trouble for quite some time now, and have just been ignoring it.  I really detest spending money on car repairs, so if it isn’t literally broken, then I won’t fix it.  But it has been getting worse and worse, and B has been riding my ass like Zorro to get it fixed (incidentally, he is the type of guy who takes his car in to get looked at the minute his service engine soon light comes on.  Um…yeah, opposites attract, right?)  He explained the problem to his friend, who is a mechanic, and he basically said that it sounded like a problem wherein I can expect my wheel(s) to fall off sometime in the very immediate future.  Perfect.

So I had to get it fixed.  And for some reason, every time I think about getting my car fixed, I get immediately overwhelmed with the details – mostly, who do I take my car to?  As a woman, it is hard to trust a mechanic not to take advantage of my mechanical stupidity.  So B wanted me to bring my car up for his friend to fix.  This presents a few logistical problems, as he lives about 45 minutes away from me, and I need my car to get around. 

But I didn’t really have a choice, and I was already at B’s house on Sunday night, so we decided that I would take my car in to his friend on Monday morning, and then I would rent a car.  B wanted me to just drop him off at work and just take his car, but I really really didn’t want to inconvenience him.  I don’t like other people to be bothered with my problems.

But then we went to the rental car agency, and the representative asked me for my driver’s license and credit card.  And then I realized that I had left my driver’s license in my work bag, and I told the guy that.  “Are you serious?” asked B.  Um….yeah.  He clearly doesn’t know what it is like to have to switch bags all the time.  It is not easy, folks!

So anyway, he had to rent the car then, and I just took his car.  Off I went to work, and B called me with the diagnosis within about an hour and a half.   $1000 and a few hours later, I had a fixed car, so I had to drive back up to B’s so that we could do the car switcheroo again.

Anyway, not to make a short story long, but my point was that if I had just followed my instincts, I would have just went to the Honda dealer to get it fixed, figured out how to get from work from there, and probably paid twice as much to get it fixed.  And there would have been a lot of whining involved, I’m sure.  But nobody else would have had to deal with my problem.

But as much as I want to be perfect at taking care of myself, sometimes it feels nice to let someone lighten the load just a little bit, and make the problem solving easier.  And I think it made B feel good to be able to help me, because that is what loved ones are for. 

Once I read a guy’s profile on an online dating website that said something to the effect of “I am looking for a woman who will love me and who will allow me to love her.  It sounds so simple, but it really is hard to find a woman who will let herself be loved.” 

I didn’t quite understand it at the time (and I never emailed him because I thought he was out of my league looks-wise, right Kara?), but I think it is kind of the same thing that I’ve been talking about.  Women are so independent and self-sufficient these days, and have a hard time giving up a little bit of self-control and letting a guy in.  But everyone wants to feel like they are bringing something to the table in a relationship, so I think we (or at least I) need to ease up a little and let them show what they have to give.

Anyway.

On a wholly unrelated note, I still keep getting searches on my blog for “MollyElizabeth’s boobs” and now I got one for “Kara’s boobs”.  What gives?  I mean, I’m sure that Molly Elizabeth and Kara both have fantastic breasts, but you won’t find them here.  And I have to say, I’m a little jealous that you folks aren’t searching out my breasts.  This is my blog, people.  I’m just saying. 

 

Great Expectations

{ February 18, 2008 @ 10:36 pm } · { dating, love, relationships, worries }
{ } · { Comments (3) }

Valentine’s Day?  Sucked.

Like I said in my last post, I was trying really hard to not have expectations.  But, alas, I did.  Expectations which, low as they may have been, were not in any way met.

He didn’t even send me a card.  Nothing.  And mind you, I know he sent a card to his mother.  And he is not a mama’s boy or anything, so I thought that was nice.  But he was AT THE STORE, looking at cards, and apparently it didn’t occur to him to get me a card.  And what’s more?  He didn’t say anything about the card I sent him.  The card I sent him wherein I spilled my guts.    Not one word. 

So, obviously, I was mad.  I went home from work, saw that he hadn’t sent me a card, threw myself down on my bed and cried.  Clearly, I thought, my boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about me.  My mom and stepdad flew into town on Thursday for my (kinda) surprise birthday party (more on that later), so I had to dust myself off, fix my makeup and go meet them for dinner.  My mother did give me a Valentine’s Day gift.  I can always count on her at least. 

Anyway, I was going to tell him that it hurt my feelings, but I didn’t want to pick a fight because we had to go out of town for my birthday party on Saturday.  And when I talked to him on Thursday, he was all upset because he learned that he didn’t get a job that he really wanted, and I didn’t want to kick him while he was down.  It wasn’t until about our third phone call of the day that he even remembered to tell me Happy Valentine’s Day, which it so clearly was not.  So I just went on harboring ill will towards him.  On Saturday he came to pick me up to go to the party, and he brought me some chocolates and a card, both of which I’m pretty sure were an afterthought.  But it was enough to appease me and for me to get over it.  Truly, I didn’t care about any kind of gift or anything, but an ackowledgment that he cares for me in some way would be nice.  Sometime before I die, preferably. 

But it was definitely my worst Valentine’s Day ever.  And that is saying something, considering I am 29 years old (for 6 more days!) and have never had a boyfriend on V-Day.  It is the expectations that will kill you.  But then again, I’m not sure no expectations is necessarily a good thing either.   

Please Mr. Postman

{ February 13, 2008 @ 5:04 pm } · { dating, love, neuroses, random thoughts, relationships, vomiting, worries }
{ } · { Comments (2) }

Still having the doldrums over here.  I think it is the lack of sunlight.

Ah, crap, my boss just interrupted me.  Seriously, I wish he would leave me alone.  Clearly I’m busy here.

 Ok, got him all squared away.  Now where was I?  Oh, right, whining about my boring life.  Nothing to write about.

 So tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.  I’ve never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before.  But I’m not sure that B and I are going to celebrate it in any way.  He hasn’t mentioned it, and neither have I.  I guess because we never see each other during the week, although it certainly isn’t impossible.  So I’m really really trying not to have expectations.  But there is this little voice in the back of my head that is secretly hoping that he’ll send me flowers. 

I put a card for him in the mail yesterday.  I sat on the sofa for a while, thinking about what to write.   I was drafting the note on my computer first, as I didn’t trust myself to get it right the first time.  And as I started writing, I started crying.  I don’t know why, just hit with my feelings for him all of the sudden, I guess.  Then again, I cry every week when I watch The Biggest Loser too (and sometimes Oprah), so maybe I’m just a big baby.   But anyway, I wrote him a letter in the card, telling him how I feel about him.  He and I have never really opened up to each other about our feelings (hopefully I’m not the only one who has them), so I think it will be nice for him to hear. 

But then, as soon as I released my card into wild via the USPS box in the basement of my work building, I started to feel a little anxious about it.  What if he doesn’t feel the same?  What if he thinks I’m coming out of left field with this stuff?  But, ultimately, I know that is silly.  I’ve been dating this man for a year, and if can’t understand my feeling and/or reciprocate them, I kinda need to know that.   

In other news, I threw up again this weekend while I was out with B – this time at the restaurant.  I am becoming one classy broad.  Can’t take me anywhere.  Because apparently?  I am now a chronic vomiter (vomitor? vomitress?).  Anyway, yeah.  Not good.  And no, I’m not pg.  Just someone whose stomach likes to empty itself at random times and places.  Ah, well, it keeps things interesting I guess.

« Previous entries