Travel Log...
London 2011
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
I cannot comprehend going back....
So, the gal I mentor told me today that she had a weak moment and almost called her on his way to being her ex husband. He's a douche bag. They have been together 27 years. Apparently, it was my sharing my story that gave her the courage to leave. She told me last week when we were on a group business trip that she had finally said the "D" word to him (divorce).
She didn't actually ask him for one. She has a house close to her office and he lives in their big house a few hours away. Occasionally, she goes there on weekends but has spent most of the last two years trying to avoid going there if at all possible. She is just so unhappy and he is not a nice man.
So, she confesses to me this morning that when he got mad she wasn't coming home and they had the argument and the topic of divorce came up, she said she had suggested to him that he keep the big house, she keep the little one and they go their separate ways. He slammed the phone down and they haven't spoken since.
I asked her why she almost called him and she was honest in that she was afraid to be alone.
I said I could sympathize with that because it's scary to face the future without any idea or assurance as to what it might hold. Her children are all grown and gone but I had to do it with a small child. So, I can totally understand. I thought hard though and as rough as it is to be alone... As scary and sad and boring and depressing and overwhelming and just....just....so sad sometimes...I would still take it for the rest of my life over five minutes back with db.
I pointed out that she could be alone IN a relationship with NO chance of ever being happy or alone OUT of a relationship with at least the chance to be happy.
She agreed but was still sad and I got her a tissue to wipe her tears.
I told her is was hard and she would cry and that's okay. I told her that even three years later sometimes I still drove to work in tears or drove home in them. Not because I missed him or wished to be back with him but because I too well understood the overwhelming feeling of being lonely and wondering if anyone would EVER love you again... Although, in my case, it would be would anyone ever love me? (I realize now that db did not love me).
It's not a perky or exciting post. And I do realize that there are some who do love me in their way. I often wonder if I will be alone for the rest of my life. The thought makes me very very very sad. But even the crushing sadness of solitude is no where near as painful as the bottomless depression I had begun to sink into towards the end of the marriage. Back then, there seemed to be no answer and no chance of ever having a happy future. At least now, there is a chance.
Until the stars align me with the one who will hold my hand when I am afraid, hug me when I need warmth, and love me for all I am, I will be brave and appreciate the fact that I am no longer despised, resented, and abused for it.
She didn't actually ask him for one. She has a house close to her office and he lives in their big house a few hours away. Occasionally, she goes there on weekends but has spent most of the last two years trying to avoid going there if at all possible. She is just so unhappy and he is not a nice man.
So, she confesses to me this morning that when he got mad she wasn't coming home and they had the argument and the topic of divorce came up, she said she had suggested to him that he keep the big house, she keep the little one and they go their separate ways. He slammed the phone down and they haven't spoken since.
I asked her why she almost called him and she was honest in that she was afraid to be alone.
I said I could sympathize with that because it's scary to face the future without any idea or assurance as to what it might hold. Her children are all grown and gone but I had to do it with a small child. So, I can totally understand. I thought hard though and as rough as it is to be alone... As scary and sad and boring and depressing and overwhelming and just....just....so sad sometimes...I would still take it for the rest of my life over five minutes back with db.
I pointed out that she could be alone IN a relationship with NO chance of ever being happy or alone OUT of a relationship with at least the chance to be happy.
She agreed but was still sad and I got her a tissue to wipe her tears.
I told her is was hard and she would cry and that's okay. I told her that even three years later sometimes I still drove to work in tears or drove home in them. Not because I missed him or wished to be back with him but because I too well understood the overwhelming feeling of being lonely and wondering if anyone would EVER love you again... Although, in my case, it would be would anyone ever love me? (I realize now that db did not love me).
It's not a perky or exciting post. And I do realize that there are some who do love me in their way. I often wonder if I will be alone for the rest of my life. The thought makes me very very very sad. But even the crushing sadness of solitude is no where near as painful as the bottomless depression I had begun to sink into towards the end of the marriage. Back then, there seemed to be no answer and no chance of ever having a happy future. At least now, there is a chance.
Until the stars align me with the one who will hold my hand when I am afraid, hug me when I need warmth, and love me for all I am, I will be brave and appreciate the fact that I am no longer despised, resented, and abused for it.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Empires, Family, Naked Altars, Etc Etc Etc
Updates:
Business trip last week went well
Nude altar thing went well. Really help in my healing process.
Finally got family that was visiting off to go back home.
So much going on at work.
Big business trip next week.
Thomas is wonderful, as always. As are Alpha and Awesome.
Get to hang with Gayboyfriend next week at the conference, so excited about that.
I wish I had more exciting things to say but I don't...
Promise to write more when I have time.
xxx ooo
J
Thursday, July 18, 2013
You know...
....you didn't get enough sleep when you have to read the PowerPoint slide five times because you can't figure out how the presenter (in his bio) is a velociraptor with his church ministry. THEN you realize five minutes later it says "videographer" and not "velociraptor".
Snapshot: Business Travel
A snapshot into my life. I type this as I wait for the nice lady to bring me my breakfast. I worked a full day yesterday and then saw my shrink. I then drove home, kissed P, and grabbed my suitcase and drove almost three hours to get to the hotel.
I got to the hotel at 0200, was in bed by 0230. Up at 0609, dressed/makeup/hair, out the door by 0630 on the dot. Hotel breakfast now. I'll finish in the next minute or so and the lovely people at the Courtyard Marriott have eased my way out the door by making sure my bill was updated properly with breakfast and is sitting folded neatly on the table now.
Need to grab a business card on the way out the door so I can write a nice letter to their boss and praise them.
I have to be across the street in seven minutes for my meeting so must dash.
xxx ooo
J
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Transition
Tonight, I attended a transition clinic for the next triathlon I will be in. I have never been to one before (the last one didn't have them) so I was not sure what to expect. I rather thought it would be some guy (or gal) standing there telling us the best way to set our gear up and answering questions. I noticed I had to make a reservation so I did and the email I got said to come ready to swim and ride.
?
Um. Okay.
I had some trouble on the drive over. I was feeling really good and excited until I got dressed in my bike shorts and tri top and really noticed how much I STILL do not look like a "proper athlete". I did my best to remember back to last year's and remind myself how awesome and supportive everyone was. But... I did tear up and struggle against crying all the way over to the site. I was glad I had my sunglasses on because I was really having a hard time. I got there and they were setting up the bike racks. For those not familiar with triathlons, they set up something called a "transition area" and this is where you put your bike and gear. Transition refers to the two times when you are either going from the swim to the bike or the bike to the run.
With the first one, you are soaking wet and have to get into your bike shoes, helmet, gloves, etc and then run your bike to the mounting area. When you finish the bike portion you return to the transition area to replace your bike on the rack, remove your helmet, and change shoes if you need to. Put on your race belt/number etc. Because the transition time counts in that it is added to your total time, those who are pros or racing for real aim to get their transition times LOW so it makes their overall time low. Here is a picture of a typical tri transition area:
?
Um. Okay.
I had some trouble on the drive over. I was feeling really good and excited until I got dressed in my bike shorts and tri top and really noticed how much I STILL do not look like a "proper athlete". I did my best to remember back to last year's and remind myself how awesome and supportive everyone was. But... I did tear up and struggle against crying all the way over to the site. I was glad I had my sunglasses on because I was really having a hard time. I got there and they were setting up the bike racks. For those not familiar with triathlons, they set up something called a "transition area" and this is where you put your bike and gear. Transition refers to the two times when you are either going from the swim to the bike or the bike to the run.
With the first one, you are soaking wet and have to get into your bike shoes, helmet, gloves, etc and then run your bike to the mounting area. When you finish the bike portion you return to the transition area to replace your bike on the rack, remove your helmet, and change shoes if you need to. Put on your race belt/number etc. Because the transition time counts in that it is added to your total time, those who are pros or racing for real aim to get their transition times LOW so it makes their overall time low. Here is a picture of a typical tri transition area:
Instead of just talking and answering questions, they decided they were just going to run us through it. Over and over and over and OVER again. FOR TWO HOURS.
We started by lining up at the pool and in we went. We swam 100 yards. then got out, ran to our bikes, transitioned to that gear, ran to the mounting area (they taught us how to run holding the saddle (seat) versus the handle bars), we rode a quarter mile lap of the block then dismounted and ran our bikes back to the rack, transitioned to our running stuff, ran a quarter mile lap of the block, ran back to our bikes, transitioned to our swim stuff, ran back to the pool, jumped in, swam another 100 yards then BACK out to the bikes...over and over. It was dark by the time we finished the last round. I was exhausted.
But, I felt good. I was slow but on the second to last bike lap I actually PASSED someone. On purpose :) I didn't pass her on the last lap because she was too tired and didn't ride it :) She also didn't swim two of the sets. So that made me feel good in that I was not the most out of shape person there.
As I loaded my car to leave, I thought about how much I enjoyed every miserable minute of it. Each time I rode or ran in, I was last (except that one time I was second to last) but so many of the people were supportive and they were clapping and telling me "good job". The director looked (and acted like) Robert Irvine and he seemed pleased that I didn't give up and kept a steady pace. He even asked my name. Twice. lol I am pretending it was for a good reason.
All in all, it was a great night. I am exhausted and sore and pleased that I was able to do it all tonight. I have a lot of work to do in the next month or so but I am so far ahead of where I was a few years ago.
It was hard. I was tired. I sucked SO bad. But I loved every minute of it.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
The Verdict
I remember watching the OJ verdict. I had watched the trial pretty closely as I was on the job at the time and a rookie and still learning the ropes. The OJ trial was like a primer in "what NOT to do" as you processed the crime scene. I still remember seeing them doing certain things at the scene in the news footage and slapping my palm to my head and saying, "Nooooooooooo!"
Did I feel OJ was guilty? Yup.
Did I like the verdict? Nope.
Did I UNDERSTAND IT? Yup.
Was I angry? No. Disappointed in the crime scene guys that did such a piss poor job and super not impressed with Mark Furman (sp?) but I wasn't angry. Profound disappointment, yes. But that's the system. It's why you have to be on your game and do your job and do it well. I can't tell you how many times I have documented something or proceeded with something keeping the "if this goes to court" in mind JUST IN CASE. I never want to be that person who screwed up and let the bad guy walk.
I am not going to say what my opinion is about the behavior of Martin or the behavior of Zimmerman. I honestly think it's a case of "there are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth".
But, this is what I DO think: There was a legal requirement for the jury to comply with. Not an emotional one. A LEGEL one. Just as in the OJ case, no matter how bad you thought he did it or how much you wanted to hear guilty, if you agreed with the system and the law you knew in your heart that "not guilty" was the correct verdict based on the LAW.
I understand this is an emotional hot topic.
I understand there are individuals on BOTH sides trying to stir up things.
I understand that certain .....behavior was engaged in by people involved with the prosecution that could be questioned.
I also understand that someone is dead.
What I think disappoints me the most is that the reactions I am seeing are SO violent and I do not understand why certain people scream so loud that they know for a fact what was in another person's mind and heart.
Then I stopped....
And I really looked at what they were saying.
They are filled with hate and anger.
So they assume everyone else is also.
Classic projecting.
And so many of them "god fearing Christians".
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to riot?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to loot?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to assault others?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to steal and vandalize stores that had nothing to do with this?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to hurt others out of anger?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to use this as an excuse to break any number of commandments?
I guess we shall see.
I used to say something to my youngest step son all the time. He would talk and talk and talk about how he would fix or improve his behavior but never did. I finally told him talk was cheap and I didn't want to hear it anymore. "Shut up and show me" I started to say. Anyone can make mouth noise but until you actually walk the walk, I ain't listening.
Shut up and show me.
So to all those who claim "they" aren't like "that".....all I have to say is, "Shut up and show me."
And if all you show me is a shit slinging frenzy of violence and anger and commandment breaking behavior.....then that's all you ever are and will be. Until you...
Shut up and show me.
Stop talking the talk and walk the walk.
I am so tired of all the people (and I mean every race, sex, creed, religion, gender, and insert personal variable here) I experience acting like three year old toddlers throwing tantrums when they don't get their way.
I can tell you that my number one thought when I saw the verdict (got an alert on my cell phone) was:
I AM SO GLAD I DON'T HAVE FACEBOOK!
Because now I will not be subjected to the ignorant mouth breathing masses who think they are armchair attorneys talking about this case. Screaming, ranting, raving, threatening, and tossing logic out the window like it was yesterday's baby's bathwater. Gah.
I could say I wish people would grow up, be responsible, and be logical and accept things with good grace but based on what I have seen of history I might as well as people to breath under water, fly like birds, and not blink when I throw a ball at their face.
Sigh.
Did I feel OJ was guilty? Yup.
Did I like the verdict? Nope.
Did I UNDERSTAND IT? Yup.
Was I angry? No. Disappointed in the crime scene guys that did such a piss poor job and super not impressed with Mark Furman (sp?) but I wasn't angry. Profound disappointment, yes. But that's the system. It's why you have to be on your game and do your job and do it well. I can't tell you how many times I have documented something or proceeded with something keeping the "if this goes to court" in mind JUST IN CASE. I never want to be that person who screwed up and let the bad guy walk.
I am not going to say what my opinion is about the behavior of Martin or the behavior of Zimmerman. I honestly think it's a case of "there are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth".
But, this is what I DO think: There was a legal requirement for the jury to comply with. Not an emotional one. A LEGEL one. Just as in the OJ case, no matter how bad you thought he did it or how much you wanted to hear guilty, if you agreed with the system and the law you knew in your heart that "not guilty" was the correct verdict based on the LAW.
I understand this is an emotional hot topic.
I understand there are individuals on BOTH sides trying to stir up things.
I understand that certain .....behavior was engaged in by people involved with the prosecution that could be questioned.
I also understand that someone is dead.
What I think disappoints me the most is that the reactions I am seeing are SO violent and I do not understand why certain people scream so loud that they know for a fact what was in another person's mind and heart.
Then I stopped....
And I really looked at what they were saying.
They are filled with hate and anger.
So they assume everyone else is also.
Classic projecting.
And so many of them "god fearing Christians".
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to riot?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to loot?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to assault others?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to steal and vandalize stores that had nothing to do with this?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to hurt others out of anger?
How many "god fearing Christians" are going to use this as an excuse to break any number of commandments?
I guess we shall see.
I used to say something to my youngest step son all the time. He would talk and talk and talk about how he would fix or improve his behavior but never did. I finally told him talk was cheap and I didn't want to hear it anymore. "Shut up and show me" I started to say. Anyone can make mouth noise but until you actually walk the walk, I ain't listening.
Shut up and show me.
So to all those who claim "they" aren't like "that".....all I have to say is, "Shut up and show me."
And if all you show me is a shit slinging frenzy of violence and anger and commandment breaking behavior.....then that's all you ever are and will be. Until you...
Shut up and show me.
Stop talking the talk and walk the walk.
I am so tired of all the people (and I mean every race, sex, creed, religion, gender, and insert personal variable here) I experience acting like three year old toddlers throwing tantrums when they don't get their way.
I can tell you that my number one thought when I saw the verdict (got an alert on my cell phone) was:
I AM SO GLAD I DON'T HAVE FACEBOOK!
Because now I will not be subjected to the ignorant mouth breathing masses who think they are armchair attorneys talking about this case. Screaming, ranting, raving, threatening, and tossing logic out the window like it was yesterday's baby's bathwater. Gah.
I could say I wish people would grow up, be responsible, and be logical and accept things with good grace but based on what I have seen of history I might as well as people to breath under water, fly like birds, and not blink when I throw a ball at their face.
Sigh.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Smart Women
"The problem with "smart" women is if they are in fact smart they will
never let you forget it. Living with a woman that constantly tries to
prove they are smarter than you is one of the most annoying things on
this planet. They are not worth the trouble and headache in the long
run. A "smart" woman never stops complaining how much better things
could be if she got her way. A dumb girl always has a smile on her face
and don't make life difficult." -Gruden
(Taken from the comments section of an online article I just finished reading).
No idea who this dude is but the comment could have been written by db himself. As a matter of fact, it was screamed at me pretty consistently for many years, peppered with "bitch", "cunt", "whore", and "slut".
What being smart has to do with ANY of those names was beyond me and for a while I actually tried to understand WHY he called me those names. It made no sense. Unfortunately I would look quizzical at his outburst and say,
"I am not a cunt. A cunt is something you have, not something you ARE.
I am not a whore because a whore has sex for money and as much as you'd perhaps like to think you are able to afford me, you cannot and it's proven that I have always and will always make MORE money than you so YOU are the whore IF there is, indeed, a whore present here.
I am not a slut because a slut sleeps around and with multiple men/women and you are only the second man I have ever been with or slept with...your 17 year old niece has been fucked by more men at ONE TIME than I have in my entire life so slut makes no sense.
Bitch? Okay, I can maybe own that one a little bit but all in all I still don't get the others?"
This logical Vulcan response to his hysterical and viciously angry screaming did nothing. In fact, it tended to make him angrier and more vicious and hurl the same names back at me. For a long time I was just puzzled and instead of being upset I would actually try and figure out if when he was in a better mood maybe we needed a quick vocabulary lesson so he could choose more appropriate names to call me. Silly me, I didn't realize he had no desire to be accurate or truthful, just mean and hurtful. Sigh.
My first boyfriend and I had a mutual break up and AFTER we had broken up, we were having lunch one day (we still worked together for some time and staid friends) he "confessed" to me that I had so much potential and was always going to be better than him and he didn't mind it so much now but knew he would grow to resent and hate me due to his own insecurity. A rather mature observation but I have always appreciated that he was honest with me.
And then Auburn. Auburn, Auburn, Auburn. Sigh. I thought I had hit the lotto maybe. He was an educated environmental engineer that graduated from Auburn with BOTH a Bachelors AND a Masters degree in engineering. He couldn't be a dunce AND he could not possible hate me or dislike me being smart. As Endora sometimes says, "Wrongo Toyota" (no idea where she got that from but it's sort of a family expression). Things were nice enough for about a year then I started to feel comfortable talking to him about more "intelligent" things like physics and math. BIG MISTAKE.
In a late night satellite call from Afghanistan he confesses to me that his ex wife was brilliant and ended up leaving him because he was stupid and she ran off with a professor from the local college. And he was SURE that eventually I would grow tired of him and leave him as well so it would be best if we just ended the little fledgling relationship we had been nurturing right now and avoid all that pain and heartache.
I was kind of speechless as he was assuming I would be like her but she hurt him pretty bad and knowing how bad db had hurt me I was cognizant that he was just protecting HIS heart, not trying to hurt mine. Even though it still did sort of feel like a slap in the face. He hung up. I cried. Not because I particularly loved him or really even liked him THAT much. I cried because it seemed like all my life I had spent being punished for being smart. Over and over. Teased, made fun of, excluded, picked on or just avoided. I was growing to feel like I needed to hide my intelligence to be liked.
That's a sad feeling. It's one thing to be horribly disfigured or a dreadful person or have something SO wrong with you that makes others hate you and not want to be around you but to be hated or not wanted for something that was supposed to be GOOD? What is wrong with people? This planet?
It hurts. Deeply. So many days. I have gone on date after date after date and always when I bust out my smarts they literally pull back. Whoa! No. No no no. You can see them disengage as they realize I may not be high maintenance like some dippy blonde who needs constant fawning attention and the newest hand bag RIGHT NOW! But I am high maintenance in that I need someone who can at the very least keep up with me mentally. They don't have to be better than me but at least able to vibrate within range of my frequency.
When P went on her first date with Alpha's son, a terrible thing happened. They were enjoying burgers after a movie and chatting and then he posed this question off hand and she immediately wanted to figure it out. Math was involved and I could see her trying to explain fractions to use to estimate (keep in mind she is a year younger and technically a year behind him in school) and I saw it. His little eyes just completely glazed over. She had totally lost him and I could tell he did not give one flying little fuck about this answer that she was so excited to try and figure out. He wasn't rude or mean about it but he sort of sat back and sighed and looked bored. She hopped down out of her chair and came over to me to ask me to check her math. I did. It was correct and she was so excited to have figured it out. I whispered to her to wait a sec and I almost said,
"You need to stop.... you are loosing him. He doesn't care about this and it's possible he's getting overwhelmed and perhaps slightly annoyed by your intelligence and wanting to figure it out...and he's not going to want to spend time with you if you bore him to tears or look like a smarty pants show off..."
But, I didn't.
Why should she shut up and play stupid to make a boy feel better or more happy?
And wouldn't I be a terrible mother/friend/mentor if I told her to do that?
I watched sadly as she scampered back to the table and showed him the answer and explained it and he looked like he would have rather been picking leeches off a corpse. Again, he was polite and gracious but I could tell he was done.
I won't raise my daughter to hide or downplay her intelligence. All I can do is help her wield it and understand when it might cause her issues down the road.
A few weeks later, I was driving home super late and Thomas called me as he sometimes does when I have to drive late so I don't fall asleep. I cannot recall how we got on the subject but we were discussing the Roman civilization. I pondered out loud that I wondered what the oldest civilization ever recorded was. He immediately got online and started to research it and eventually read me an article that listed the ten longest recorded ones. Some we had never heard of. This, of course prompted MORE discussion and when I got home I sat in the driveway for a while as we continued the discussion around 0200. I can say anything to Thomas. And it can be smart or intelligent. And if I tell him something he doesn't know about he asks questions and sometimes does more research. He read a paper I recently wrote and confessed sheepishly that he barely understood a word of it but he never got mad at me or hated me for it.
Sometimes I get really afraid that if I truly unleash my complete and full brilliance on him, he will leave me. Get tired of me. But he is SO SO SO smart about so many things I know nothing about that I like to think it will never be a case of one of us is smarter than the other but that we are a yin yang of intelligence. Each having a heavy background in our specialty areas and dabbling and learning from the other in theirs.
I hope.
I tell myself this.
*wipes away a tear*
I think it will crush me if I turn out wrong. I don't ever try to prove I am smarter than him. And I don't try to throw my intelligence in his face constantly. It just sometimes overflows like a melty ice cream cone on a hot day and I can't help it or stop it and so far he's the only man who has ever gleefully (and quite seductively) licked it up instead of getting annoyed and tossing me to the ground so he can go wash his hands of it.
(Taken from the comments section of an online article I just finished reading).
No idea who this dude is but the comment could have been written by db himself. As a matter of fact, it was screamed at me pretty consistently for many years, peppered with "bitch", "cunt", "whore", and "slut".
What being smart has to do with ANY of those names was beyond me and for a while I actually tried to understand WHY he called me those names. It made no sense. Unfortunately I would look quizzical at his outburst and say,
"I am not a cunt. A cunt is something you have, not something you ARE.
I am not a whore because a whore has sex for money and as much as you'd perhaps like to think you are able to afford me, you cannot and it's proven that I have always and will always make MORE money than you so YOU are the whore IF there is, indeed, a whore present here.
I am not a slut because a slut sleeps around and with multiple men/women and you are only the second man I have ever been with or slept with...your 17 year old niece has been fucked by more men at ONE TIME than I have in my entire life so slut makes no sense.
Bitch? Okay, I can maybe own that one a little bit but all in all I still don't get the others?"
This logical Vulcan response to his hysterical and viciously angry screaming did nothing. In fact, it tended to make him angrier and more vicious and hurl the same names back at me. For a long time I was just puzzled and instead of being upset I would actually try and figure out if when he was in a better mood maybe we needed a quick vocabulary lesson so he could choose more appropriate names to call me. Silly me, I didn't realize he had no desire to be accurate or truthful, just mean and hurtful. Sigh.
My first boyfriend and I had a mutual break up and AFTER we had broken up, we were having lunch one day (we still worked together for some time and staid friends) he "confessed" to me that I had so much potential and was always going to be better than him and he didn't mind it so much now but knew he would grow to resent and hate me due to his own insecurity. A rather mature observation but I have always appreciated that he was honest with me.
And then Auburn. Auburn, Auburn, Auburn. Sigh. I thought I had hit the lotto maybe. He was an educated environmental engineer that graduated from Auburn with BOTH a Bachelors AND a Masters degree in engineering. He couldn't be a dunce AND he could not possible hate me or dislike me being smart. As Endora sometimes says, "Wrongo Toyota" (no idea where she got that from but it's sort of a family expression). Things were nice enough for about a year then I started to feel comfortable talking to him about more "intelligent" things like physics and math. BIG MISTAKE.
In a late night satellite call from Afghanistan he confesses to me that his ex wife was brilliant and ended up leaving him because he was stupid and she ran off with a professor from the local college. And he was SURE that eventually I would grow tired of him and leave him as well so it would be best if we just ended the little fledgling relationship we had been nurturing right now and avoid all that pain and heartache.
I was kind of speechless as he was assuming I would be like her but she hurt him pretty bad and knowing how bad db had hurt me I was cognizant that he was just protecting HIS heart, not trying to hurt mine. Even though it still did sort of feel like a slap in the face. He hung up. I cried. Not because I particularly loved him or really even liked him THAT much. I cried because it seemed like all my life I had spent being punished for being smart. Over and over. Teased, made fun of, excluded, picked on or just avoided. I was growing to feel like I needed to hide my intelligence to be liked.
That's a sad feeling. It's one thing to be horribly disfigured or a dreadful person or have something SO wrong with you that makes others hate you and not want to be around you but to be hated or not wanted for something that was supposed to be GOOD? What is wrong with people? This planet?
It hurts. Deeply. So many days. I have gone on date after date after date and always when I bust out my smarts they literally pull back. Whoa! No. No no no. You can see them disengage as they realize I may not be high maintenance like some dippy blonde who needs constant fawning attention and the newest hand bag RIGHT NOW! But I am high maintenance in that I need someone who can at the very least keep up with me mentally. They don't have to be better than me but at least able to vibrate within range of my frequency.
When P went on her first date with Alpha's son, a terrible thing happened. They were enjoying burgers after a movie and chatting and then he posed this question off hand and she immediately wanted to figure it out. Math was involved and I could see her trying to explain fractions to use to estimate (keep in mind she is a year younger and technically a year behind him in school) and I saw it. His little eyes just completely glazed over. She had totally lost him and I could tell he did not give one flying little fuck about this answer that she was so excited to try and figure out. He wasn't rude or mean about it but he sort of sat back and sighed and looked bored. She hopped down out of her chair and came over to me to ask me to check her math. I did. It was correct and she was so excited to have figured it out. I whispered to her to wait a sec and I almost said,
"You need to stop.... you are loosing him. He doesn't care about this and it's possible he's getting overwhelmed and perhaps slightly annoyed by your intelligence and wanting to figure it out...and he's not going to want to spend time with you if you bore him to tears or look like a smarty pants show off..."
But, I didn't.
Why should she shut up and play stupid to make a boy feel better or more happy?
And wouldn't I be a terrible mother/friend/mentor if I told her to do that?
I watched sadly as she scampered back to the table and showed him the answer and explained it and he looked like he would have rather been picking leeches off a corpse. Again, he was polite and gracious but I could tell he was done.
I won't raise my daughter to hide or downplay her intelligence. All I can do is help her wield it and understand when it might cause her issues down the road.
A few weeks later, I was driving home super late and Thomas called me as he sometimes does when I have to drive late so I don't fall asleep. I cannot recall how we got on the subject but we were discussing the Roman civilization. I pondered out loud that I wondered what the oldest civilization ever recorded was. He immediately got online and started to research it and eventually read me an article that listed the ten longest recorded ones. Some we had never heard of. This, of course prompted MORE discussion and when I got home I sat in the driveway for a while as we continued the discussion around 0200. I can say anything to Thomas. And it can be smart or intelligent. And if I tell him something he doesn't know about he asks questions and sometimes does more research. He read a paper I recently wrote and confessed sheepishly that he barely understood a word of it but he never got mad at me or hated me for it.
Sometimes I get really afraid that if I truly unleash my complete and full brilliance on him, he will leave me. Get tired of me. But he is SO SO SO smart about so many things I know nothing about that I like to think it will never be a case of one of us is smarter than the other but that we are a yin yang of intelligence. Each having a heavy background in our specialty areas and dabbling and learning from the other in theirs.
I hope.
I tell myself this.
*wipes away a tear*
I think it will crush me if I turn out wrong. I don't ever try to prove I am smarter than him. And I don't try to throw my intelligence in his face constantly. It just sometimes overflows like a melty ice cream cone on a hot day and I can't help it or stop it and so far he's the only man who has ever gleefully (and quite seductively) licked it up instead of getting annoyed and tossing me to the ground so he can go wash his hands of it.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Discipline
This was one of those nights I was looking for ANY excuse to skip the gym. Tummy hurt from eating too much salad lately :( Forced myself to drive an hour and quite literally dragged myself in anyway. Hated every moment until I finished my first set of lifts.
All better now :)
Saturday, July 6, 2013
4th of July and More
Wow. Been so busy. I'm actually not sure how long it's been since I deleted Facebook but I've been so busy I haven't missed it.
Had a wonderful 4th of July. We had Leo and Piper over plus Piper's mom, whom we adore. We made sliders with pancetta instead of bacon as I like the way pancetta cooks in those perfectly darling little rounds that fit exactly on a slider.
Of course, I had to make a scrumptious dessert so I tried a new recipe for White Chocolate Cheesecake by combining a few different recipes I had found into my own unique concoction. It was delicious but terribly rich, while I enjoyed the little slice I had.... I ended up giving the rest to our neighbor when he brought over some fresh baked bread from the pizza oven in his back yard.
Here is a photo of the cheesecake... We decorated the table that evening with the last of the magnolias from the tree in the yard.
That's fresh whipped cream on top and I made a mixed berry sauce that I laid each slice on:
This last week has been super busy. I made a commitment to get up early each morning and run. P decided to join me so it's been nice to have a buddy. We punctuate the runs by stopping to view the herds of deer along side the road and all the baby bunnies that seem to like to nibble grass at that time of morning. I'm proud to say that we ran each morning except the 4th (I allowed myself a sleep in rest day). On the 4th, we drove the bike course for next month's triathlon. This one is one mile longer but looks a lot more manageable than last year's "hillacious" course (that's a new word coined by Thomas).
This week, I have house guests headed in towards the end of the week. More family and their four grandchildren. My Aunt has requested a spice cake with caramel frosting for her birthday while she is here so I am working on pulling together a good recipe for that. Alpha and I have a lunch date. P is getting a break between horseback riding and golf lessons. Prepping for a big business trip at the end of the month where I'll get to see gay boyfriend.
I've had good days and bad. When Piper got here on Thursday I saw she had hacked HER beautiful long blonde hair off, too. I made a silly joke about how she must be trying to copy me because mine looks SO sexy and she said that actually, yes, she had liked mine so much she had cut hers. I got tears in my eyes that she said such a kind thing to me.
The only other challenge is that for P's bday, she insisted on looking through the scrapbook from when she was born. There are still pics of db in there and while it didn't seem to bother her at the time, for a few days after, she was anxious and burst out into tears because she was afraid he was going to come back and "get" us. She was actually worried he was going to punch her teeth out? Wow. No idea where that came from... Thomas told her if he tried that he would personally bust db's head open and that seemed to help her and I spent that night holding her in my arms and letting her cry and shake. By morning, it seemed to have passed and she has been fine the last few days. She has no idea he got remarried and after significant discussion not only with my shrink but multiple mentors, everyone seems to be in agreement that I am not obligated to tell her. I haven't even told Endora and Merlin, mostly because I don't trust them to keep their mouth shut around her and not to let it slip but also because they will barrage me with questions and comments and if they see what his new wife looks like, Endora will spend the rest of her life making obnoxious comments about it. It's not so much that I care about an obnoxious comment but its done, I learned something important by seeing what he did to her....case closed. Also, the shrink pointed out that db didn't inform me nor his daughter (this birthday also passed without a single card, gift, call, text, email of any kind) then "technically" I don't know and wouldn't know if that friend hadn't mentioned it. Shrink says to take the lesson learned as a gift and move on ...which I am happy to do but if I tell Endora then I will never hear the end of it. So. I think it's best for all concerned that I just pretend I don't know and never did.
I can always re-evaluate the situation at a later date but after she got so upset just seeing his face in the scrapbook, I'm not sure it's a good idea.
Sigh. Anyway. It's late. I've been in a cleaning and organizing frenzy so have spent the last few hours ironing and reorganizing my linen closet while we watch telly with Thomas. P's asleep and I think it's time to crawl in bed and get some sleep before we get up early to grocery shop and I'm riding the Tri course tomorrow for the first time for practice.
Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! I'll close with a photo I took at the end of the driveway the morning after the 4th when P and I set out for our run. I call it, "The Morning After".
xxx ooo
J
Monday, July 1, 2013
Plus ....Six!
Today, I started my new training regime. After months of being lazy due to school and some huge stuff at work then the beach and back to work with more huge stuff, I put my foot down and promised myself no more slacking.
Training consists of:
1. Posting on my blog each day what I did either as part of a larger post or just one sentence on it's own. Psychological accountability.
2. Set the alarm two hours earlier in the morning so I can get up and run in the coolness of predawn. Bonus: P decided she was coming with me each morning so I have a buddy.
3. Recommitted to my nutrition. Not too hard because I haven't been too bad for the most part but really trying to tighten it up to be even better.
My week looks like this:
Sunday: Swim and either run or ride that part of the tri course.
Monday: AM run, PM lift with Awesome
Tuesday: AM run
Wednesday: AM run
Thursday: AM run
Friday: AM run, PM lift and spin
Saturday: AM run and lift
And now for my wowzer story for tonight:
A month or so ago, I was doing back squats with the big bar plus two ten pound plates and Awesome goes and adds a five pound plate to each side. It psyched me out and I couldn't do it. He made me put the bar back before I even tried one. I hated myself for that so made a promise to myself that next time he put them on I'd do it. And he never did. Until tonight.
He slipped them on after the first set with the tens and I was nervous but I did it. THEN he put two more on and I went ahead and knocked them out before I got afraid. I teared up a little that I did that. Figured he'd stop there. THEN the fucker put TWO more on! WTF Over?
I was totally psyched out looking at the bar with EIGHT plates on it when before tonight the most I'd done was two. He saw it in my face and talked to me calm and gentle. He said he knew I could do it. I had tears rolling down my face.
No. I couldn't. That was too much.
I tried and did a few okay ones but not all the way down like he wanted.
I racked the bar and stood there with tears rolling down my cheeks feeling fat and stupid and incapable. He kept talking. He had NO doubt I could do it. I had every doubt I could. He said we were going to do it again and nail it.
I moved under the bar and stood up until I could feel it across my shoulders. I took a deep breath, tears still rolling down my cheeks, and stood all the way up to unseat the bar from the rack and took a step back, balancing it on my shoulders.
I took another step back until the small medicine ball was centered between my legs. He makes me squat until my butt touches it to make sure I get deep and consistent. He continued his words of encouragement. I took a deep breath and squatted. All the way down until I felt the ball touch my crotch... Then I stood up and let my breath out in a gush as I hit the top. He exclaimed it was perfect and I took another deep breath and did it again. And again and again and again. Perfect each time.
He was so proud. I stepped forward to rack the bar and then ducked my head and started to cry.
I did it.
I was so overwhelmed at that moment.
It made me think of this picture:
I certainly blew my own damn mind tonight.
I'll close with a candid shot of my dinner. Leftover Hummus Crusted Chicken and Salad. Out of a plastic container, overlooking the sink behind the smoothie bar at the gym. I woke up early and ran then lifted tonight and ate properly all day while working and balancing life.
If I can do it, so can you.
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