Breaking Mommy Dearest - Afterthoughts

In summary -

• My mother truly is an amazing woman.  She is strong, both physically and mentally, sometimes painstakingly so.  She's smart, beautiful, and has proved time and time again that she would do anything for her children.
• She only wishes the best for my brother and I and to see us succeed in life, love and the pursuit of happiness.
• But I've come to realize that our versions of life, love and the pursuit of happiness are going to be radically different and that is okay.
• I'm learning to apply the advice that my brother gives me on an at least weekly basis - Don't let it get to you.  Whenever she starts in on you, just let it roll off of your shoulders.  (Hence why he has managed to not lose his mind or his temper during the times she's being insufferable.)
• I can't change her, I can only adapt my attitude in order to make my own life a little less guilt-ridden or aggravating.

So there we have it.  It's going to be a long, tough road but it's one I'm willing to take because I never want to reach the point where I end up resenting my own mother.  I never want to move far away just to get away from family.  I never want to purposely ignore her phone calls or be one of those people that only speaks to their mother very seldom.  She is my best friend and I don't want that to change, so I have to let her be her E-Bomb self while I remain my own self.

Maybe things will change if I get married one day.  Maybe things will change if I have my own children one day.  But until then, I'm going to fight back and defend myself when the situation calls for it.  (Ironically this is probably the "secret" part of E-Bomb's relationship with her own mother that she has kept from me, for reasons wholly unknown, but it makes sense.)  Maybe it will affect other areas of my life in a positive way, maybe it won't.  Only time will tell.

        

Breaking Mommy Dearest - Moving Forward

So I've spent the last two weeks analyzing my relationship with E-Bomb.  She has no idea what's been on my mind because, well - Get over it.  Stop analyzing it.  There's nothing wrong here.  Maybe I haven't come to any real conclusions or solutions to my little problem, but it has given me insight on moving forward and the future of our relationship.
I am saddened by the fact that things have to change, something has to give and I have to be the one to initiate it.  She is too stubborn, she is set in her ways and like I've mentioned before, I don't have the energy or patience or even the will to change her.  She's made her choices, she's established who she is in the 50+ years she has spent on this earth.  Now it's time for me to make my choices and to establish who I am because I'm already 30 years behind.
The one conclusion all of us have come to is that deep down, E-Bomb is sullen because she's lonely.  But that won't change if she doesn't change (We have all noted at one time or another that she's not going to find anyone if she doesn't become a little more open minded and she has proven time and time again that she refuses to.) 
If she wants to find a companion to live out the rest of her time with, then it's on her.  I'm putting down the burden of trying to explain how things work these days.  I can't help that she spent half of her life married to my father and that she endured more emotional abuse than I want to even think about.  They had been separated for four years and Pop has been gone for three.  She claims she is ready to move on with her life, but her feet are encased in emotional concrete.  If her own children, her own siblings or her own friends can't help set  her free, then obviously it's left up to her.  We've done all we can.
All I want is to see my mother happy.  She can claim her life is grand until she's blue in the face, she can continue to hide her true feelings and emotions all she wants, but we all know she feels something lacking.  And there's nothing we can do about it.  I cringe every time I hear her say to a friend, "Don't they know anyone who's single?"  I cringe because even if they did, that person would not live up to her standards.  No one can, and until she realizes that things are a lot different these days - that people as a whole have adapted to changes in society and have learned to accept the bad along with the good, she's going to remain lonely. Her knight in shining armor is not going to knock on the door on a weeknight while she's sitting at home.

     

Memorial Day Weekend 2014

"I think the guy broke my tooth."
"Really, sweetheart, you'd drink your own piss?"
"I would!  It could save your life!"
"We're in Dewey Beach, not on survivor."
"Yeah so the guy's passed out right where the dog takes her shits and he's got a turd stuck to his face."
"Why would you walk around wearing a shirt that says "I Heart BJs?"  I mean, you don't see me walking around in a shirt that says "I Heart Sitting On Your Face."  I think it's implied."
"My worlds are colliding!"  
"See?!  I have friends!  They've got my back!"

"I have decided that my future kids will attend Notre Dame."
"You just flashed me your kitty."
"This doesn't suck."
"Ugh, why did I just post a picture of Bruce the Shark on Philip's Facebook wall?"
"Yeah, I'm a pretty hostile sleeper, sorry about that."
"He just let me grope his junk."
"The devil landed Friday at sunset."
"Look, the people in line are getting pissed that Poppa's making our pizza while we're standing here in the kitchen."

"Girls, girls.  Don't waste your time with boys right now because they have no idea what they're doing.  It gets better, trust me.  It gets wayyyyy better."






I carried the thought that the reason we all are blessed enough to have been there that weekend was only because of the brave men and women who have fought for our country.  Among the camaraderie and the American flags flying high everywhere you looked, there was the somber moment when I got the opportunity to shake the hand of an active member of the United States Army in the middle of the Starboard on Memorial Day.
"This is my friend who got home in February from his second tour in the Middle East."
"Thank you for serving our country."

Breaking Mommy Dearest - Would You Like Some Guilt With That?

Get over it.
Stop over-analyzing it.
Move on.
These are the responses I get from E-Bomb whenever I try to talk to her about any type of issue I may be having at a particular moment.  Ma sees the world in black and white, I see it in every shade of the color spectrum and am persecuted because of that - something I have no control over.  I concern myself with the hows and whys of a human being's behavior and finding a reason behind it.  Ma - not so much.  I also am passionate about the arts, about reading, music, I love to shower those I love with attention and affection.  Again, Ma - not so much.  She teases me about how worked up I get over a good book, she criticizes me for wanting to do little things for whoever I may be dating at the time because to her he's not worth it or good enough.
It sucks because I've come to realize I've spent my entire life walking on eggshells.  Instead of focusing on myself in order to live up to my own full potential, every decision I make comes with the thought, "Ugh, what is Ma going to think?"  Now, I know she supports me and any endeavors I choose one hundred percent, like when I decided to go back to school, when I decided to switch careers, things like that.  IT'S THE STUPID, TRIVIAL SHIT THAT GIVES ME PANIC ATTACKS.  
Oh, my God I didn't have time to cut the grass.
Shit, I took a nap this afternoon, I'm going to hear about it.
Is the house clean enough?
Even when I was away over Memorial Day weekend this line of thinking wouldn't disperse completely.  Following me everywhere I went was the nagging little thought that my mother was pissy about me going to the beach, even though she never gave me any reason to feel that way.  I felt guilty about not being at home to help pull out the deck furniture and finish getting the backyard ready for summer, even though I never once heard "It would have been nice if you were there to help," and I was shocked.
Mother's Day was a nightmare.  I had wanted to make her brunch since I had concert tickets that evening, (which I had told her about the night I ordered them,) but she decided she wanted the pool opened that day.  When she emailed me her plans to have the guy come out around noon, I responded that it was fine, but it nullified any plans my brother and I may have had since I wouldn't be around that evening.  Her response back led me to believe it was no big deal; she didn't really care.  Something along the lines of, "Oh, you guys don't need to do that."
So where she got the idea that I was going to cook dinner that night is beyond me.  A whole scene erupted in the garage in front of Philip and my next door neighbor, nothing short of Ma throwing the back of her hand up to her forehead and saying, "Woe is me, my children do not love me enough to cook me dinner on Mother's Day."  (I must note here that it was after my brother rebuilt the retaining wall behind the pool and Philip and I had turned over the entire length of the flowerbeds to prepare them for planting, which is what she wanted.)  I had to walk away.  Later on in the car on the way to Philadelphia, Philip remarked that while we were all standing in the garage listening to my mother cut me off at the knees he was wishing that he was married to me so he could appropriately come to my defense.
And I balked a little bit of course because he said the M-word, but mostly because E-Bomb does not handle criticism well.  At all.  Even if it's constructive.  Even if it's in an attempt to make her realize that she talks to (at) her adult daughter as if she were still a child.  But it made me sad to think that a man who cares so much about me feels he needs to defend me against my own mother.      
I didn't want to tell her that next Saturday I will be attending a birthday party for one of Philip's nieces, even though he's not in town.  His sister invited me and I thought that was very sweet of her.
"Next Saturday I want to finish the flowerbeds."
"Ma, I told you, I have to work in the morning and am going to a birthday party afterwards."
She makes her little snippy noise.  "Why are you even going to that party?"
Instead of defending my decision, I snapped right back.  "You know, I wasn't even going to tell you."  And she shut right up.
So is this how it's going to be?  I have to close most of my life off to her so as to avoid being made to feel like shit?  I was always so proud of how close her and I were, how I always made a point to fill my mother in on what goes on in my life and it used to be a good thing.  Now all it does is cause tidal waves of guilt to wash over me and aggravation beyond belief.

Breaking Mommy Dearest - Chipping at the Walls

"...Yet she her feet still hit the ground every morning.  She kept her head up.  Her faith remained strong, when most would have thrown their hands up in despair and given up.  If she did any of that, my brother never knew or witnessed any of it."
This brings me to the difficulty I have in getting my mother to open up about what's going on inside her head at any given time and why I have such a hard opening up to her.  This past weekend I had the opportunity to have a few heart-to-hearts with one of my aunts during some breaks in the craziness that is Dewey Beach during Memorial Day Weekend.  I can talk about anything and everything with my aunt.  She's the youngest of my mother's siblings (her and my mother are 10+ years apart,) and helps give me insight as to why Ma is the way she is.  Although sometimes, both of us can end up at loss.
I've come to the conclusion that it's because of the ripple effect, as is common with just about every family.  My aunt had her two older sisters to discuss "sensitive" stuff with; she didn't go to my grandmother and I can only assume that my aunts are the ones I go to when I'm in the same situation because I don't have any older sisters.  Ma has continued much in the same fashion as her own mother as far as keeping her feelings to herself and not really wanting to know much about her own kids'.  Every time I try to share what's going on in my head, Ma can be downright insufferable, sometimes to the point of attacking me verbally for feeling the way I do about particular things.
I wish it weren't like this.  I've been trying to focus on the pleasure the little things in life give me (like a good book, a song that gives me goosebumps, sweet things Philip does for me or says to me.)  I wish I could share these things with my mother and get an equally excited response from her.  But I can't because, let's face it - I don't think she ever really cares.
I do want to chip away at her tough exterior but I get exhausted just thinking about the energy it would require.  I don't want to break her completely, I just want to see that she is capable of bending.  It wouldn't make just my life a little easier, but plenty of others as well.

Breaking Mommy Dearest - Starting From the Beginning

This brings me to my first set of points.
"...so I can only imagine that they were an even more amazing set of parents to my mother and her siblings."  It's common knowledge that the relationships people have with their grandchildren are completely different than those they had with their own children when they were young.  I would balk at stories of MomMom being on the warpath because I could not imagine my sweet, chunky, salt-and-pepper-haired Italian MomMom with the singsong voice being a tyrant.  (Ironic because I threw "Italian" in there...)  But as I got older I started to get it, obviously.  And now that I have "grown up" conversations with my aunts, I learned that MomMom wasn't always sweet and may not have always spoken in a singsong voice.  Well, okay.  There's a rumor that my own mother was a bit of a troublemaker, and everyone knows that my youngest aunt was a hell of a troublemaker - to this day she claims that she learned it all from my mother.  (Yeah, that's still very, very hard for me to believe.)  
Anyway, my mother isn't the "sharing" type.*  Her personal feelings are usually pretty closed off, unless you get her mad as hell and then the whole neighborhood learns just how she's feeling.  Getting my mother to open up is like pulling teeth.  I want to know the intimate details of her relationship with her mother growing up because, dammit, maybe it would give me some insight as to how to deal with her in her role as a mother of two adults and the grandmother of my nephew.
And the light bulb just went off over my head.
My aunts will open up to me.  They don't sugar coat anything.  My first plan of attack has been laid out for me and I didn't even see it until just now.  (I knew there was a reason I decided to write this all out.)  They know my mother better than I ever will, and they haven't built up walls as tough as the ones my mother surrounds herself with.
Maybe I can prod my youngest aunt a bit while we're at the beach this weekend....

PopPop & MomMom, 1974, Ma, 1974 (?), and me, 2012

Breaking Mommy Dearest - She's My Best Friend

Yes, I am one of those girls who considers her mother her best friend.  Maybe more so than most because I live with the woman.  How have I managed to never completely desert the nest?  Well, it's really my own fault because I screwed up my financial situation and am still in the process of repairing it, thankfully getting closer to the light at the end of the tunnel with each passing month.
Anyway, I'm incredibly lucky that at age 30 and still living under the same roof as my mother is not so bad.  Usually.  The way it has typically worked in our family is that the kids move back home after college, enter into their own relationships, eventually get married and move out.
Que the old joke about Italian children living in their parents' basement until the age of 40.
Okay so, it happened for my cousin, the oldest of the bunch.  She moved home after college, within a few years married her sweetheart, moved out and begin building her own life.  Same with my brother.  He bought a house not long after school and within a few years married his sweetheart and began building his own life.  And then there's me.  I broke up with my sweetheart when we were on the cusp of getting engaged and any dreams I had of moving out of my childhood home were put on hold for an indefinite amount of time.  Just how indefinite never really occurred to me.*
Anyway, once I got my shit together and made a giant effort to calm down with the destructive behavior I was engaging in, Ma and I grew closer than ever, especially after Pop died.  I would tell her (just about) everything.  She would hold me as I cried over a broken heart.  We leave each other notes in morning just to say have a good day.  She nursed me back to health when I broke my sternum, when I had walking pneumonia, when I had the flu.  I give her pedicures, surprise her with elaborate home cooked meals when I have a day off.  She is the queen of the little things - chores or tasks that are so embedded in our brains that we don't usually think twice about them, so I make it a point to do all of those little things - taking out the trash, cleaning the upstairs of the house, picking up milk, etc.  We vent to each other when we have rough days at work or triumphant ones, we play fashion consultant if one of us isn't sure about an outfit we're going to wear out.  Just the other day that woman spent a half an hour trying to dig out a splinter that was buried almost an inch deep in the ball of my left foot.  If that's not love, I don't know what is.  
But now I feel the tables turning and I'm pulling away.  At first I didn't understand why, but it's beginning to dawn on me...*
Over the years, it has worked out.  I've been by my mother's side through everything.  For a while it was us against the world - my father had moved out and my brother was busy with his own growing family.  We came dangerously close to losing the house.  If something broke, guess who fixed it?  There was no man out cutting our lawn or taking care of the pool, shoveling our driveway, among other things.  Whatever, no big deal because bitches get shit done, right?  Ma and I bonded over these kinds of things.
Now that I am finally coming close to truly establishing my own identity, (can we say late bloomer?) Ma and I have begun to butt heads.  We are two very different people, regardless of much we look alike.  Our mantras, our outlook on life, love, sex, politics - so incredibly different...

Ma and I, Thanksgiving 2013

Breaking Mommy Dearest - A Back Story of Sorts

I don't remember my mother always having a damn near insufferable attitude, but then I think back on all she has been through in her life.  The woman is tough as nails - at least I like to believe so - despite the emotional and physical trauma she has endured.  [I'm going to do my best to be discreet out of respect for her private life and not go into gory detail of some events.  Just trust me when I say, things got bad for a while.] 

MomMom & PopPop, circa 1950s

She was 41 when her father succumbed to leukemia.  Eight years later her mother lost a short battle with pancreatic cancer (MomMom was officially diagnosed on Ma's birthday and passed away less than three months later.)  Now I know that I was blessed with the most amazing set of maternal grandparents EVER.  They were involved in every aspect of their grandchildren's lives, showered us with affection and disciplined us when need be (i.e. if Ma wasn't around.)  I could go on and on about how awesome they were but that would take days, even months.  So I can only imagine that they were an even more amazing set of parents to my mother and her siblings.*
Throughout my childhood Ma was in the hospital every other year for various operations, the biggest one coming to mind the total knee replacement she had while she was still in her early forties - unheard of at the time.  Not to mention that, well, she raised my brother and I as her marriage became a constant state of falling apart while my brother and I were still in elementary school.
So she's been through all of this shit - losing both of her parents at a relatively early age, enduring more physical pain than anyone should ever have to for an ungodly amount of time - with barely a complaint, mind you - while doing everything she could to salvage her marriage to the man she loved.
For simplicity's sake, I'll say this all took place over a fifteen year span.  The shit hit the fan with my father when I was 11, PopPop died when I was 13, the shit continued to hit the fan with Pop all through my high school and college years, MomMom died when I was 21, and Ma finally told Pop to file divorce papers when I was maybe 23, Ma's knee problems, back problems, and weight problems ensuing the entire time.  Yet she her feet still hit the ground every morning.  She kept her head up.  Her faith remained strong, when most would have thrown their hands up in despair and given up.  If she did any of that, my brother never knew or witnessed any of it.*
Then, three years ago, we got the 4 AM phone call that no one should ever receive.  Pop had been in a car accident and didn't survive.  I'm not going to go into the sordid details of this tragedy.  All I am going to say is that in the blurry nightmare following my father's death, I learned just how much Ma still loved him.*

My college graduation, circa 2003.

Breaking Mommy Dearest - A Prologue

So Philip left for his month-long road trip, his walkabout if you will, last Thursday.  He's off the grid, by choice and I'm hating it, but I get it.  The night before he left, I stuffed a card for him to find into one of his tubs packed for the trip -
"I have come to learn - and respect - how much this trip means to you.  I wish you an amazing journey and hope that you find whatever it is you're looking for and that you are returned safely home.  I will be here when you get back.  I love you, Philip."  [sic]
A picture of the front of the card made it into his daily post as he was leaving New Orleans (how appropriate) on his way to Texas and it made me smile.
Anyway, I said all of that to say this.  Since he won't be back until mid-June, I have a bit more free time on my hands.  Not much, but enough to do a little self-searching of my own, albeit from the comfort of my hometown.  For a while I was wondering just what it was that I could focus on in order to take my mind off of him not being around and then it hit me like a ton of bricks - how about I work on my relationship with my mother?  
You see, my relationship with E-Bomb is probably what most would consider atypical and the next few posts are going to be dedicated to figuring out why I'm beginning to feel resentful towards her.  I'm hoping, through this little exercise of mine, to find a way to prevent this problem from getting out of control and get my relationship with her back on a healthy level.
Love her to pieces, but right now she's driving me crazy.

Ma and I at the family reunion, August 2013

Points that I will address in following posts will be marked with asterisks.

Stay tuned...

311 Day 2014

How does one describe one of the best experiences of their lives?
My brother and I just got back from four days in New Orleans where we did nothing but celebrate peace, love, unity and beers the size of our heads.  Thousands of 311 fans from every state in the US and something like 18 different countries descended on the town for the infamous 311 Day festivities and friendships were forged between members of the 311 Familia that will last a lifetime.  The best part was that my brother had the opportunity to experience it as well.
We landed late that Sunday morning, dropped our bags off at the hotel on St.  Charles Avenue, and walked about three blocks to what was to become our favorite day time bar, a place called Lucky's where you could have a drink, grab something to eat or do your laundry.  (A brilliant concept in my opinion.)  From there we walked around the town, killing time before we could check into our hotel, then stopped for beer and some amazing fish tacos at a place appropriately called Beer and Tacos.

My brother and I on Bourbon Street.

Once we sated our appetites, we got cleaned up and took the trolley halfway across town to meet up with my cruise buddies at the house they were staying in.  How awesome it was to be reunited with the people I shared yet another amazing experience - the 311 cruise last year - with.  We then headed to Bourbon Street and partied the night away.
It's really hard to describe the feeling of elation as you walk through the streets of an amazing town, waving at, saluting, and exchanging a "Happy 311 Day!" with complete strangers.  It kind of reminds you that there is still good in this world.  The fact that five guys from Omaha have put their heart and soul for the past twenty years into creating music that spreads the message of peace, love and unity just blows my mind.  And they're not finished yet.

Hammie and I with my cruise buds.

We must have waited in line to check out the merchandise for four or five hours on that Monday, but did we
really care?  No, because we were with like minded folks.  When drinks needed refilling someone would volunteer to step into the nearest bar.  When someone needed something to eat, another would accompany them to the nearest eatery to satisfy their hunger.  We laughed, we got to know total strangers, and had a damn good time.  We met people from all over the country - it was basically a giant tailgate minus the cars.
Bourbon Street was in a constant state of "Stay positive and love your life!" during our time there.  You could hear 311's music being cranked out of every bar you walked by - to me, that's a little slice of heaven.
Why?  You may ask.  What's so special about this silly band?  I can't really explain.  It's a passion for most of us.  Some get it, some don't.  Everyone who knows me says they think of me whenever they hear 311 on the radio.  Just last night Philip texted me to tell me that he was thinking of me while shooting pool and so he played Don't Stay Home on the bar's jukebox.

Homemade shirts are the way to go.

The concert at the New Orleans Arena on March 11 was nothing short of extraordinary.  The band played three sets totaling five hours and 66 songs, at times accompanied by either native jazz musicians or a small orchestra.  I don't know of many artists that do that for their fans anymore.
I plan on keeping this experience I was blessed enough to have tucked deep inside my heart for the rest of my life, and look forward to many more like it....I should probably open up a new savings account titled "The 311 Experience," being as that I will be on the boat again come 2015.    

Leave It To Music To Soothe The Soul

I'm still coming down from my trip to New Orleans and let me tell you, the drop has been pretty brutal.  [I'm working on a recap post so stay tuned for that.]  In the months leading up to my trip, it was the One Big Thing I was looking forward to, and now that it's over, I need something else to Look Forward To, but I don't want to live my life that way.  I want to look forward to every new day.  I want to completely immerse myself in the present moment and squeeze every bit of joy possible out of it.  I see so many others capable of this, so why is it so hard for me?

We don't want to walk into the gray, solo rolling with no map in hand
so we reach out for someone to grasp, keep from sinking into the sand
Pick it up now brother help another pick it up
don't get stuck in the destruction looming near
pick it up now brother help another pick it up
This is the revelation of the year
Picking up all the pieces here and there to see if one might fit
Spinning them around and sideways and up and down it kinda stings a bit
Digging through all the ditches
Just unwinding all the stitches into thread then hang it out to dry so
what was I expecting just collecting balls of lint up in my head?
I know I know don't yell at me
- Revelation of the Year, 311

Right now, all that runs through my head has so much more to do with things other than Philip.  The constant struggle I feel is an existential reverberation of life.  I know it doesn't have to be that way so I need to make some choices to remedy this problem, because I'm missing out on so much.  You know how some people are functioning alcoholics?  Well, I'm a functioning depressive.  I get out of bed and go to work every day, I do laugh, I do smile, I do enjoy the blessings I'm lucky enough to have bestowed upon me.  But those demons are always in the back of my head waiting for a moment of weakness so they can attack.  Those moments come in the hour before daybreak when my brain hasn't fully woken up yet.  Sometimes they hit in the midst of reverie, but it's usually before the sun has come up that the waves of desolation sweep over me.
There are things I do have on my side - I have God, my family, my friends, and believe it or not, the music of 311.  Their new album has hit home.  The chatter going around social media is how personal the new songs are, and I'm right there in agreement.

Every time I think I've got it figured 
something bigger always jumps in the frame
something gets in the way
Now I'm ready to turn the page on yesterdays and forgive them
Now I'm ready to disengage to seize the day and move on.
-Boom Shanka

I'm getting better at reminding myself to
Try not to think too far ahead
The pendulum swings soon enough
We could stay on this side instead
But we wanna make it rough

But the kicker is teaching myself to
Journey in peace now
You don't have to be afraid
Though mistakes
they will be made
Journey in peace now my friend

No you can't go around it
You have to walk right through it
My father told me that so long ago
Every time that you ignore it
It gets a little more
You just have to walk toward 
The fear to go

Don't be afraid
it's all part of the plan for us
Don't be afraid
it's all part of the plan for us
All that you hold dear
is on the other side of that fear.

Still Writing For My Life

My anxiety level has been incredibly high over the past several days for quite a few reasons, but I'm doing a pretty good job of not letting it paralyze me.  So, go me.  Some of the reasons are self-inflicted [well, isn't all anxiety pretty much self-inflicted?] like my constant over analyzing of whatever the hell is going on between Philip and I right now.  Most are environmental - stress over money, stress over the wedding I'm participating in, other friends that are presently dealing with life-altering career decisions, friends and close family members dealing with life-altering situations concerning relationships.  Monday was three years since my father died, and I found out that morning that a close friend's father passed away suddenly the day before.
Last Friday afternoon I took a second to scribble some notes in my journal to try to help me sort my thoughts.  I listed the things that are bothering me right now, then listed how I can cope with them in positive ways.  In short,

• Regarding Philip - It is out of my control, therefore I have to stop letting the questions that plague me [What is he doing at this moment?  What's going to happen between us?  Does he still miss me?  Care about me?  Did he cut his ex out of his life yet?  Is he sleeping with other people already?  What if I had done this?  What if I had said that?] consume my mind, because regardless of whatever the answers may be, I have no control over them.  I have to Let It Be.  
• Regarding financial stress - Work is picking back up already and the winter will [hopefully] be over soon.  My paychecks will return to normal.  My bills are paid, and I can't ask for much more than that.
• This wedding thing...ugh.  I'll reserve that rant for a whole separate post.  Let's just say I highly doubt I'll ever agree to be in another one unless it's for a family member or a close friend.  But it'll all work out.

Once I got all of that out of my system, I felt better.  On Saturday I was telling a friend about what I had done, and she texted me Tuesday morning to see how I was doing and inform me that I had inspired her to do the same thing - she wrote down all of of her anxieties, took a figurative step back, and was able to pinpoint the cause of the worst of them, therefore allowing her to focus on making changes so that her quality of life can improve.  It just goes to reiterate the point I am always trying to make - writing is cathartic and good for the soul.

Right now it's a matter of going back and applying the advice I give myself and praying that all will be well in the end.  

Relationships Never Get Easier, They Just Drive You A Little More Crazy

So my best friend of twenty years, Andrea, and I are going though some major relationship bullshit.  You know how I now it's major?  We're not really that young anymore.  Her and I both have run the gauntlet.  (Maybe her a little more than I; she's got a beautiful five year old daughter that I absolutely adore.)  Regardless, we've seen each other through some cruddy times when it comes the end of our relationships with men.
I remember consoling each other after middle and high school breakups, and I sometimes wish we could go back to those simpler times.  In college, life (and relationships) got a little more intense for both of us, and I remember when she broke up with her high school sweetheart.  It was like the end of the world, and I was almost as devastated as she was.  I remember thinking "If they didn't make it, is there hope for any of us?"  How foolish I was.
When I was about 18, the shit hit the fan with the guy I had fallen for, the one I crushed on my entire senior year of high school.  I had a mental breakdown in our friend Dara's parents' kitchen, and Andrea was right there counseling me and doing what best friends do.  Granted, the guy overcame whatever obstacles he had been facing at the time and we ended up together for five years.
Fast forward to our mid-twenties - Andrea was getting married as I was breaking up with the guy I thought I wanted to marry.  She and another close friend of ours were right there by my side as I endured the aftermath of the nastiest breakup of my life.
Fast forward another three years or so and I was floating along, single as hell, her marriage hit the rocks and never recovered.  So there we were, coping with divorce before we were even out of our twenties.  (And when I say "we," I mean it.  Their divorce affected me almost as much as if it had been my own, because that's just how her and I roll.)  So what the fuck?  That's not how it's supposed to work!  I had always admired the faith and the hope that Andrea invested in Love, so to see her in that kind of pain was unbearable, not to mention having to deal with the process of figuring out custody and new living arrangements.  Life was not supposed to take that turn.  My dearest friend was not supposed to have go through something like that.
Not long after the shock of that life changing event had subsided, the relationship I had with Buzzard blew up in my face.  I can't decide if that was more difficult to cope with than when I had broken up with my ex, but it sure as hell sucked.  And who was right there to get me back on my feet?  Andrea.
Fast forward to the present - The morning after Philip broke up with me, I met her and her daughter at breakfast, not taking my sunglasses off because of how swollen my eyes were, weeping the entire time into my napkin.  Just recently I got a text from her - things had come to blows with the guy she was seeing and the relationship has come to a halt, only to be revived if he makes some major changes that should have been taken care of a long time ago.  At thirty years old, Andrea and I are both trying to pick up the pieces of our hearts that have been shattered by the end of yet another relationship.
The bottom line is that love doesn't get easier as we get older.  It just gets harder and harder.  We are doing our best to continue on with our lives, Andrea devoting everything she's got to her daughter and her job, I'm devoting all I've got to my nephew and my writing.  But the pain is still there and we are sharing it as if we were one person.
We have hit the realization that we aren't in middle school anymore.  We are having meaningful relationships that ultimately we want to last forever, but fate keeps throwing wrenches in that plan.  It's not like we have awful taste in men either (well, I used to but have gotten a lot better at judging character.)  It isn't until "shit gets real" that we discover our partners' true colors.  Our concerns about "should I text him or should I not," "the anxiety I'm experiencing is killing me," "what did he mean when he said that," "I'm over analyzing this but I cannot control myself" are not comparable to what goes through a girl's head when she's still a teenager.  Outsiders looking in may think we are crazy, but we know we're not.  We're just going through the shit life throws at us, together.
I thank God for Andrea every day.  She'll send me positive quotes at random and I send her funny ones back.  We make each other laugh, we cry on each other's shoulders, we tell each other everything will work out, everything will be okay.  We remind each other to keep on truckin' on the days we just can't get it together.
Is it fair?  No.  Is it life?  Absolutely.  We may not have quite figured it all out yet, but we can accept that we probably never will.  If we ever do though, watch out because we will take over the world.

When I Hit A Fork In The Road

Is it possible that the things that are lacking in my life are that way simply because I'm not a big enough bitch?  Or because I tend to hesitate to say how I'm really feeling when I really should just let it out?  I just finished reading The Theory Of Opposites by Allison Winn Scotch and it got me thinking - maybe I should take the advice sprinkled throughout this novel and do something with it.  Maybe, I should start taking left turns instead of right ones.  Maybe, instead of staying within my comfort zone, sometimes painstakingly, I should venture outside of it a little more often.
I'm not saying that I'm going to morph myself into a royal bitch that no one will like.  I need to learn to stand up for myself more often.  I tend to keep my mouth shut when something is bothering me or I am being treated unfairly, whether it's at work, in relationships, or even when I know I'm getting screwed over while making some sort of financial transaction.
I've gotten a lot better at it over the last few years - I used to be a complacent doormat, I might as well face it.  Not so much anymore, but there's always room for improvement.
I can only control the present.  To an extent.  Like when I learned last week, from a fellow photographer, that apparently someone at work had an issue with the posing of my subjects and that was the reason I had been put on a few jobs as assistant and not a photographer.  The thing is - I had been doing it my way since August and nothing had been said to me.  I was so upset I nearly launched into a full blown panic attack on the job.  Ordinarily I would let it go and not bother to speak up to person I should have, the person who had the opportunity more than once to address this issue with me as I sat in their office.  But I remembered the book, and I did the opposite - I spoke up.  I called one of the supervisors (the person I needed to talk to directly was out of town,) on my way home that day and told them how upset I was that there were "issues" with my work and I was never informed, that if there was a problem, someone should have addressed it with me so I could rectify it.  I also made it a point to shoot over the two-day job to prove that I am a good photographer, tweaking the things I knew needed improvement anyway.
So yeah, ordinarily, I would have sat back and done nothing until I was approached about the situation.  But if I had done this, who knows when that would have happened.  I had to take action, especially because the integrity of my work was technically in question.  I have yet to hear any backlash, so I don't even know if I did the right thing, aside from the person I had expressed my grievance to informing me that they checked out my past work and didn't see any problems.
It's a tough call sometimes.  I'm one of those people who has a crushing fear of angering someone, whether it be a friend, a lover, a family member or an employer.  I sometimes stumble over my words, even in my head, and fear that saying whatever it is that I need to say will do more harm than good.  Past experience and the environment I grew up in contribute heavily to this.
So it's definitely time to start making the left turns when I hit a fork in the road, because I've become painfully aware that always going right hasn't really been working out for me.      

Sometimes There's Nothing More Gorgeous Than A $100 Bill

If money is the root of all evil, then why do I feel like if I just had a little bit more I would be happier?  Maybe because I wouldn't stress so hard over never feeling like I have enough to make ends meet?  I wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night with depressing thoughts creeping into my vulnerable, sleep-groggy mind, thoughts that tell me I'll never amount to much because I chose a career that I actually enjoy, that I'll never be able to afford to meet another human's basic needs, (a child's,) because I can barely meet my own, I start to panic about getting older and still not really having it together and I end up feeling utterly desolate, unable to fall back asleep.  
There are times I feel like no matter how much money I squirrel away, something will always happen to make it disappear.  Then I think, how do people do it?  How do they get married, buy houses, and have children when I know they are plagued by the same fears that plague me?  I guess the answer is simple - they just do.  My mother says the same thing.
Things change, people are born, they live, they work, they love, they hate, they work some more, try to live a decent life, and then they die, life goes on.  
It is a simple concept, it's just a really hard one to accept, especially for people like me.
I'm not sitting here bitching and complaining about my awful life, as I sip gourmet coffee (a Christmas gift) in a mug I bought when I went out to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame this past weekend, bundled up in warm clothes with properly running heat.  I unbelievably aware of how lucky and blessed I am to have a roof over my head, don't think for one minute I take anything for granted.
Maybe if I list the ways I've fucked up that I have since worked so hard to remedy, I'll feel a little better about myself?  Let's go.

• Back in 2009 I defaulted so bad on my car loan that my car was repossessed.
• Around the same time the car insurance company became tired of not getting paid and dropped me.
• I lost my health insurance for the same reason.
• I've had to borrow $20 from friends just to put some gas in my car.
• I've defaulted on my school loans.
• My credit card debt was so out of control that I just started ignoring the notices that came in the mail and the phone calls that came every day.
• For months, every bank statement I received had a negative balance.

I used to get so mad at how much the bank took from me every time I was hit with an overdraft charge, because I was trying, I was trying so hard to get back on my feet financially, and I couldn't.  Because it seemed like the bank was taking every dollar I was trying to use to get the credit card, school loan and car loan people off my back.
So let's now look at how I remedied (or at least tried to) all of these problems.

• I got my car back and resumed making the payments on time.  (We'll leave it at that.)
• I did end up driving without car insurance for a good year or two.  I don't condone anyone doing that, but once I was a little more financially stable, I secured myself some affordable insurance and have never missed a payment since.
• Same goes for my health insurance.  I did my best to take care of myself so as not to get sick, I went off birth control for about a year (which is actually recommended for women who are on it for long periods of time.)  And again, once I was back on my feet, I applied for individual coverage that I could afford.
• I called the company associated with my school loans and got back on track with them.  I was able to defer my loans until I was able to start paying them again, and since then have not needed a deference, nor missed a payment.
• I consolidated all of my credit card debt.  I know that's not the best way to handle things, but it was my only hope.  The woman I worked with offered me comfort and solace as I cried to her over the phone, as she pointed out to me that my case was no where near the astronomical ones they typical handle.
• I also stopped wasting money on trivial things like getting my nails done, (which I can do myself,) going out to the bars so often, and packing my lunch for work instead of hitting the Wawa every other day.  (Except for coffee refills of course.)

Once I got my shit together, which I swear only happened by the grace of God and lucrative seasons at work, I finally felt like a worthy human being again.  Now my car and credit cards are paid off, and the only debt I am carrying is my school loans, a very small amount on a credit card and the little bit I still owe on the eye surgery I had in June 2012.  These are the things I am using to reestablish my ruined credit and when I checked recently, it seems to be working.
But that little voice still nags me.  "Sure, you may be relatively back on your feet and supporting yourself, but what about a family?  Don't you want to buy a house one day?  How will you afford a mortgage payment?  Childcare?  College-fucking-tuition?"
Maybe once I realize that it's a never ending cycle, that there will always be things out of my control, I can accept it and just keep moving forward.  This constant feeling of being stuck?  It's getting really old.

My Favorite Grrrls In the Literary World

Just want to take a minute to give props to two of my favorite authors.

I don't usually go all fan-girl over, well, anyone, but I kind of do for Jen Lancaster.  Even though our styles are completely opposite - I can't rock LaCoste shirts and I don't think she's into leather and spiked heels, when I picked up Bitter Is The New Black, I was hooked.  I could relate to what her and husband went through went the dot com bubble burst, albeit on a much smaller scale.  I may not have physically stood in the unemployment line clutching my Prada bag, but I filed online with my tub full of Pradas upstairs in my closet.  I laugh out loud every five minutes while reading her work.  The grace (and satire) with which she handled everything that happened to her gives me hope and inspiration.  If I'm feeling depressed or throwing myself a pity party because I've destroyed my credit and can't afford to live on my own right now, I pick up one of her books and my mood lightens, instantly.  Her writing also gives me hope and a reminder that if I'm unhappy, I am the only one who can turn things around for myself.  [Getting the actual fire to do it lit under my ass is a whole different beast.]  
You can check her out on Facebook here.
You can also find her on Twitter here.
Ok, maybe I fan-girl over more people than I care to admit, because I have a deep affinity for Erica Jong.  When I picked up Fear of Flying roughly 30 years after it was published, the iconic book that turned 40 in 2013, I was blown away and immediately devoured everything she has written.  She has the ability to write so frankly about sex and relationships and not make them seem dirty or taboo.  She's got the guts and gusto to write what she feels, and damn is this woman educated.  I would love to pick her brain, but I wouldn't even know where to start.  I can relate in some way, shape, or form, to every one of her books, particularly Any Woman's Blues.  [It's intense.  I highly recommend everyone read it.] 
You can check her out on Facebook here.
You can also find her on Twitter here.

There Are No Life Jackets In The Ocean of Separation...

...so when you try to swim across it, you will drown.

I need some feedback on this one.

I'm getting tired of re-hashing all that has done down this past month and a half between my Ex and I, but I can't help it.  It's like having tasted my first shot of Fireball, discovering something painfully awesome, and so once the first shot goes down, I go into overdrive and ultimately wake up with killer heartburn.

Here's what I want feedback on.  If someone breaks your heart - would you remain in contact with them or make every effort possible to cut off all communication in order to heal?  I'm not asking for myself - I've been there, done that, even have a couple of crappy tee shirts from the trip.
I have every reason to suspect that my ex never stopped communicating with the *cough* rhymes-with-witch *cough* that broke his heart over two years ago.  And I have every reason to suspect that it is one of the main reasons he shattered my world when he told me that, basically, he hasn't moved on from that relationship and couldn't devote himself wholly to ours.
I've been talking back and forth with a mutual friend of ours and that's when this realization hit me - that in order to heal, in order to even consider maintaining some sort of friendship with someone who has broken our heart, an ocean of time and space between both parties needs to be established for an extended period of time, no?
When I split up with the man I had been with for years, the one I thought I was going to marry, I threw that barricade up as quickly as I could, in order to save him the heartache of not getting the opportunity to move on.  Was it hard?  Of-fucking-course!  Did it always work?  No.  For the first six months he did everything he could to break me down, but I refused to let him.  Granted, I was the one who left, but he was the one who had broken my heart by refusing to put in the effort to fix everything that was wrong in our relationship.  Did I question my decision to end it?  Every day.  Sometimes, even six years later, I still do.  But deep down I know it was the right one.  Has he moved on?  Absolutely.  And he's better off for it, I'm sure.  Do I still talk to him?  Not so much, but if we cross paths, it is what it is (as much I hate that phrase,) and we have the ability to be amicable.  But it took an ocean of time and space.
When Buzzard broke my heart, I refused to contact him.  I deleted his phone number, I didn't respond to his calls or text messages for nearly seven months.  Because of the willpower I possessed, I was able to move on with my life and rebuild it, brick by brick, and I am so much better for it.  Now I can view him as a friend, there is no longing to be back with him, to be involved romantically with him because I put an ocean of time and space between us.  Sometimes I still do just because I don't want to be involved in the drama that he is such a magnet for.
So am I wrong?  Does it not make sense that in order to heal from a broken heart, hell, a broken life, we must separate ourselves from the one who caused it?

The Anxiety, It'll Kill Ya

So this year did not start out as I had expected.  This year started on a down, and I'm the only one who can change that.  But I don't know how just yet.
I'm still reeling from losing the man I love.  When that happened to me back in November, I was crushed.  I am still crushed.  But now I'm wondering why I haven't picked up the pieces of my broken heart and started to move on with my life.  Usually at this point, a month or so later, I'd be making progress, gaining back my "Whatever, I'll just take on the world, again," attitude.  I'd be patching up my wounds with mascara and lipstick and lacing up my shit-kickers, each act a symbol of getting stronger.  I'd be even more inclined to keep pushing forward to prove to everyone that I am surviving and will come out of whatever it is trying to hold me down stronger, and more determined than ever to live an amazing life.
But I'm no where near that point.
The other day I realized that I'm not racing towards "the end."  If I had to describe it, it feels more like waiting.  That's the point I've gotten to.  Who in their right mind, at 30 years old, decides to sit around and wait to die?  Especially someone like me, a 30 year old woman that has an amazing group of supportive and loving people around her at all times, who has yet to notice the ravages of time on her body (save for the dark circles under my constantly puffy eyes as of late,) and in fact worked very hard to get to where she is now in life?  Who took an entire year to better her mind, her body and her career and had some damn good success?
Yeah this woman is the one doing it.  And it I need to stop.  I worry.  Constantly, about things not in my control.  I stress over the future instead of letting it become the present and dealing with it in stride.
[I understand everyone stresses over their future.  I think a little bit is normal.  But I take it to the extreme - my concerns and anxiety are downright paralyzing.]  
My mother made a valid point the other night - I am so stuck in my own head that I'm missing out on everything going on around me.  I've become an observer of life, and not a participant.  So guess what has been to added to my seemingly never-ending list of worries?  Just that.
How did this happen to me?

I had the opportunity to be in the crowd on this night. It was only the second time, in all the years I've followed these guys, that I've had the chance to witness this beautiful song played live.  And right now, at this point in my life, the lyrics have gained incredibly important meaning.

Stuck In A Rut

I need to snap out of this funk I am currently stuck in, and fast, because it is killing me.  I'm going about my days in a fog, mostly fighting tears, sometimes utterly and dangerously ambivalent about everything - myself, my job, the people in my life.
I can't live my life this way.
Something a friend said to me the other day has been stuck in my head.  While I was trying to convey my horror that I'm 30 years old and I've yet to find my place in the world while everyone around me seems to have it all together, they looked me and said "It's like...it's like you're racing!  It's like you're racing towards...death!"  At first I thought I wasn't making sense with what I was trying to say, because, to be completely honest, I'm terrified by the idea of my own mortality.  I brushed the comment aside at the time, but it keeps creeping back into my mind.
Is that what I'm doing?

Keeping Busy, Keep My Head Up

Like I've said, I have no expectations nor do I have any idea what 2014 will bring.  (Do any of us, ever?)  I've been planning a few trips here and there.  At the end of January the plan is to go visit one of my cruise buddies out in Ohio.  [I was supposed to technically be on my way home from there now , but due to the snowstorm that just blasted the midwest and northeast, I thought it best to stay put.]  My brother and sister in law have suggested that instead of going to Ocean City, NJ for the Mid Winter Classic, we all pitch in and rent a house in the Poconos for a weekend.  [I'm down with that.]  Of course I can't forget to mention the big one - my brother and I will be flying down to New Orleans in March for 311 Day 2 014!  There's also lots of planning still to be done for my friend's wedding in June, which I have agreed to be a bridesmaid in.  I've sucked up my distaste for Ocean City, MD (where they want to have the bachelorette party,) and am working on squeezing into my positive pants about the whole thing.  [It's hard to be excited about planning wedding showers and bachelorette parties and trying on bridesmaid dresses when your own future has been put into serious question.]  So between all of that, and my work, I should be pretty busy for a while.   
I still don't know what direction my relationship with Philip is going to take.  I went to his house the other night, after almost a month and a half of not having seen him.  Nothing was actually resolved, of course.  I'm still as confused as ever.
Ideally?  He'd get over himself and out of his own head and just set down the baggage he's clinging so desperately to.  He'd realize that it's not a good idea to let me slip through his fingers because of his stubbornness.  He'd get over his commitment issues and hand over his heart, because he already knows that I'd cherish it.  But that's wishful thinking, right?
We spent New Years together and it was an emotional rollercoaster for me.  It was wonderful being with him, it was wonderful seeing all of the friends I have made over the course of our relationship.  But it was hard having someone pull me aside every five minutes and tell me how much they love me.  Every time, I wanted to respond, "Thank you, I just wish he felt the same way," but all I could do was let the fact that he and I are no longer together settle in even more.
It's fucking hard.

2013 - My Year In Review, Part 3

July

Headed to the "gun show."

On the 10th of July, my brother and I went to see 311 play at Penn's Landing in Philadelphia, the tradition we've adopted of celebrating our birthdays - his June 3, mine August 3.  311 always comes to Philly right smack in the middle of those dates.  On this same day, I went to visit my old boss, and asked for my job back.  He welcomed me with open arms and much relief.  (Dependable people are hard to find in my field.)  By the end of my visit, I was booked for the entire month of August and by July 19th, I put in my two weeks notice at the lab I was working in.  I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.

311 on stage.

I also started planning my 30th Birthday Bash that was set for Saturday, August 3rd.  (How appropriate, my 30th actually falling on a Saturday!)
I don't remember doing anything special for the 4th, I think Philip and I went out for sushi and watched the fireworks at Longwood Gardens from the restaurant parking lot while sitting on the bed of his truck.  (Just now realizing how red neck that sounds.)
Lesson Learned - Your job will not be awesome every day.  But having coworkers that you adore and can have a good time with, even in the worst of situations, makes all the difference in the world.

August
Ahh, my birthday month!  Holy shit!  I'm going to be 30!
The first week of this month I went back to my photography gig and it was like I hadn't skipped a beat.  My boss wasn't the only one happy (and relieved) to have me back.  My schedule went back to the form of normalcy I was accustomed to and I was so much happier.

My & 2 of my best girls.

Saturday, August 3rd, I celebrated my 30th birthday with about 70 of my closest friends and family members right here in my backyard.  I had a band, kegs, and made enough food to feed an army.  (My mother and I are not ones to have events catered if the guest list is under 100 people.)  The menu included meatball sandwiches, sausage and peppers, fried chicken, not to mention homemade dips, fruit, cookies, a huge tray of tomato pie from Serpe's Bakery and other snacks.

Keg stand, anyone?

It was everything I could have hoped for, my birthday celebration, aside from cloudy skies and a sprinkle or two of rain.  Oh well, when it rains, we pour.









The rest of the month was spent soaking up the last days of summer, more barbecues and parties, working relatively normal hours.  I didn't get to the beach as much as I would have liked to during the summer of 2013, but that's okay because my bank account proved that it was worth it.

The annual Papili Family Reunion, August 2013

Lesson Learned - There is nothing better than celebrating milestones with friends and family in the comfort of your own backyard.

September
As summer wound down, my fall season went into full swing and I was busy, busy, busy.  My finances were recovering nicely (I was saving money!  Saving!) and the highlight of this month was celebrating Ma's birthday.  Every year I cook up a mountain of lobster macaroni and cheese for the amazing woman I am proud to call my mother.  Another success down in the books, celebrated with friends and family.  (Duh.)
Philip and I got into our first major fight and, looking back, it was the start of our downhill slide.  I had thought, "Ok, we survived, he's still standing and our relationship can only get stronger from this point on."  Right.  That's what I thought.  Things went back to normal for us for the most part, but again, something was different and I couldn't figure out what it was.
In September, I scored tickets for 311 Day 2014 in New Orleans for my brother and I.  I didn't think I was going to be able to swing it, what with having gone on the cruise back in March, but when I realized I could afford them, I was all over it.  Hence the planning of a trip to NOLA began.
Lesson Learned - Never hold your feelings back.  If someone's actions hurt you, tell them, even if it means screaming at them in the lobby of the bar you frequent as a couple.

To be continued...

2013 - My Year In Review, Part 4

October
Work kept moving along, I started getting back into a regular gym routine, and cold weather started creeping in.  Another month of important birthdays, (Nico's, Philip's,) Halloween parties, concerts.

The Dirty Pearls, Philly, October 2013

One of my favorite bands, The Dirty Pearls, opened for Tommy Conwell in Philly and I was excited to get to see them in my "concert hometown."  My brother, my good friends Jay and Christine and myself all went to the show and had a great time, as usual.  I believe I even got to sing a couple lines from "New York City Is A Drug" into the mic when Tommy London made his way down into the crowd.

Beetlejuice & Lydia

The last week of this month was nonstop, with celebrating said birthdays and Halloween.  Philip's was on the 24th, and I made sure he received nothing but royal treatment the entire week.  I love being able to shower that kind of affection on people I love care about.  I got him a gift certificate to get the windows of his truck tinted, we went out for sushi, we had every kind of sex he could fantasize about.  That weekend we dressed up in our Halloween costumes, Beetlejuice and Lydia, a did a mini tour of bars and parties, even winning first place in a contest we didn't know was happening.  All of the hard work I put into those damn costumes totally paid off.
I also thought our relationship was on the upswing...
Lesson Learned - Polyester soaks up white spray paint like a motherfucker.

November

Dewey Warriors

Jenny and I took our 2nd annual shopping trip down to the beach but I had no luck this year.  The fact that I was hungover as hell trying to cruise the outlets might have been a factor.  Might have.  I was incredibly disappointed, but the closing party at the Starboard that Saturday night made up for it.
I had been feeling kind of down in the dumps but my spirits started to lift as the holidays approached.  I started to accept that, no matter what, everything will be okay.  Just because I struggle sometimes with money or relationships, doesn't mean everything won't be okay in the end.  I stress myself out over things that I have no control over, and the Sunday before Thanksgiving, as I was driving home from the Lancaster Outlets with Christmas gifts for 80% of those on my list, I gave up that stress.  I just let it go.  Everything is going to be okay.  My bills were paid, my shopping nearly done without breaking the bank, everything was going to be fine and I felt the negativity I was holding onto lift off my shoulders.
My God, was I wrong.
Two nights before Thanksgiving he dropped the fucking bomb.  He broke up with me.  Because he doesn't know how to let go of the kind of stress I had rid myself of a day and a half previously.  So at a time when I should have been joyous, happy, enjoying good food and time with my family, I was miserable.  I had been thrown into a pit of despair.  That's what I get for relinquishing stress over things not in my control.  Because this, this I could not control.  It hit me not like a ton of bricks, but like a Mac truck loaded down with cinderblocks, going 180 miles an hour down the turnpike of my life.

The girls on Thanksgiving

So I spent Thanksgiving weekend numb, in shock, doing everything in my power to not lose my Goddamned mind.  Decorating the house for Christmas was a nightmare.  That's all my life had become, one big nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
Lesson Learned - The Lancaster Outlets have some damn good sales around Thanksgiving.
Lesson #2 Learned - Nothing prepares you for having your world destroyed and people are awful.  Truly, utterly awful.

December

Rockefeller Center

I did my best to keep busy with work and Christmas preparations.  It was hard.  It was painstaking.  I hadn't cried so much since I lost my father.  I have never been more thankful for the friends that I have in my life.  They're always there for me, but the extent of how far they'd go for me was proved in helping me pick up, or at least sweep up, the pieces of my shattered heart.  My best friend of 20 years, Ann, was right there, talking me off the ledge every day.  As was Christine and Jay, Jenny, Jamie.  They'd take me out, even if it meant dragging me kicking and screaming because I didn't want to leave the house.  Jay, Christine and I ventured up to New York City for The Dirty Pearls' Holiday Show, (notice a pattern?) and got to get in some sight seeing beforehand.     

The Dirty Pearls, Irving Plaza

I managed to put on my big-girl panties and a smile and help out with our annual Christmas party, I even donned my Rudolph footie pajamas on Christmas Eve, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.  I baked a shit ton of cookies and pizzelles and dabbled in more fancy treats like figs and goat cheese wrapped in homemade puff pastry.  (Dee-lish, by the way.)  Even so, every time I thought I took a step forward, I ended up getting pushed back down on my ass and had to start all over again.  I missed him.  [I still miss him.]  I loved him.  [And I still love him.]  

Ma and I getting ready for Christmas
Eve festivities.

I endured the holidays, I'll say that much.  I did my best to keep the good stuff front and center - spending time with my Nico, watching him open his presents Christmas morning, and I had begun forcing myself to accept that whatever happens between Philip and I is not under my control.  I accepted that I don't know what the future will bring and I will have to be okay with that.  I can only continue to make myself a better person, to keep my mind and body healthy, to keep working hard and playing harder.
Lesson Learned - The pizzelle maker is still going to be screaming hot even if it's been unplugged for 10 minutes.
Lesson #2 Learned - If someone can't reciprocate the love you have for them, you are powerless over the situation.  But if you love him or her, fucking tell them. 

I'll say 2013 was a big year for me.  Everything does come full circle.  I don't have any words of wisdom, or even any expectations for 2014.  All I can do is keep being me.

2013 - My Year In Review, Part 2

April

Warm weather is on the way!  Yeah, not so much.
The job continued to go well, but it was getting hard to figure out a rhythm with my new schedule.  Working 12:30-9 five days a week doesn't leave much room for a social life.  Regardless, my depression was starting to lift.  That is, until I realized just how much the pay cut I took leaving my photography gig was affecting my finances.  I was barely making ends meet.

On the 5th of April, as Philip and I were laying in bed, he told me he wanted to be with me and only me.  Take note - this had already been the case for both of us for the past few months, but we never really openly discussed it until that night.  He had made me the happiest girl in the world.  There may have even been tears (mine and his) involved.

The stage at Xfinity Live! Philadelphia

In the crowd during GG's last Wilmington show.

This month my friends and I witnessed the end of an era - one of the best cover bands in the tristate area, Mr.  Greengenes, had decided to call it quits and was making their rounds playing their last couple of shows, culminating in a big blowout at Xfinity Live! in Philadelphia.  It was a bittersweet time; I had grown up watching these guys play.

Lesson Learned - Don't ever accept a job offer before knowing how much they are going to pay you.  Huge mistake on my part.
2nd Lesson Learned - Sometimes, having patience with someone who means the world to you pays off.  [Sometimes.]

May

It started to dawn on me that I was spending more time in a lab with people who constantly talked shit behind each others' backs and surrounded by tension, than I was doing anything else.  I started to miss the driving that came with my old job, the kids I had worked with, the coworkers who were like a second family to me.  But I was determined to stick it out.

Money woes were my main concern, but with the help of my mother, God love her, I was able to pay off a huge chunk of debt and completely revamp my budget.

Dewey Beach, Mother's Day 2013

We spent Mother's Day Weekend at the beach with his family and I felt that I had made a good impression, (us having a place to stay in Dewey instead of sleeping on the floor at his parents' probably helped.)  That Sunday we said our goodbyes and headed back into Dewey, spending the day walking up and down the main highway, doing a little bar hopping and checking out the Art Festival that was going on.  I remember taking pictures at the bay, then meandering over to the beach and doing the same with the ocean behind us.

My next door neighbor got married on the 18th and the reception was held in my backyard.

The pool didn't get opened until around Memorial Day and this year was quite the nightmare.  The water was not clearing up, regardless of what we did to remedy it.  We had the filter looked at, the water tested a million times, dumped roughly $500 worth of chemicals into it, to no avail.  Major point of contention between my mother and I, let me tell you.  And the hardest part for me was not being around to help out much because of my work schedule and the fact that I was splitting my time between Swedesboro (work,) Parkesburg (the boyfriend,) and Wilmington (home.)
Lesson Learned - Have the pool opened the first weekend in May at the latest so that if issues do arise, they can be remedied before Memorial Day.

June

The pool dilemma was finally solved when I took a sample of water to Swift Pools, Inc, the guys who actually installed it ten years ago.  (Note - I will never, ever, deal with Leslie's Pool Supplies ever again.  Don't tell me my water is testing fine and then shake your head in disbelief when I throw my phone at you so you can see the picture I've taken that morning of water that is the color of split pea soup.)  Long story short, our pool water was old and retaining solid matter to the point that chemicals were no longer effective.  The water is supposed to test something between 1 and 2 thousand PPM, ours was at 3000.  After 3 nights of draining and refilling simultaneously, the water was crystal clear in about two days.  

Tailgating at Blue Gold.

Me and my girl, Jenny.

It was a month of graduation parties and barbecues.  We went to the Blue Gold football game to watch my cousin play, one of the highest honors (in my opinion) that a high school senior can achieve.  I also got to see Rusted Root play at the Bottle and Cork in Dewey, so I can cross that off the bucket list.

I also made the decision to go back to my old photography job while cutting the grass one day.  I do some of my most profound thinking and reflection while performing this task.
Lesson learned - Being the "picture lady" for the rest of my life isn't such a bad gig.

The first half of 2013 was quite the rollercoaster for me, between new adventures, a new job, a new relationship.  I felt that I was finally getting my shit together.  The whole "Once your mind is in good shape, everything else will fall into place" does actually work.  It was my plan all along.  It was why I joined the gym, why I got a new job, why I worked so hard to keep my depression at bay.  The second half of 2013 turned out a lot different than I had planned...