Sunday, 26 February 2012

Fan Mail…you asked, I answered

Mail bag has been opened…and I do have to say that I am kind of surprised at the amount of messages I get regarding the blog.  Questions, comments, support…it`s all so uplifting.  So, just a quick thanks to everyone who is following my journey.

Here are a few of the most asked questions that I am sent.  My answers are honest and not what everyone wants to hear or will agree with, but it is my blog and I can post what I want lol.

Where did you come up with “Today is the day?”

Around the second weekend that the kids were with their dad, and the devastation of what was happening was at an all-time high, I found myself listening to the radio in my car in my driveway, not wanting to go into an empty house, crying my head off.  Shania Twain’s song “Today is your day” came on.


I just sat there and cried.  Then I realized, today is my day…it is the day…to become who I was meant to be.  I wasn`t living in anyone`s shadow anymore. 

Why are you putting so much effort into this?

Because I know there are a lot of you out there who are afraid to step out of your box. Because I know there are women/men/moms/dads and everyone in between who need to sit back with a great glass of wine and enjoy an entertaining read. Because if I am not held accountable for removing myself from my pity party, I will end up in a reality TV induced coma. I also know that writing is and always has been a passion of mine that went neglected for a very long time. 

 And really...blogging is much cheaper than therapy.

If he came back, what would you do?

If you would have asked me 8 months ago, I wouldn`t have hesitated to say, yes, absolutely come back.  Let`s work it out.  However, I can forgive a lot of things but I will not forget the things that were said and done to me and more importantly, my kids.  His actions, his choices and the things that were said to me out of spite, pain, anger, and selfishness will always stay with me.  Those things don`t rule my life, but they absolutely have left a mark on my heart.   Looking back with a different perspective, I can honestly say that part of my life is over.  I have wonderful memories, 2 amazing kids and some very tough life lessons to take with me. My therapist asked me once if I met him now, would we date or would there be a connection and as much as it hurt, my heart and my head both said no.  I have come to realize that the life I was living was not mine or even ours.  It was his.  When he left, so did some other people in my life that I thought would have backed me up no matter what. This too was part of the healing process.  There comes a point when the damage is so deep, that unfortunately, the only option is to move forward.

You aren’t the first person to have their spouse leave…what makes you so special?

Absolutely nothing makes me more special.  I am unique…just like everyone else.  The difference is that I am not going to sugar coat my life anymore.  I lived a long time making the world believe that my life was perfect, because who wants to admit that it isn`t.  We are so afraid of what people will say or think that we become paralyzed.  Life isn`t perfect people…and it`s my decision to live with the knowledge that life doesn`t have to be perfect to be amazing.  I am simply not choosing to live that life anymore. 

Why don`t you blog more than once a week

I would love to be able to blog more than once a week.  However, I do work outside the home, have a part time home based natural therapy business, 2 children, family, friends and a gym membership (notice I did not say I actually went to the gym)   I try and write as much as I can, and as you can see from most of my posts, they come late at night when the house is quiet.

Will you tell us when you find someone special?

Maybe, maybe not lol. 

Have you had your rebound yet?          

Maybe, maybe not lol.

When do we get to hear the “sex and the city” details?

Probably never.  My mother reads this blog lol

How do you stay positive?

My children obviously are an amazing force in my life.  If you have read any of the past blog posts, you know exactly the kind of kids I have been blessed with.

My family, my friends, my work, the support of the people who follow the blog, my faith that the universe is bringing me to a place where I need to be, my own ability to realize I deserve to live a life that is full and inspiring…all these things give me the strength to keep the light in my soul burning.

Music is also a powerful force for me.  I of course have worn out my Adele CD but have really used a lot of different music as a way to allow myself to cry, grieve, to be angry and also to lift my spirit.  And I am happy to say, that I don`t really need my Adele CD much anymore.

One of my favourite songs that is on constant repeat is Mumford and Sons ``After the Storm``


Here are some of the lyrics:

And after the storm,

I run and run as the rains come

And I look up, I look up,

on my knees and out of luck, I look up.

Night has always pushed up day

You must know life to see decay

But I won't rot, I won't rot

Not this mind and not this heart, I won't rot.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.

And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.

Get over your hill and see what you find there,

With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And now I cling to what I knew

I saw exactly what was true

But oh no more.

That's why I hold,

That's why I hold with all I have.

That's why I hold.

I won't die alone and be left there.

Well I guess I'll just go home,

Oh God knows where.

Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

Why won’t you tell the readers the details of what happened?

No matter what I say, people will always make assumptions about what really happened, because it`s much easier to judge someone else`s life than to take an honest look at their own.  That`s the short explanation.  However, I will say that our marriage was in desperate turmoil for quite some time before the official separation.  Pride, fear, hope, obligation kept us together much longer than was healthy really.  The decision to separate was not mine and I did what I could to salvage what was left.  While I held on with everything I had, he had already made up his mind about 6 months before he left and walked away for what he saw as a more exciting life.  End of story and beginning of a new journey.

When you get published, are you using your married name? 

The short answer…no.

Are you going to dedicate your book to your ex?

I am fully aware that without the total annihilation of my marriage, I wouldn`t be blogging, writing or possibly publishing at all, but no. 

How are your kids doing?

My kids endure their struggles and come out the other side ok…sometimes more than ok.  They are learning that their feelings matter.  They are learning that they can speak their minds in regards to the way they feel about their dad`s actions.  They are also learning that love and family mean so much more than any material item. The three of us together have created such a powerful and loving circle that we, without a doubt, know that family is what matters the most.

Would you ever get married again?

Sure…now accepting applications.

Are the things that happen in your blog posts true?

Absolutely…100%.  Lucky for me I attract crazy.

What has helped you through the toughest times?

That`s a hard question because it varies.  Friends, family, meditation, putting myself out into the world alone even when it scares me to death…lots of things have gotten me through.  The ability to know that being alone doesn`t have to be lonely.  The ability to know that feeling lonely is ok too.

What has been the hardest thing so far?

Aside from picking up the pieces of a shattered heart and the hearts of my children and being able to move on you mean.  There have been a lot of difficult things to deal with:  finances, custody agreements, self-esteem rebuilding, navigating the new world of water softener salt, dating, living a whole new life.  One of my challenges was the coming to terms with the fact that I thought things were going to be ok.  That it was just a bump in the road to growing old together.  That even though things had been rough I honestly believed we could get through it.  We had an amazing marriage for a very long time and to come to terms with the end has been hard.  Like most people, I denied what was happening and chose not to see our marriage for what it was or who he was now. I denied what I knew was going on and I second guessed my instinct when `friends` assured me that all was well.  Trusting myself and knowing that I did everything I could and this was not my issue, but his, was easier than I thought it would be.  Coming to terms with the realization that this is my life now has been a little more challenging but not impossible.  That people are going to unfairly judge my life and there`s nothing I can do about it has downright sucked, especially in a small town.  Letting go of the feelings of guilt because I can move on and should move on while actually breathing, living and finding me again was a struggle but definitely empowering.  But if I were to be totally honest and I always am, it`s going to be the ability to let someone into my life again.

Today is the day I might just let some walls down.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Sweaty is the new sexy right?

I am currently on day 5 of dealing with a wicked cold that knocked myself and my youngest right on our behinds. 

So when I realized that the fridge was bare and I had to pick up my prescription, I knew that I would have to venture out into real world and get some necessities.  Single life has its perks.  Being sick and disgusting and single and having to go out to pick up necessities, is not one of them.

Let me set this up for you.  Picture this…

Day 5 of a head/chest cold that is not getting any better.

Every facial orifice is dripping, leaking and running.

Lips are chapped and red.

Have not showered in two days (don’t judge, you’ve been there)

Hair looks like a cross between a troll and a greasy homeless man.

Sweating like a pig in a bacon factory.

Coughing like a 90 yr. old chain smoker.

Of course I am ready to go out to the drug store and grocery shopping!

Decisions, decisions…get fully dressed, partially dressed, go in pajamas?

Ok…I keep my pajama top on, no I didn’t put on a bra (again, don’t judge me…you ladies have been there) pull on some fleece “athletic” pants and a sweater to hide the fact that I am braless in a pajama top.  Ok…not too bad.  However, there is no hairband, hairbrush, or sheep shearers that will take care of my hair issue.  What luck…I have a hat.

Ready to go, slightly sweaty because let’s be honest, it’s the most activity I have had in days.  Fleece “athletic” pants tucked into fugly brown boots, puffy coat to hide the drooping girls and a hat on top of the greasy mess of hair I am currently sporting.  A glance in the mirror tells me to get out and get home asap.

The trip to the pharmacy was quick and painless.  A quick chat with my favourite pharmacy tech and my favourite drug store supervisor, and I am out the door without incident.  Now…grocery store and I am home again under my blankets on the couch.

I zipped my coat right up to hide the pajama top, hat pulled down low to hide the troll hair and gum to hide the “sick breath”.  I had brushed my teeth before I left, but I had serious doubts.
Manouvering my way through the store, grabbing the items on my list, I am feeling pretty good.  Sweaty, but good. 

As I hit the cracker aisle, I am starting to feel a little light headed.  And sweaty, very sweaty.  Even the crackers are starting to annoy me.  In my mucous induced pity party, I am starting to think I should just leave the cart and go home.

When all of a sudden, I hear some asshole in the next aisle whistling “Lady Antebellum”.  It really started to get to me.  I don’t know about you, but when I am sick, noise seems amplified.  This whistling shit head was one chorus away from having a bag of goldfish crackers jammed down his throat.  Thankfully, he stopped…maybe another shopper got to him before I did.  Regardless, I tossed my crackers into the cart and headed to the granola bars.

I get to the aisle I am looking for and there is some bitch with her cart parked in the middle of the aisle so no one can get through.  If that isn’t bad enough, she’s lecturing her husband on his need for more fibre because and I quote “I am sick and tired of listening to you grunt and groan in there because you refuse to eat a little fibre!”  And I am the single one…makes no sense to me at all.

My last stop at the store, haven’t seen anyone I know, thankfully, and I can actually hear my couch calling my name.  As I am standing there, staring at the granola bars in a ibuprofen induced cold coma, sweating, hoping my puffy coat covers my drooping boobs, I hear someone call my name.

No, not hallucinating…it’s not my couch.  Shit…do I casually walk away, pretending I didn’t hear?  Too late…the dreaded tap on the shoulder. 

I turn around and come face to face with a guy from highschool that had a “thing” for me.  Great…just great.

As I am turning around, he’s saying “It’s so great to see…” his voice trails off.  Then I hear a weak little “you.”

I mumble something about being sick, not wanting to stand too close so I don’t spread any germs and something about the price of granola bars. 

He then goes on to say “Wow, you look great…a little warm, but great.”

What was your first clue genius…the sweat mustache I am currently wearing or the fact that the collar of my coat is drenched. 

We make conversation short and I head for the checkout as fast as I can.  The checkout girl is perky and annoyingly chatty.  I start coughing just so I don’t have to talk to her.

As I leave the store it’s windy and raining.  I immediately unzip my puffy down jacket and let the cold air dry the back of my neck. 

I load up the car, roll the window down, stick my head out a la Ace Venture style and let the rain wash away the snot currently running out of my nose. 

Sunday, 12 February 2012

Decoding the fish

I have been on enough dates to finally pose this question…What the hell do men want anyway?

They want an independent woman, but still want to be taken care of.
They want someone who will pursue them, but not like predator/prey pursuing.  I mean really…it’s a fine line and one that I still find unclear.  When does interest turn to stalking?

Do you text, do you not text.  And if you don’t text, do they think you aren’t interested?  If you text too much do they classify you as a clinger?
If they hesitate to give you their last name is it because they are wanted by the cops or are they a private person.

Are they just as terrified as women during this whole process?
Do they talk to their friends about their dates and analyze like I do with my friends?

When a woman isn’t interested, or says she isn’t, does that suddenly make the guy crazy for her?  (In my experience YES)

I went right to the source…one of the guys I “dated” in the beginning stages of my singlehood.  This is what he had to say.  Men like to be pursued and they like a woman who is upfront and honest.  Just be real and yes, send a text just because.  Sounds easy right? 

I am looking at this stage of my life as a learning experience.  Kind of like the training in the minor leagues to prepare for the big moment when you get called up to make the game winning play.  That being said, if there are dating rules, I am pretty sure I have broken all of them.  I am ok with that. 

I have dated 6 men, some only once, some more than once and varying in intensity and interest.  Out of the men I have dated, these are the things I have learned. 

It is imperative to know when to say “game over.”  Feelings schmeelings…sometimes you have to blunt.  (this works both ways, so be gentle, but firm)

Eye contact.  Don’t stare…it`s creepy.

Men are never too busy to call if they really like you.  Saying he`s busy is another way to say “I am an asshole.”

Drunk texting always leads to embarrassment.  Apologies to my friend Jeff.

Don’t play hard to get.  Be hard to get.

If the first date is treated like an interview, well then it’s an interview.

Don’t settle for anything less than butterflies.

Confidence and independence are interwoven but very separate.

Under no circumstances should you (the guy) take a girl by surprise in a parking lot at night to plant a sloppy kiss on them.  It doesn’t end well.

Be available but not desperate.  He really doesn’t need to know that you spent the weekend in your pajamas eating chocolate frosting out of the can. 

Don’t play games.  Text back when he texts.  Call back if you say you will.  At this stage, games are pointless.

Be yourself because if you do end up in a relationship, there aren’t any surprises. 

Be brave.  It’s scary out there. 

Take a risk with your heart and the walls you put up.  You never know.

Be clear about what you want.  Don’t sacrifice your morals for anyone.

Don’t be anyone`s replacement.

If you didn`t shave your legs before your date, you really aren`t that interested.

Each date gets easier and you are less likely to cling to every word/action a la Titanic style.



On the other side of the coin, I have deciphered some of the things that men say…pay attention single ladies…this is important.

He Says:   I really like you. 
He means:  I really like you.



He says (in the middle of a date):  It'll be great to show you the house I grew up in (or anything else that hints of the future).
He means:   See Above



He says:  "Girlfriend"
He means:   You've made him breakfast, he fixed your car and his buddies aren't allowed to come on to you.


He says:  I don’t want you falling in love with me.
He means:  I am falling in love with you.



He says:  Nothing's wrong. I'm fine.
He means:  I know you want to talk about my day and all my relationships with my colleagues and boss but I just want to drink 10 beers, eat a bag of chips and watch tv.



He says:   Maybe we need to slow down.
He means:   Maybe you need to slow down.



He says:   I don't know what I want.
He means:   I don't want you.



He says:   I need some space.
He means:   I'm about this close to dumping you but I haven't worked up the nerve yet.



He says:  Are you adventurous?
He means:  Hey, do you wanna try out my new nipple clamps this weekend?



He says:  What colour do you think our bathroom should be?
He means:  How comfortable are you being chained to my radiator?



He says:   You're an amazing woman.
He means:   You're an amazing woman.


 I am pretty sure that I make things harder than they have to be, but that`s all part of my psychosis, ahem, I mean charm.

So for now, I am rolling with whatever the universe brings me, enjoying finding me and will continue eating my chocolate frosting guilt free.

Sunday, 5 February 2012

Return of the testicle

I am a magnet for crazy shit…really I am.  I know I am always preaching about getting back what you put out into the universe, but come on! 

I am putting out kindness, patience, tolerance, love, blah blah blah.

If there is a drunk, foul mouthed man at a bank machine at 8:30am, you can guarantee he is standing beside me yelling at his points reward card and calling the machine, and I quote, a “hairy nutsack”.

Where there is a perverted old man at the grocery store wondering if his “cucumber” is firm enough, chances are, he is going to ask me for my opinion.

How about the time I had a HUGE rip in the ass of my capri pants, didn’t know it until the man behind me in line commented on the attractive pattern of my “undies”.

Oh and how can I forget the old man riding his bike down the middle of our main street flipping the bird to everyone.  Cars and people scattering to get out of his way, while he shoots the finger to anyone and everyone telling us all to “have a f’in fabulous day.”

Can’t forget the old lady in the local health food store who cut one so loud that it shook the shelves and then proceeds to give me  a dirty look…Hey, just because you are deaf doesn’t mean you didn’t know you let that one rip lady. 

I could go on, but you get the point.

I seem to attract the bizarre…why?  This is a burning question I have. 

Today was a great example…please see the post linked below in regards to my Emergency Room visit to understand this one.


So…I am in the grocery store, minding my own business when I feel someone staring at me.  I mean, I could feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.  I am a little disturbed, but I still don’t look behind me. I keep moving down the row to check out the tomatoes.

I still feel like someone is “following” me and it’s starting to creep me out.  Seriously.  So I make the decision to turn around and make eye contact with my “stalker.”

Sweet Jesus, it’s the testicle guy from the emergency room.  I stand there horrified, while he stares at me intently.  All of a sudden, he registers who I am and says, “Oh hey, how’s the wrist?  I thought I recognized you.   Looks like you don’t have that cast anymore.”

Ok…here’s the dilemma.  What the hell do I say to him?  I mean, I had to sit in the same room, divided by a curtain, while he gets poked, prodded and scanned for his apple sized testicle.  I think I might have totally lost it if we were actually in the apple aisle.

I think about a minute passed, although it felt like an hour, before I could stammer out something that resembled a logical statement.  Because really, all I am thinking about at this point are his testicles.

I went on and on about my wrist, the misdiagnosis of the break, the cast, the subsequent allergic reaction I had to the plaster cast.  All the while, trying not to make direct eye contact.  At this point I realize I am holding a tomato in my hand, a little too firmly, as I notice I am leaving finger prints in it. 

He proceeds to tell me about his weekend, his recurring urinary infection and what he was buying at the grocery store.   Phew…nothing about the condition of the “boys.” 

I feel like I should ask him how he is doing, but really, how do you ask a total stranger how his “apple sized” testicles are? 

I make up some lame excuse to get the hell out of there.  I pretty sure I muttered something about Mormons coming over. 

As I am briskly walking, oh hell, who am I kidding, running out of the produce department, he shouts “Thought you would want to know...testicles are all healed up…be back on my bike in no time.”

The whole produce section stopped.  People stopped dead in their tracks, a lonely cantaloupe rolled down the aisle like a tumbleweed.  I heard someone muffle a laugh and another shopper snort.  I didn’t look back. 

Oh. My. God. 

I kid you not.

Like I said, why me?