Back in the fall of 1999, I was a college senior. I was going to graduate in May 2000 with a Bachelor’s in Telecommunications. However, that September, once it was too late to drop our courses, the company that was sponsoring our degree program went belly up, and we were all informed that we would not have jobs once we graduated in May. We had two choices: Continue and get graduate with associate’s degrees or change majors. Crushed, I looked through the other majors offered by the University, determined to get something higher than an Associate’s. I settled on Nursing. The school had a 100% NCLEX rate, and the degree in Nursing was a Master’s Degree. Looking back, I should have gone to a different University. The road through that nursing program was an easy one, and it was then that I decided that taking the easy road was not worth it to me. We were allowed to have notes and text books during exams, our instructors simply corrected us during skills check offs. We literally had nothing to learn. Two and a half years after I graduated from nursing school, I was bored with nursing, and tried to pursue a career in the chemistry field. Unfortunately, I needed a PhD to work in that field, and that is when I found out that going into the chemistry field was not the easy road.
I worked hard to get where I am now, and I am happy with who I have become. Not just academically, but spiritually and emotionally. I like me. I like me very well.
There are many people who will take the easy road in life. Whether it’s with their academic life, or with their own life. They are not doing themselves any favours. It’s easier to send out negativity in the world. It’s not so easy to be the positive light in someone’s life. That is how I want to see myself. The ray of sunshine in someone’s bleak life. The positive that makes up for all the negative that comes their way. For me, this makes everything better. The world is a better place because I am a better person. It’s worked more for me than any pill, drink, ever could. Being a good person: It’s the ultimate high.
Just Another Sunday
I got fed up with my mom today. I love my mom, don’t get me wrong, but her outlook on the world is pretty sad. She thinks that she should be able to stay at home, not follow doctor’s orders and the world will come to her. That’s nice for a fantasy, but back here in reality, it doesn’t work that way. You have to make your bed, wash your dishes, clean your house, take a bath, do laundry, and take out your trash. There’s no magic wand to make it all go away. Trust me, if there were such a thing, it would be a best seller.
She doesn’t eat right, and her health is failing. She wants to get paid for staying at home, so she ‘hates’ her job. Her attitude through out this all is very negative.
She yelled at me today before she left for work. She screamed at Chloe for “being in the way”. What kind of a grandmother screams at their four year old granddaughter for playing on the floor? She yelled at me that I ‘should have’ put Chloe outside to play. Yes, in the freezing, pouring rain? I ignored her ignorant mind and told her that I would re-wash her silverware and then probably go home for a little while. She asked if I was going to listen to Christmas music while I worked, and how “thankful” she was that I didn’t have my laptop anymore to sit on her table and have something constructive to do while I washed her dishes and did her laundry. I replied that I was probably going to watch my Saw movies on DVD while I cleaned. She made another remark at how bad those movies were that all the actors in them did were scream and ‘bawl’. I choked back a laugh. “You mean like you when you have to go to work?” I asked. She grabbed her stuff and hurried out the door.
Seriously, I’m doing this woman a favor by going over to her place to do her house work while she clocks in and then sits in the bathroom at her work and cries all day. She doesn’t even do her work there. She gets my step dad to do it.
Her attitude is appalling. I don’t know what she wants anymore. I’ve done more than my fair share of helping her out and trying to make the best of what she assumes is a bad situation, but there’s no helping her anymore. I almost want to tell her that I don’t care what happens to her house anymore and not go over there. She complains constantly that she has to work, that she’s too old to work, and when I tell her that she could have worked back in the 80s, she gets upset and screams how she couldn’t work an outside job because I was there. Hmm. Really? She was always asleep on drugs, drinking with my uncle, chasing her bar friends around town, complaining about me on the phone to her mother then wondering why her own mother disliked me, but she was never ‘there’.
I have tried to explain to her that maybe she needs help. There’s no shame in being on medication to sort out your mood or emotions, and I really feel she would benefit from something like that, but to suggest that makes her go off the deep end. It’s as though she thinks you’re insulting her or something.
At this point, I am almost done with helping her. I have helped her every single week for the past decade. I have tried and tried to help her with her health, her house work, her relationships, but I think I’ve gone as far as I can go without relying on mental health drugs to help her. I just wish she could see all the relationships she’s permanently destroying while she’s the way she is.
It's Gonna Be A Bright, Sunshine-y Day
I added a couple of new pages to my site.
A profile page and some rules. Don’t forget the rules! 
I had some other pages that I wanted to make, but I’m on a tight schedule right now, between classes, juggling a new professor, and homework that I didn’t do this week, so my other professor is going to single me out like crazy in class this afternoon. Plus I tore my favourite shirt of ten years today, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw it in the trash. This is the second time I’ve ripped my clothes in those flimsy auditorium desks. Oh well. If anyone in my home town sees a woman running around with ragged shirt seams, say hi to her. Really loud. It’s me. You know you’ve just been waiting for an excuse to talk to me off of the web!
Speaking of rules, in one week Dennis and I are going to The Premiere. I post-poned my clothes shopping because I wanted to wait for him to get home, and now, we can go pick out a dress for me. I’m actually falling back into old habits of starving myself for a few days and then eating something small like half a sandwich. I noticed my other family members are gaining weight. Sympathy weight, I suppose. But when I get out of class this afternoon, I’m going to pick out the dress. I was thinking of a cocktail dress, but I don’t know if they’re in the stores yet. I know that I’m going to buy it a size or two smaller than I need just to have an excuse not to eat anymore. Bad habits die slowly.
Dennis is bugging me to get ready for class. I’m sitting here half naked and I have less than an hour to get in class and possibly look over my homework before Professor Hateful comes in. Though he’s usually late, he takes points off of our final grades if we’re late or we hand in our homework even one minute past 1pm. Nice guy, huh? Plus, the sun is finally shining after days of cloudy, cold weather. Smile! You’ll feel better!
My life is slowly going back to normal.
I was able to check the mail today. I was able to pay the credit card bill today. I was able to clean the pet cage today. I was able to sit upright without much pain. I don’t know what relieved my pain, but I’m glad that it’s gone. I’m glad that I don’t have to over dose on pills just to be able to sleep through the night. It was good to just be able to go to sleep and wake up in the morning due to the dog shifting around in the bed and not a pain in my legs and back.
I think tomorrow I will ask if I can go to the coffee shop. I feel better. I want to get well. I need to be able to move about again and not be stuck in bed crying over pain that can’t be solved.
Thank you to everyone who wished me well when I was hurting. It means a lot to me, even though I can’t reply to all the comments and emails individually. Love you all. Tomorrow’s gonna be a better day! <3
Today is the last day I can starve myself. Tomorrow I can have solid food once again.
For about a month I have been skipping out on solid food to lose weight to fit into an evening gown for tomorrow. I want to be able to go to the formal with my husband tomorrow, but he wants me to look nice. Or, rather, he blames “Wayne” for wanting me to look nice. He tells me it’s “Wayne” who wants these things from me.
All this time, the only solid food I have been taking in were the pills to stop my pain, and my regular meds. I don’t know if I can even squeeze into that dress. We’ll see tomorrow, right?
It shouldn’t matter to me what others think, but it does. I play dumb. I give people a lee-way out of things, the lies I catch them in, and it never gets any easier. I shouldn’t play dumb. I should nail them to the cross like the liars they are, and not look back.
My friend James tells me this is not in my nature, and when I changed to the forgiveness doer last November, I changed for the better and forever. I have to forgive people for their shortness towards me. He says he likes me better as the forgiveness giving person that I became instead of the vindictive, hateful, snarky bitch I used to be. Life is better as a forgiving person, but many times that vindictive, hateful bitch rears her ugly head and wants vengeance on the world. Especially when people are smug about screwing me over. I want to say the joke is on them–I forgive them for me not them. I forgive them so I can heal, not them. I’m not condoning what they did, I just want to move on. It’s hard when someone is smug about “getting away with” hurting me. It makes it seem like I’m an open door mat, waiting for the next person to come along and screw me over.
Oh, and I’m also partially mad because I went clothes shopping today and I tried on the biggest size shirt that I liked and it was snug at best. All of that sleeping and chugging Mountain Dew these past few months has done terrible things to my weight. I need to get on a diet. I bought the shirt anyway. So what if my boobs can’t fit into it properly? If I diet and lose the weight, I’ll be able to fit into it. =)
So Dennis is gone today. Business trip and all. You’d think I’d be happy with this, what with all the fighting that went on these past few days and his final comment that pushed me over the edge. But, on the way to the airport, we passed our crazy neighbor’s place–I mean this guy dances around in his underwear while waving his hands in the air, really hearing the music–and said neighbor was dancing around. He fell in a manhole in his yard. “Was there a man there a minute ago?” Dennis asked. I burst out laughing. That’s the old Dennis I want back so badly. The old Dennis that I feel is gone forever…
The comment caused many tears to be shed at the airport. For the next month or so, Dennis is going to be gone, filming, in Daytona Beach, FL, and I can’t go because I don’t play the game. AKA, I won’t lie to reporters. I didn’t lie to the reporter at our daughter’s funeral, and I feel the shit is going to hit the fan(s) in a few weeks. So my punishment is to not go to the surfing filming. I don’t get to see the ocean. I was informed of this on Friday, and it drove me to attempt. I’ve never done that before or since, and I know how foolish I was to do it then. Dennis and I said our tearful goodbyes at the airport, and I went home alone.
I wasn’t alone for long. Today I went out for coffee with my friend Matt. The beauty of having Dennis home was he was an instant baby sitter. I didn’t realise how limited I am with kids. I can’t come and go as I please, and I certainly can’t take them everywhere. I had to wait until my father-in-law got off work so I could go out and relax a little. Matt and I were sipping coffee when I said I remembered seeing a Dell computer on sale. Matt’s eyes widened. “Ohmigod, if you buy a Dell I am seriously never speaking to you again. Never!” I laughed. I needed that laugh.
A wasp was in the coffee shop. It landed on an empty table next to our’s. “Kill that,” I said to Matt and pointed at the wasp. “Ohmigod! A WASP!” he hid under the table. Brave man. I took off my shoe and hit the wasp catty-corner. I thought it fell down on the floor, injured. I grabbed a phone book and slammed it on the wasp’s body, then stood on it. “It’s dead! It was decapitated!” Matt said, crawling out from under the table. “Just ‘cuz its head’s off doesn’t mean it’s dead!” I replied. “What are you? Some kind of a psycho?” he asked. I had to smile at that, mostly because he wasn’t serious.
Coming home, I found my friend James waiting for me. We had a long talk, and he accompanied me to the grocery store with Chloe. While we were in checkout, the cashier commented that Chloe had James’ eyes. I never noticed that before, but she does. They resemble each other. Hmm..
In other news: I’m going to see Paul McCartney on August 17th. I hope Dennis is home by then because there’s nothing more I want then to go to the show with him. His colonoscopy is August 10th, two days after his last overseas show, so maybe he’ll be home to go to the concert with me. I want our marriage to work. I don’t want to go through a divorce, but I can’t live with wondering if I’m a danger to myself. Time will tell.
‘Cos you know you should do better” ~ Queen
I frequently have to remind myself that I’m a forgiving person. That I am not a vengeful, wrathful person. Today was one of those days. It bothered me. It still bothers me. I feel vengeful, but I am not going to act on it. I will forgive the adult man, the meter-reader who came by today and maced our friendly dog through the chain-link fence. I will forgive that adult man who reacted to a three-year-old kicking the fence in defense to her pet being maced, by throwing a piece of a brick at her and hitting her in the head, causing convulsions. I’m working on forgiving myself for taking the money out of Jess’ memorial fund to bail Dennis out of jail for kicking the tail of the meter man who maced the family dog and rocked our three year old.
However, I did tell the meter man, who had the nerve to approach me at the hospital while I was trying to see my head-injured baby, that he was lucky it was just my husband home. Had I been there, the police would have been searching for his remains that had been stomped into the ground.
Seriously. What grown man throws pieces of a brick at a three year old who is in her own yard, behind a chain-linked fence, causing her to have convulsions and then has the nerve to confront her mother at the hospital, demanding payment for his medical bills because of injuries he got for assaulting another person’s child?
Apparently they do that here.
Chloe is fine, but she has to spend the night at the hospital tonight. We’ll more than likely get to bring her home tomorrow. Dennis is home. Pissed off, but home.
I forgive that meter man. I shouldn’t, but I do.
Jamie aka: The being known as Wonder Girl, 30, mother of four, wife to one, she is a senior biomedicine student who is learning to fit in in the world around her. After nearly three decades on this planet, she still doesn't know where she belongs. Best friend of Matt, sarcastic, spoiled, apathetic, kutie brat, babe. Just your average woman, living in a not-so-average world, surviving by her incredible super power of being able to see right through you while
accomplishing more tasks than you ever thought imaginable. She is the being known as Wonder Girl and she is speaking, I believe. More? Aren't you brave!
