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Ebb and Flow

It all started on Tuesday evening…with the knowledge of Jacques and the girl I had befriended who had been dating. Ya. I threw up a little too. What followed was a 24 hour rip tide that ebbed and flowed in any direction.

At the end of it all.

I’m not sure exactly how I feel about everything. Nonetheless, here’s the story.

So. I found out about Jacques and the girl at the sailing club with whom he is dating. They don’t show it at the club. But I am smarter than they give me credit for. PLUS she’s all “I dunno what’s what with him and I” and I’m all…WHY AM I SITTING HERE LISTENING TO THIS. I can’t be that girl.

But I need to start at the beginning of this 24 hour shit show.

Tuesday night is racing night. I couldn’t find someone to race with so I hunkered down on the patio. (Best patio in Vancouver). And by chance, my friend (SSC)from Sudbury ended up being in town for Tuesday night only and she came to the club to join me for dinner.  By the time she joined me, it was 8pm and the racers were coming off the water.

This included the new girl and the rescue crew – inc. Jacques and a myriad of others.

SSC met the new girl. She didn’t like the new girl.

Later returning to my car, I saw new girl and Jacques talking in the parking lot. She basically raced out after he had left the patio. And as I saw them chatting. I got angry.

Angry at myself that I was letting this get to me. Things that I cannot control. Mad at myself for letting myself open up to him and her at different times when obviously that was a mistake. Pissed that I still don’t know how to pick decent friends sometimes.

Thank god I was with SSC. She and I had a fantastic gab session until 1am at my place. Not just about me and my lil world, but about life and love and work and all those things. Hate that she lives so far away. But on the flip side, our time together is much more meaningful when we do get it.

Continuing with the flow, after less than 5 hours sleep. Go to work. Where I did some google searching about tooth pain and came to the conclusion I needed to see a dentist as I suspected I have a bottom wisdom tooth  coming in and it was becoming infected.  So i took off work at noon and departed for the dentist.

Since I had time, I figured I would run an errand. During the running of the errand. GUESS, who I ran in to? JUST EFFING GUESS?

FilmGuy.

YES. FILMGUY!

Which was civil. It was fine. He’s now directing. He’s now making $3500 a week. He now can afford things. He seems calmer and more at ease with life. I still feel he blamed me for holding him back which is absurd. He’s still with his new girl. I’m glad.

That was the longest 20 mins of my day.

3.5 hours later.

It was determined that sometime during the late 80s/early 90s that a dentist removed my adult 3rd molar to make room for “new teeth” coming in. After the full mouth x-ray, the “new teeth” turned out to be my wisdom teeth.  Apparently this practice was the “thing to do” by dentists out of California and a lot of BC dentists apparently adopted the now defunct idea of removing molars for wisdom teeth.

I now need to find a new dentist who can remove the bottom teeth. Preferably without the need for surgery.

By the time I got home, I was beat. Exhausted. Mentally. I had a nap. Couldn’t even bring myself to open emails or attempt to do some work.

An hour later. I zoned out playing beach volleyball and just played. Didn’t think about anything else. Just hit the ball, passed the ball, set the ball on repeat.

Then went home to bed. WHERE the NEW GIRL was texting me. And I don’t reveal me. I just respond to her. This is a fine line. I don’t want to throw wrenches into the works because I see her almost every weekend. But I can’t remain close with her. Just not sitting right. Detour required. Major detour required.

I finally rested at midnight. Where I stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep thinking about the ebb and flow of the last 24 hours.

Somehow there’s drama because I care. I care about people. I care how I’m treated and how I treat others. It irritates me to no end when that consideration is not reciprocated.  However, with the full knowledge that I can’t do anything about it. And possibly that is what frustrates me the most. I can only control how I behave or how I process things. That is logical thinking. That’s how I am trying to be. Finding my zen if you will.

But the Gemini side of me wants to light Jacques boat on fire and write bad reviews for every film/tv show FilmGuy gets to direct.

Ebb and Flow.

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High Anxiety

Since Sunday…so many things have caused my anxiety to soar.

First is one of my own making since I decided to be a Glutton for Punishment and sail on race day with Jacques. WTF WAS I THINKING??? I haven’t been able to get his annoying, scolding, voice out of my head, AFTER we had just finished racing. I just wanted to leave. I just wanted to cry. He treated me like a child from the get go all because he wanted to go faster, he wanted to compete. It was not ideal.  I just didn’t want to listen to HIM anymore. I made a stupid decision. A stupid mistake. A lesson in humility and ego bashing, but also it’s cost me some level of respect or opportunity in the future to possibly go on one of these boats again with someone else. Possibly. Time will tell.

It’s four days later.

Wish I could shake his voice out of my head.

I woke up to his voice yelling inside my ears.  And it’s still going.

ALL OF WHICH MAKE ME WANT TO HURL.

I still feel sick to my stomach.

Racing. Not. For. Me.

I should know me better. I do know that about me.

Second, work. bleh. not going to talk about it really except it’s boring and repetitive and it pays the bills.

Thirdly, school. I had a final yesterday which I really didn’t study for. At. all. Because I was working and playing instead. Who takes a course in Summer???

Fourthly. And this is possibly the real catalyst for my anxiety. The decision to take the opportunity to reconnect with my father. It’s been a 16 years since he and I last spoke. Unfortunately, the love of his life passed away and common decency and good upbringing dictates that I least send a sympathy card. Now the big question, do I open the door for contact with placing my return address on said card? Do I even want to have the hope that he will contact me? Do I want to be contacted? Do I just want to send the note and leave it at that? Or do I want to not do anything?

There is no timeline on this. It will never be too late to send the sympathy card. It’s already been over three months since her passing. My half-sister told me in April and gave me our father’s address at my request.

But the question “What do I want….” keeps rolling through my head.

Right along side Jacques the Asshat screaming “GYBE” and “Fuck” and “You know what your problem is….”

All of this makes anxiety.

Very High Anxiety.

love stinks.

my mind is a jumble. it’s not made up. i thought i was heading in one direction. it turns out i have no clue where i want to go.

Apparently FilmGuy emailed me some long torrid and revealing email and I never received it. there was a time in the last three weeks where i didn’t receive email from anyone. (thanks hotmail). and because i didn’t even answer his outpouring heart whatever he wasn’t going to text me. but he did. now the problem is that i’m curious to know. know why he turned into an ogre about everything. why he was being childish and angry? where does that behavoir come from?

I’ve been to enough therapy to know the answers to my childishness and anger issues and really work hard at making a choice to not let that crappy crap crap stuff rear it’s ugly head. Am I perfect at it? no. But I know I work at it.

I think this forum has a very biased view of FilmGuy because all I’ve ever talked about here was the bad stuff [It’s the same with my family and friends and even though I have no regrets…I’m beginning to regret being such a verbal waterfall]. It’s very easy for me to focus on the negative in all aspects of my life and in turn spew it to the supportive world of the internet and in a 10Km radius. I think it’s only fair to divulge some of the amazing stuff too.

For the majority of our relationship he made me feel as if I was the most beautiful woman. He would always send love notes in the mail via postcard or letters [aside from the few i tore up and threw in his face….mature right?…I kept everyone of them]. He made me laugh almost everyday. He taught me to see the bigger picture of life and made me rethink how I want to be in my life. I have personally grown because of him and was looking forward to our life together. Moving forward together.

Instead he asked me to move out. He didn’t want to be in a realtionship anymore. He needed space. He needed time. He needed to grow. Without me around. He couldn’t work on us until he worked on himself. I knew this. I have known this. I just didn’t [still dont’] really understand fully how I was a burden to that process. And how come since I moved out he became a total jerk towards me.

The kicker is, IF he hadn’t been SUCH a jack ass since I moved out with the derogatory commentary, unwanted texts and assholeish behavoir I don’t think I would be so undecided and conflicted right now.

Why am I undecided and conflicted?

When I met FilmGuy for a drink – where I drank water.  He’s told me he’s seeing a therapist. I actually have met the therapist guy informally. So I know he’s real. I know they have been talking. What is unclear is for how long they have been talking for.

FilmGuy also started saying all the things that I’ve wanted to hear from him from the past two years that I know he had in him and that he would eventually admit and learn. He admitted his childish behavoir over the past couple of years and how he was unable to do this and that and say this and that. And he admitted he was angry and childish and stupid and that he fucked up when he texted and behaved like a stupid boy since I moved out. But he never really went into why…because he did that in the emails he sent…which I never got. I want to know why. Why did he act like that. Why couldn’t he be a man and stay longer than two hours at my grandmother’s wake? Why couldn’t he follow up his words of support and what not, with actions?

All because you were acting like a selfish child? taking me for granted? you weren’t there for me? How can you say you change so much of your repetative behavoir in the last three months?

My role in all this [because relationships take two] is that I couldn’t nag anymore. I didn’t have it in me to be assertive and steadfast in my convictions anymore. I couldn’t care about his mood anymore. I couldn’t take care of myself second anymore. So I stopped. Physically I was there, mentally I left. I admit it. My heart was walking away. Was walking out the door. Because I couldn’t have him drown me mentally anymore. But physically I was willing to stay. Because I knew he could find this part of himself. I knew this part existed. There was no doubt in my mind.

I still love him. I know a part of me will always love him. I wanted my life with him. I wanted the future with him. Because overall it was going to be fantastic.

A part of me still wants a future with him and the happiness I know in my heart that it would bring and be.

FilmGuy says he finally understands what i’ve been trying to say about money and responsibility and cleaning and making the bed and about shutting the effing kitchen cabinet doors [not necessarily in that order]. He says he now recognizes his own personal barriers about himself that he didn’t realize were even there – has he elaborated? probably in those goddamn emails. I’m glad he is recognizing these things in himself and that he wants to grow and mature and is actually making steps.

Here’s the kicker of everything.

He wants me to forgive him.

He wants me to be open to the possibility of us.

 He wants me to move forward with him.

He wants to be there for me.

He wants to take me to Puerto Vallarta for xmas.

He wants me to know my ring size.

He wants to marry me.

What do I want?

I do not know.

I know what I wanted. I wanted him. I wanted him to want to be apart of my family and my friends. I wanted my life with him.

What I do know.

My family will never accept nor like him for what he has put me through but they will support me. My mother will support me but it would be with the utmost reluctance. My friends would support my decision, but may never accept him nor like him.

I didn’t want to be in this position. I didn’t want to be living by myself. I didn’t want to be furniture shopping and moving forward in my life without him.I didn’t want to be angry at him for letting me go just like my father did.

My heart hurts.

i hate….i love….

i hate that i feel like i’m disconnected to NewMan [currently trying to re-connect as i type].

i hate that i haven’t travelled to an awesome destination since my journey to Egypt and London in 2009.

i hate that NewMan is travelling for work every couple weeks to a random place in the USA. And not the tourist destinations of USA…more like the “as seen on tv – backwater redneck hickvilles where everyone carries a gun and doesn’t know where Canada is” USA.

i love that my mother and i found sheer curtains for $9 at a second hand store.

i love that i know for the next year i don’t have to worry about eating only KD and hot dogs. stock options are great.

i love that i pay cheap rent.

i love that the home  i share with NewMan is starting to feel like our home to me. only took 1.5 years.

i love that our puppy is a part time puppy shared with his ex. this means i don’t have to deal with puppy when NewMan is away. Pros and cons.

i love that i have a job.

i love that i have made the decision to return to school and gradually learn new things [and is also a good tax deduction].

i love that my girls came over this past friday and NewMan vacated 🙂

i love that i’m able to run for 3 minutes and walk for 1 min for a total of 3 KM. i also love that i am not good at math and therefore cannot tell you how many miles that is.

so glad that there is more love than hate.

Expected to Happen One Day, Unexpected it Happened this Day

I wanted to get this posted sooner, but somethings just take time to write.

Monday, Jan. 31st 2011 at 7:18AM. My phone started to *quack*. This would be the ringtone I have assigned to my mother. For many reasons I should change it, especially since it drives our cock-a-poo Noodle insane. But that is a discussion for another day.

I was in the bathroom, starting the daily repeated task of putting on my eye make-up so with one hand applying eye shadow I wasn’t going to answer. We had no plans pending for the day or that week. We had nothing really to discuss. But all of a sudden I knew. I knew why she was calling. It’s amazing how much you can think of in less than five seconds. I knew why she was calling….or so I thought. I answered the phone -“what’s wrong?”  already feeling the heaviness and dread in my heart as I already thought I  knew the answer. I thought it was “nana’s had to be admitted to the hospital” instead, my mother was barely able to say the words “nana passed away this morning at 5am.”

I sunk to the bathroom floor. Which is a mighty accomplishment considering how small our bathroom is. My mom continued to speak. I heard her say something about how she went “peacefully in her sleep”, “[she] and step-dad were there” and that they [her and her siblings] were at the hospital tending to paperwork and other things. There were no plans for the day. Call and talk to Meg [cousin].  She said she’d call later.

I was trying not to do the ugly cry. But I obviously was unsuccessful as I could hear my man asking what’s wrong from the bedroom. So I made my way through the two closed doors into the bedroom and crawled back into bed. Half ready for work. And hung up the phone with my mother.  I texted cousin Meg. Emailed work. FilmGuy got me water and multiple calls were made back and forth between mom and I and Meg. Plan was set. The cousins that live in Vancouver were heading to the tsawwassen [ttown] beach [Nana’s home] regardless of what our parents wanted or said.

Meg and I picked up our cousin Ian from UBC, went to ttown, stopped at Thrifty’s where we purchased some lunch stuff and made a run for the liquor store and picked up 24 lager beers to go along with Meg’s raided liquor cabinet. It’s never to early for a cocktail.

We arrived that the beach home. Nana’s home.

The day was filled with tears, hugs, unwanted details and surprisingly less warfare between my mom and her siblings than I anticipated.

Meg and I made a sandwich buffet complete with coleslaw and cookies. No one had eaten anything since the night before. No one wanted to eat. But we made them.

Upon speaking with my step-dad, cousin Jess and I got a lot more detail then I wanted to know. Nana did not go peacefully in her sleep. My mom and step-dad had been staying at the beach because Nana had the flu for the past four days. Nana woke up at 5am that morning and she wasn’t right. Apparently, it all happened so fast. Step-dad said that Nana was requesting to go to the hospital [she had a habit of doing that regularly, so there was always assessments going on of the urgency]. The decision was made that this was urgent. A split second decision that this time, they weren’t going in Nana’s car. They were calling 911 to go. The Fire Department arrived then the paramedics. Mom stayed downstairs while Step-dad stayed in the room for as long as he could to be with her.  I’ll spare you the gruesome details. But I will say this, thank you to all the EMT’s and Paramedics who did everything they could to try and keep my 89-year-old Nana alive.  Thank you to my Step-Dad who was with my Nana till the end, I can’t imagine how painful it is to watch someone you love pass away and be “worked on”.

After I finished that conversation, the rest of the day was quiet. Certain things had to be done on Monday that couldn’t wait. Like move money to accessible accounts so the estate can function during Probate. You need to use whatever points on whatever cards you have because they aren’t usable another day. Surprisingly, my mom and her siblings were working together. All the animosity that had been present in years past was erased. Animosity that should have never been there at all mind you.

All the cousins went through pictures and helped sort a box that needed sorting. It was just something to do. Some played “UNO” – a ttown beach past time. Other mind numbing and useless conversations took place that day.

But it didn’t matter. No one wanted to be alone. No one wanted this day to be real.

Eventually family left, some of us went for dinner then went home.  Some went to the airport to pick up family flying in.

The next day I went to work. My mom and her siblings started to keep busy by going through the beach house with little stickers with their names on them. Trying to hold on to things that remind them of their mother. Also, no one wanted to stop moving for fear of the ugly cry.

This event is not unexpected, but damn, you thought you’d at least get to say good-bye.

who needs a calf?

no i don’t own a calf that goes moo, but I did tear my calf muscle. who needs it right?

well apparently, if you ever want to stand flat footed or walk heel-toe, a calf is important.

this is way worse then my broken toe.

right now, i’ve been to the ER twice in the past two years. it’s like reliving my years as a child being accident prone and sport injury proned. it sucks.

unlike my broken toe injury this torn calf muscle was not alcohol induced. thank goodness. actually i was playing volleyball. only the third time i’ve played vball this season and the first time i’ve played indoor in years. needless to say I’m slightly pissed off at this. I had finally gotten back into the groove of running. i had found my happy place. i was falling in love with it. now this.  I’m out 5-6 weeks from running. hopefully i’ll be walking in 10-14 days. currently i’m hobbling. no crutches. no cane. it’s a slow go.

i must admit FilmGuy was pretty awesome. he answered his phone when i call [which isn’t necessarily a given depending on what he’s up to and whether he actually hears it ring] and he came right away picked me up and took me to the ER at St. Paul’s Hospital. The only downtown hospital. It wasn’t too busy for a Tuesday evening. Arrived at 8:45pm left at 10:00pm without my discharge papers….whoops. Oh well. I remember what the Doctor said except for the name of the anti-inflammatory shot that he had the nurse give me. The needle was HUGE and my arm was stinging for about a minute…. “holy mother of god” is pretty much what I kept saying while rolling my eyes.

So now I am Resting, Iceing, Colding [?], Elevating my leg, even while at work, and have scheduled a physio appt for tomorrow morning…too soon? but for the first 24 hours…just chilling and relaxing. Now. if I could only flex my foot.

good thing it’s September and Fall TV is starting.

Cheers

don’t forget to check your boobs!

it is a happy day. but it is also a reminder to all ladies [and some men???]. check your boobs regularly!

the story. my half-sister [same father] was diagnosed with cancer of the breast this past February.

it was detected after her first mammogram at the age of 40. it was only her FIRST mammogram!!!

in the past 7 months, my sister’s positive outlook on life and the stage one situation never wavered. The support of her husband of 17 years and the rest of their family and their 15 month old puppy Kwando has been strong and constant, she is now able to say she is Cancer FREE!!!!

this isn’t the first time that the beast of the breast has infiltrated my precious and priceless world.

my 89 year old nana [mom’s side] is a cancer survivor – they were radical in treatment when she got it….age 50ish??? they lopped off the boob. obviously they got it. obviously she’s amazing and hilarious…because at 89 she isn’t sure why she doesn’t have that boob. love her.

my aunt [mom’s side] was diagnosed with cancer of the breast a couple years ago too.  Her’s has been a battle. But she’s amazing and wonderful and funny as heck and she’s beating odds and i believe living C-FREE as well.

due to the family history of the BIG C attacking such lovely ladies – my boobs are getting squashed in that mammogram machine five years earlier then the recommended age of 40. And if you’ve been following this blog and doing that math. That trauma is only 4 years away.

In the meantime, I have 4 years to religiously feel myself up on a monthly basis to make sure nothing is infiltrating me. FilmGuy offered to help me accomplish this feat.  i said only if i get to do it to him.  fair trade right?? 🙂

Happy day everyone! And don’t forget to CHECK YOUR BOOBS!