A Flying Cat - Entry for November 13, 2006

Another amazing video I will not click on is flashing before my eyes as I write this post to my blog.

I had an eventful and tiring day. Totally blushed out a few times at work. [this means that I was embarrased to the point where my cheeks became flushed and red -- oddly enough, I actually felt one of them creeping up my face today]

I am the consummate people pleaser. If I created something new or pretty, I want to show someone.

As Lisa Simpson once said, "Grade me! Look at me...evaluate and rank me! Oh, I'm good, good, good, and oh so smart! Grade me!"

That's how I feel sometimes. I don't do it to be pretentious or make other people look bad. I love being the best at something [everything]. I know that I should not be like that because when I do fail, I take it personally. Then I try even harder till I am stressed and sad. Maybe that is why I stayed in my relationship so long with my ex-husband. I kept trying and trying even when it was killing me inside.

All the while, sometimes I just long for someone to hold me and caress me. My girlfriend *N* used to come up to me at work and play with my hair. If I were a cat, I would have purred. I need stuff like that, and it's not happening. Even my kids don't want to cuddle much. They are so boyish. They would rather be Ninja Turtles and kick at each other *sigh*

But aside from all THAT, I feel rested and wonderful for the most part. My throat still has a resident by the name of Bert the Frog. He doesn't leave. I will have to get some Vick's Throat Spray or something.

All in all, a very boring post.

The Girl Sitting Inside Me - Entry for November 12, 2006

Everyone perceives me to be this light funny person. There are times when I am talking with a friend or laughing in a chat room and I can't recognize the person I am. I am quick to make laugh, giggle and blush, and in truth, I want to be that way. I love being happy and feeling alive. But inside of me there is a sad girl watching the events and constantly judging me. I wonder if she is who I am suppposed to be, and the laughing, smiling girl is the one I pretend to be.

Sometimes, she is so vivid that I can see her. And this sad girl is always watching. She sees everything that I do. Sometimes, when I imagine her, she is wearing the little party dresses my mother used to make me go to school in. Her knees are tightly pressed together, and her hair is pulled very tightly into a ponytail. She is the girl who never smiles. She is the one who had the horrible child hood, horrible siblings, and the bad stories to tell.

When I am alone with my thoughts, she is who I become. She has written most of my journals. I hope one day the two with melt together. Perhaps it happens with age.

Trash Strewn on the Lawn - Entry for November 11, 2006

As per my custom, I collect all the trash in the house, tie up the trash bag(s), and then place it outside my front door. I do this so that the next time I go out, I can walk the trash to the trash bin. Well, last night, I put two bags of trash outside and told myself I would walk it to the bin in the morning. I did not end up going outside until around 10:30 a.m. Much to my chagrin and embarrassment, an animal had grabbed one of the trash bags and ripped it to shreds. The kitchen trash was strewn all over the lawn and in my driveway. I already feel I have the worst lawn in the neighborhood. (My ex never cared about it, and would never allow me to cut it [yes, he actually said he did not want me cutting the lawn].) I have cut it now a few times, but because of the lack of preventative care, the grass is generously sprinkled with crab grass and weeds.

I felt like, okay, here is a now a divorced single mother, with a horrible lawn, a fence that I can't afford to clean the graffiti off of, and now trash. My neighbors must hate me. So I frantically grabbed two trash bags and picked up everything off the grass. Sprayed down the drive way. Looking miserable I am sure.

As I was standing there, feeling the eyes of my unseen neighbors and home bodies, I felt the irony of my situation. What is my life but a lawn strewn with trash. Crab grass and weeds choking out the beauty and substance. This sentiment is not fair to the wonderful people I have in my life, but that is what was going through my head.

Stuff About Me - Entry for November 10, 2006

When I was a child, my mother would tell everyone, even strangers, every detail about our lives. It would mortify me. I always thought it was to gain sympathy. Sometimes I fear I am like her because I too do not hold much back about myself.

I know she loves me in her own way, and I know it would hurt her to read this if she could. But the truth is the truth, she was not a good mother.

I guess that is why I take such pains in making sure my children get the mother they deserve. I have not really discussed my children online. This may be construed many ways, but for me it is because I love them. They have a right to their privacy and their thoughts and hopes and dreams. It is only up to me to nurture those aspirations inside them. To be their confidante.

They are the most beautiful beings that have ever touched my life. They make me smile, make me dream, and make me want to give them the best life possible. They make me proud to be a human and to have compassion and empathy. They make me want to get my degree. My sons are truly my inspiration. They have a complete and total love that I have never received from anyone. As such, they are the recipients of the best parts of me. I will never be too tired or too upset to play with them. In my more selfish moments, I wish I could freeze time and make sure they never grow up. I quickly dismiss that idea because I see how much they learn and absorb new ideas. I want to see that. I want to be the one that helps them grapple with life's problems.

I know one day they will grow up and leave, but until that proud and sad day, I will be their rock. I might not ever show them my writings and musing, because to them, I am the strongest person in the world. To my sons, I know everything and I can answer all their questions. I never want them to see the weak, confused and hurt woman that I feel I am.

Today's conundrum: "Mama, I thought we eat animals that died already. How can so many animals die to give us food? *his eyes widened* Do the farmers kill the animals, Mama?"

Today also marks an important event for me. I was talking with someone very wonderful. But I guess I am not ready to take things further with anyone right now. Unlike Vanessa the mother, Vanessa the woman is not ready to take on life's challenges.
*sigh*

In the morning . . . Entry for November 8, 2006

The hardest thing with having so much more responsibility is choosing what gets put off. Whether in life, with my home, with my schooling. What do I choose? I have so many things to do at work. Sometimes I feel like screaming. Do not get me wrong, I finish all my work and I try to make sure everything meets with my standard of perfection. [I often find flaws with what I do after I finish it. It's usually negligible. Spacing issues perhaps, but it still bothers me.] But I get things done on time and with what I like to think is a beautiful finished product, so they give me more work and more work.

Then I get home and there are dishes, and kids clothing, and lawn maintenance, and broken things, and light bulbs, and guinea pig cleaning, and and and. ... I just don't know how I can handle it all right now. It helps that I really like the people I work with, my children are the most awesome little humans on the planet, and my butt still manages to get everything done. I fear that one day I won't be able to keep up with all the demands placed on me.

I guess my online life thus far has helped me deal. I have an escape that is readily accessible. I just go for a ride in a chat room or talk with a friend, and now, sing in karaoke.

My fears are just below the surface though.

Flowers and the Universe - Entry for November 07, 2006

Looking around my office at work, there are two distinct themes: space and flowers. On both computers in my office, I have pictures of planets and one super nova. And on the walls are flowers that I have drawn or that I relieved from an old calendar.

There really is nothing to connect the two except my love of their esthetic beauty.

From my art, one can see that I like stark backgrounds. Space is the ultimate backdrop for our existence. Stars and planets seem to be hung on invisible strings and I find it so beautiful. To know that our small solar system is hung up among so many others is awe inspiring. I wish I could be like the characters in the sci-fi books that I read and travel among the stars. My fascination with science fiction truly has nothing to do with my appreciation of the beauty that is space, but it does give me a way to imagine myself being there.

Flowers, while small, hold that same effect for me. They evolved into these beautiful and delicate life forms for the sole purpose of being beautiful enough to attract a meandering bug or bird. Flowers faintly cry out to these creatures and say, "love me, eat from me, taste of me so that I may grow again somewhere else." They may litter someone's yard or fill a field with their fragrance, or like in my office, pose in their plastic and print reproductions, but which ever way I see them, I love them.

Note to Self - Entry for November 05, 2006

Wrote this while I was in computer science classes. My mind was overloaded from reading lines of C++ and little to no sleep.

Note to self:

Exfoliate the plains of my mind
Sweat out the impurities
Scrape off the Immaturities
Like a layer of
dead skin on the flesh.

Peel away the glossy veneer
Sear back the rictus
Open up my data bases
Repair the traces of
my deviated superego

Skeletons - Entry for November 05, 2006

This is a little midnight rhapsodizing. Put to music does not sound so bad, but in a poem, not so good. My first attempt at poetry in a long while: *cringe*

Skeletons

I've been mired in the madness of my misery

Stuck inside the turmoil that I called my sanity

But then I told you my secrets

And you told me yours

Our skeletons took their hands

And danced across the floor

I've been searching for the answers to questions I don't know

Looking for the clues to the soul I thought I'd lost

But then you held me beside you

And made me dream again

A welcome blush and fervent kiss

To last until the end

Information Super Highway - November 4, 2006

Since my breakup (yes, I know, stop talking about it, blah blah), I have started chatting quite a bit. In my new chat home, and one that I used to call home. I have found so many interesting people who do so many interesting things. I love to dig inside their brains and nest for a while. It is something that I used to want to do as a child. It bothered me that I didn't know what other people were thinking and how they led their lives.

My clearest memory of feeling this way was when I was a passenger in my mother's car on the freeway. One never needed the freeway in my home town, so when we used it, it was an event. I can remember peering outside the windows at the people in the other cars. I wondered if they were on vacation or just driving home from some other city. What I wanted most was for a passenger in the other car to look at me and wonder about me too. A connection. Chat is the ultimate freeway. Not only can I see people coasting along, I can jump into their cars and take a ride with them.

Stupidty Reigns in this Kingdom - Entry for November 02, 2006

I will never learn how to read people.

I was working with a mortgage lender and they promised me a lot of things. I got the documentation to prove it. So, on the day of signing (after I had spent the money that would have normally been used for the mortgage), it turns out that everything was different. From the fee amounts, to the cash-out, and to the length of the loan. EVERYTHING. Unless someone can miraculously pop out of my crappy life and give me money, I saw no other option but to sign the loan documents.

Of course, in a few months I can also refinance, but just getting duped again and being played for a fool was humiliating. The notary they sent to my house stared wide-eyed at the big discrepancy between the numbers I was given (which I showed her), and the numbers on the loan.

So, again, Vanessa + Stupidty

Excitement and Enticement - Entry for November 1, 2006

Don't ask me why or how or when or (et cetera), but I've been feeling happy. The last few days have not been as depressing. The gaping, achey wound that is my heart has not been so bad. I feel better than I have in a long time. I dunno know if it will last, but it sure feels damn good. When I walk around the office, I am not jealous of other's happiness anymore. I hated that feeling. I hated walking around with that hole in my chest and wondering why no one could see my pain.

It's not like it was a secret at work anyway. There are people there who would empathize. But it was not their place to ride this roller-coaster ride with me (more like ship in a tempest).

Back to the happiness --> I've been giddy and happy, flirtacious and generally cool with things. Nothing seems to daunting at the moment.

The only thing that brings me down is not having someone to truly share it with. I would not want to share it with my ex for anything in the world. But I know laying next to someone, laying on my side and looking at them while I talk, maybe hugging, would truly be nice.

<=== does the guinea pig hop-skippity dance anyway ===>

I have to post my guinea pigs hopping someday.