Posts Tagged 'friends'

Please. Let me be sad.

I love my friends.  I really do.  I have great people around me that have been nothing but supportive.  Most of who read this blog so clearly any and all barking will not be done here…after today.


I am really having a hard time with them.  Nobody will let me just be sad.  I’m fucking sad ok?  Just let me be sad!  Let me morn.  Let me miss him.  Let me cry.

I get it.  He’s a pig.  Yeah yeah.  But the more everyone sits around and tells me he’s a dirt bag, the worse I feel.  It isn’t helping.  In fact, it feels like judgment.  It feels like everyone ganging up against me.  Like I’m no longer allowed to have my own thoughts or feel my own feelings.  Like everyone around me is so afraid that I’m not going to do what it is that they want me to do that they forget that I’m a person that just lost her husband.  Let me be a wreck.  Let me say I miss him!!

Someone recently told me that 97% of my relationship was a nightmare and that I should just move on.  Wow.  Do they really think that I stuck around for 3%?  I mean common.  That’s just insulting.  Do I come off as that weak?  I can’t even imagine what that would look like.  Can you?  3%?  That would mean about 5 hours a year  with Mark were OK.  WTF?   I’d really like to think I’m stronger than that thank you.

It wasn’t until 2.5 years ago that things started to go sour with Mark and I.  Up until then, our 7.5 years together had been almost perfect.  We never fought.  We had fantastic sex like rabbits.  Mark loved every inch of me – and I him.  It was as if there was nobody else on this planet that could make me that happy.  We were even kicked out of the preliminary marriage counseling because we were told in the first session that it was “unnecessary” for us.  Mark and I were fantastic.  We had excellent communication with each other.

So what went wrong?  Well that’s a loaded question.  A few things:  First, our pride and joy, Daisy was killed and it seemed as though our world ripped apart.  We had failure after failure at pregnancy.  Then, we moved to San Francisco – a decision that I think was probably at the top of our stupid list.  Several big changes, and a lot of bad decisions.  All in all, life happened.

We used to be a disgustingly adorable couple.  We made people jealous of us.  Mark isn’t evil and I refuse to believe that he is now. There is a huge difference between evil and illness. He is sick and unwilling to get better.   I understand that.  I accept it.  But Jesus Christ I don’t have to like it.

Let me be sad.  I need to be.  I need to morn and cry.  For god sake let me cry.  I need to do this.  I need to remember why it is that I married him.  Not because I am looking for a reason to get back together with him.  I’m not that weak.  But the more everyone tells me he’s horrible the more they are judging me.  My choices.  My decisions.  My life.

It’s not what I need.  It’s not what I want.  I want to cry.  I need to cry.  And I don’t need to be told what to do.  I think I’ve proven already that I make decent choices.  Stop making it seem as though I’m incapable of doing so.


I need a moment.

Ever have one of those moments when you’re reorganizing your life and you find out that The Container Store discontinued your color? Oh and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, your bff laughs her ass off when you tell her because she’s dead inside (I think she peed a little bit).

I am, in fact, living this dream.

You all know me right? I label. My life has order and symetry. I can’t deal with this color disaster. It’s far too great an investment to switch to a new one. And mixing!?! Ugh

I’m still looking for a solution – sans laughing bff who I’m probably gonna give the silent treatment for at least 3.58 days – and until I find one, I’m gonna be mopey and sad like a 3 year old who doesn’t get to use her crayons on her bedroom walls. This is worse than being laid off.

Container Store? Why you dissin your best customer? Why why why!!

*To be fair, being laid off wasn’t really that bad at all. In fact, it kinda rocks. Well…it did until my life fell apart at The Container Store.

Can we talk about something else now?

Hey is anyone else as sick of hearing me bitch as I am?  Waa my husband left.  Bla bla he lied, bla bla he took money blech.  I’m sorry but there is only so much pitty I can take on myself before it starts to sound like one of those long ass parties that everyone wont leave from, but you are sick of and want to just go to bed.  I know there is still much more to come of this craptasticle situation, but for now, let’s move on shall we?  We’ll come back to it I assure you.

Want to hear something funny?  Well, its funny to me.  In fact it gets me gigglin just thinkin about it right now.

For the past couple of months I have been hangin out with a new crew.  A group of girls that get together every Monday night to have a “ladies night” away from their husbands, kids and problems.  One might call it a mommy group of sorts – being as everyone has children (with one obvious exception).  These ladies are all so fantastic.  I have really enjoyed all the time I’ve spent with them and can’t believe what great people they all are – even though we do spend a large amount of time talking about diapers, breast feeding, the funny things children ingest, etc.

Why is this funny?  O man.  It absolutely cracks me up.  I love spending time with them and look forward to my Monday nights with the girls.  And yes I’m the stand out infertile baron one.  But it doesn’t matter?  They don’t care.  And for some strange reason, I don’t care either.  As we all know I’m complicated, but a mommy group?  I may love my Monday night baby chats, but fuck if you’ll ever see me at a baby shower.  How is this possible?  OK I’ll let everyone judge me for a second now.  OK time is up.  Its ok.  I’m still gigglin.

So for the last couple of weeks I have made sure to keep my Monday night appointment with fun even in the midst of fuckdom.  And I cannot say it enough.  These ladies have totally been supportive.  In between the discussions of preschool and singing lessons, each one has managed to say to me, “we got your back”.  And ya know what?  I really think they do.  It just feels so nice to have friends.  A posse of sorts.  I shall call them my Uterine Crew.

I suck at hiding I think.

OK I kinda had to come out of the cave.  It got really smelly in there.  I’m blaming the unruly bat that kept farting all night.  Stupid bat.

I don’t even know quite how to say thank you to everyone for all the comments.  Its unbelievably amazing to me that the world is full of complete strangers that know exactly what to say when you need them.  My friends aren’t even that good to me.  Nothing can make a girl feel better than being popular right?  Dude.  You made me feel like I was the most popular cheerleader in school.  I almost got the courage to call that skinny bitch on MUNI out and tell her she’s fat and ugly and nobody wants to hear her phone conversation.  But I didn’t because I remembered that I am only virtually cool (for one post only) and lost my confidence.  She could still send me back into the cave with one look up and down let’s be real.

And just because there’s simply nothing funnier than dogs wearing clothes, I give you – Sandy in my sweatshirt:

And if it bothers you that I have tortured such an innocent little animal with horrible embarrassment, watch it again.  See?  That’s funny shit.

I’ll update later on the holy christnuckels shitstorm of my life….

Friend’s are sometimes good for making babies.

I’ve been gone.  Ya noticed?  I finally had a life.   I know it may surprise some people that at one time I was actually pretty cool, but I assure you there was a time I stayed up past 11 and went to cool parties.  I know right?  No way!  But really folks.  I did.  800 years ago, I was cool.

My friends from Los Angeles came up here to spend a few days with us and we got to remember what it was like to go out all the time and talk about nothing but the entertainment industry.  Who’s doing what, who just signed with who, which show is getting canceled, bla bla bla.  All that good stuff that reminds me why I moved, but still made for a really great few days with old friends.

It just reminded me how much I like my life.  I’ve been feeling very bla lately and ya might say depressed.  Mark and I have been fighting a lot for no reason, and I’ve been over stressed about stuff I have no control over.  Its made for some craptacular few weeks.  I came this |<>| close to telling my friends that now wasn’t a good time for a visit, and I’m really glad I didn’t do that.  We needed them.  We needed a break from our life and the ability to step back a few feet and look at ourselves from a different perspective.  I’m happy to report that we looked pretty awesome.  No bad fitting room lights or anything.

One funny lil moment from the last few days?  We went out for dinner and Kate wanted to order a bread sampler platter.  Bread sampler?  Random right?  But damn if it wasn’t unbelievable.  We sucked it down like it was air.  When we got home, Kate came out of the guest room with a very serious look on her face and said “Guys, I have to tell you something.  This is pretty serious and I’m kinda freaked out.  I’m pregnant.  I am carrying a baby that I lovingly created out of bread.  I’m pretty sure its a girl and I’m going to call her Cheddar Biscuit.”


Are you thinkin what I’m thinkin?…

How to design an apartment in 5 easy steps:

  1. Make sure you prep for the day by drinking several martinis the night before so that you are well on your way to a hangover for the day of fun at hand.  After you are good and sauced, go check out the new apartment.  Hopefully this will be your first time seeing it.  Its very important to take measurements before you head to the store so get out those feet and walk it out.  (Don’t write it down.  Your awesomely impaired memory is completely fine for this)
  2. Agree on an early start.  Always important when you have a big day planned.  Then chack back and make sure you have successfully accomplished step 1 and roll out of bed only when the phone rings asking where you are.
  3. Go to Ikea.  The world’s most horribly amazing place.  An entire apartment fits on 1 flatbed cart.  I know right?  Crazy!
    1. (Side note:  Coffee will seem like a good idea, but isn’t really going to do shit for you.  If you feel like fainting, keep it to yourself.  This isn’t about you, silly.  Eye on the prize people.  You are decorating an apartment!!!)
  4. About the time you are in line to purchase said entire apartment, you will mostly feel a rush of energy that causes you to say things like “Let’s go to Target now”  and “We still need to get a lot of stuff today so we should keep going”.  You need to be careful here.  This is not real.  You need to stay focused.  Get some food in yourself – preferably something greasy – and head home.  You still have 2 flights of stairs to go up to get stuff IN this place.  (You should be feelin pretty normal about the time you get to the apartment.  And that odd twinge you have in your back?  Ignore it.  Just bringin you down man.)
  5. Just for shiggles, check out the apartment again.  Then make a foot doctor appointment.  You obviously need to have your over-night-growing-feet-measurers checked out.

And there you have it.  A whole new apartment of stuff.  That you helped pick out, Ikea delivered, someone else put together, and all the while you take credit.  Isn’t decorating hard work?

O and just because it couldn’t go without sharing, check out these bowls for sale at Ikea.


I mean are they kidding me with this?  I know they’re all differnt over there in Europeland but seriously??


One of my high school best friends died.  I am in a weird place about it.  I’m incredibly sad.  Really can’t believe it.  I just found out and I am still processing it, but going back and forth between sadness and guilt.

We had sleepovers every weekend.  We did Ouija boards in the closet and got super scared when we thought we were talking to a real ghost, who told us who each of us would be going to prom with, and was wrong on all counts.  We lied to our parents, went to parties, and slept in cars because we had no house to go home to – since we were sleeping at each other’s houses of course.  We ditched school, spent way too much time shopping or at the beach, dated the same boys – er, I stole her boyfriend and dated him for 2 years?  We spent every Friday night driving around, hanging out, being stupid, creating a quadrillion funny/happy memories.  Memories that I still actually think about often and use them to make me smile.

I’m sorry Mika.  You will truly be missed.

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