"Remember this, It's alway OK not to say anything. You don't have to talk. " = Vinny Morrone
I called my Dad today. We talked for a while about whatever and I reminded him of the time he said this. He asked me about the context of his comment. I told him it was probably because I was saying something stupid. I don't know. My dad is a funny man.
More on Dad later. I have a headache and need to go eat and get some good reading glasses etc etc.
Thursday, 3 April 2008
the beam is up
Joe came over this morning to check out the leak in the ceiling. He also told me that the landlord will be putting a deadlock bolt on the door which made me glad, as I was headed back out to Home Depot to get a chain lock. My new pal Bonnie told me that they have these chain locks that you can actually lock from the outside. Interesting. I guess the idea is that you get the lock PLUS the added feature of convincing outsiders that you are home. So I'm glad he's putting the extra lock on the door. He allowed me to spackle, sand and paint the bathroom wall, where I tore the bubbling paint off after the last heavy rain.
I took the liberty of going after every crack in the wallboards I could find. I think I'm going to repaint the hall and dining room since Joe said he painted about 10 years ago. It could use a fresh coat. SO...maybe I can stay here after all. Instead of focusing on moving, I can focus on how I am going to increase my income...Which is way more interesting than that sick dizzy feeling I get when I imagine picking up again. If and when that happens I am going to get 2-3 men from Freehold to do the job. I'll pay them well and buy the lunch and drinks.
Today I refinished my FA rocker. I started inside and when the fumes from the stain became too strong I hauled it outside. I took an old sheet, put the rocker and opened Minwax stain can on it, and went back inside for something. While inside, I got busy with other little household tasks, and forgot about the rocker out there. During the course of an hour I needed to pack up laundry, clean the kitchen, sand the spackle, one thing led to another and I eventually found my head under the kitchen sink looking for my hammer to hang a picture in the den. "What the heck am I doing here?" This thought led to my cleaning out the area under the sink. I went to put some stuff into storage which is right next to the front door. While opening the storage door, I happened to glance out the front door and see, to my horror, a stream of brown stain leading over the edge of the balcony. OMGosh, Oh.... NO....I could see that the sheet had sucked up a lot of the stain but was unsure what was going on with the rest of it that poured over the edge...
I ran to get some towels and my wonderful 7th Generation Household Everything spray. I kept telling myself to calm down. When I got back out there, I discovered that the rocker itself had started to absorb some of the stain. I basically donned some gloves and used the stain on the sheet to do the rest. The stain, as it turned out didn't make it off the balcony but stopped under the railing. It's all solid fiberglass deck covering out there and cleaned up well. After a coat of stain I put this stuff called Howards Orange Oil Wood Feed and Finish. It came out really beautiful and took no time at all. Maybe an hour to do the whole thing. So nice to see the beauty of the natural wood grain coming through. I am so happy I saw this rocker in the trash. It's from the late 1800s or early 1900s. I would LOVE to know it's history.
I have not been eating well. Need to go out and get real food and a work out.
I had a diary once. I remember not knowing what to write in it. So I decided to keep track of home improvements my dad was doing at the time. My one entry: The Beam is Up. It's sort of a joke in my family. Sort of. Like nothing else going on. The beam is up.
I took the liberty of going after every crack in the wallboards I could find. I think I'm going to repaint the hall and dining room since Joe said he painted about 10 years ago. It could use a fresh coat. SO...maybe I can stay here after all. Instead of focusing on moving, I can focus on how I am going to increase my income...Which is way more interesting than that sick dizzy feeling I get when I imagine picking up again. If and when that happens I am going to get 2-3 men from Freehold to do the job. I'll pay them well and buy the lunch and drinks.
Today I refinished my FA rocker. I started inside and when the fumes from the stain became too strong I hauled it outside. I took an old sheet, put the rocker and opened Minwax stain can on it, and went back inside for something. While inside, I got busy with other little household tasks, and forgot about the rocker out there. During the course of an hour I needed to pack up laundry, clean the kitchen, sand the spackle, one thing led to another and I eventually found my head under the kitchen sink looking for my hammer to hang a picture in the den. "What the heck am I doing here?" This thought led to my cleaning out the area under the sink. I went to put some stuff into storage which is right next to the front door. While opening the storage door, I happened to glance out the front door and see, to my horror, a stream of brown stain leading over the edge of the balcony. OMGosh, Oh.... NO....I could see that the sheet had sucked up a lot of the stain but was unsure what was going on with the rest of it that poured over the edge...
I ran to get some towels and my wonderful 7th Generation Household Everything spray. I kept telling myself to calm down. When I got back out there, I discovered that the rocker itself had started to absorb some of the stain. I basically donned some gloves and used the stain on the sheet to do the rest. The stain, as it turned out didn't make it off the balcony but stopped under the railing. It's all solid fiberglass deck covering out there and cleaned up well. After a coat of stain I put this stuff called Howards Orange Oil Wood Feed and Finish. It came out really beautiful and took no time at all. Maybe an hour to do the whole thing. So nice to see the beauty of the natural wood grain coming through. I am so happy I saw this rocker in the trash. It's from the late 1800s or early 1900s. I would LOVE to know it's history.
I have not been eating well. Need to go out and get real food and a work out.
I had a diary once. I remember not knowing what to write in it. So I decided to keep track of home improvements my dad was doing at the time. My one entry: The Beam is Up. It's sort of a joke in my family. Sort of. Like nothing else going on. The beam is up.
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
her day in the sun
Rameal...Ramiele...Ramele...Vermeal. Beautiful voice. Cute face. Sad clown mouth. Played right into the 'poor baby' image. That happens with tiny girls when they get around tall women...if they let it. I was kind of getting tired of the tears and the perfect hair in her eyes. And the long teeshirts. Long Tees and spandex. I used to wear stuff like that to the gym. I probably still should. Cover that thing! But I never enjoyed my '80s clothes. I actually hated the 80s styles right into the 90s and was thrilled when the grungy/gypsy look came back in. Remember...your pleated stone washed jeans with waistbands that folded down, angled into a V at the zipper? You had them. I saw you in them. I have a picture!
Remiele will do well anyway. She'll probably get offers from Carnival Cruises.
Short women everywhere are probably feeling a little relieved. It was uncomfortable watching her under the armpits of her 'big' sisters.
So that's where Bo Bice came from.
turn your eyes
Della, turn your eyes away
we shouldn't view this scene
I'm searching for an answer
in a place that's just obscene
and I know there's no corruption
in your history to view
but it's burned within my memory
can't delete it when I'm through
Turn your eyes away
I buried my convictions
along the weary road
well they were getting heavy
for the other stuff I towed
and I had to choose the latter
for the former was quite old
and it seemed a little corny
for those stories had been told.
And then I found the answer
old Della here will do
no one else would ever know
nor give a rat's tattoo
and I could be my own boss
and do it all at home
no longer on the beaten path
old Dell and I could roam.
To Google was my pleasure
I'd do it day and night
while looking out for trouble
I could Google any site
I steered away from porno
and kept my nose from crime
but soon my roaming eyes would lead
to downloads of sublime.
it was a wild adventure
while sitting in my home
my back grew fat with cellulite
my legs were more like foam
I lost some of my vision
my feet are cold and numb
goodbye to feeling in my hands
hello to stiffened thumb.
and then one day it happened
I landed on an image
I had not seen before, he stood there
on line of scrimmage
the scene was somewhat tainted,
"I shall not look", I sainted,
but caught myself in quite a stare
My mother would have fainted.
From a place down deep within me
I heard the preacher cry
"Dear woman what have you begot?
A sight for sorry eye"
I swear I didn't do it
it came up on my screen
I didn't search for 'nudity'
I searched for sompin' clean.
I turned around there in my seat
and felt a sudden void.
it's something I've been missing
the real John McCoid.
I'd filled my life with Della
and lost all essence of
the beauty of my real life
and with that, real love.
I turned back to the stranger
and wished him for my own
but frankly I'd be more impressed
with much less of a bone.
I clicked him off and turned my thoughts
back towards that weary way
and asked the God who saw my sin
to clear my mind that day.
Della, turn your eyes this away
you need to view this scene
I'm searching for an answer
from the One who is Serene
His seed is incorruptible
and planted in my soul
will redirect my weary mind
Lord, cleanse and make me whole.
Turn your eyes this way!
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
dashed
But Dominick had passion and a strong chin~ Aw... I think they sensed he was the odd one out to begin with. What did he make as his signature dish? Was that Banquet chicken and Rice-A-Roni? All the man needed was a little time and direction, for Pete's sakes. I blame Bobby. The timing was all off and he took the fall. Scallops are very tricky to begin with. And then, when they asked him how many he tossed, he increased the number to 30. An honest man is hard to come by in Hell's kitchen. I guess he was just too good to last.
PF Changs has the BEST lemon scallops in the entire world. The Kung Pau Scallops are great too.
smokerman
Rain could be pounding the top of his head. Hail the size of golf balls. Not a problem for Smokerman. The only catch is that someone has to let him in, let him out, and serve him hot chocolate and sweets in between. Soon he'll be accesssing the internet. Adult Medical Day Care. For all of your addiction care needs.
Monday, 31 March 2008
What Became of Her (mystery in verse)
I wondered
what became of her
she left without a show
and if she meant
to leave that way
and where she had to go
the house is on the way
she'd be sweeping every day
and one time waved hello
like someone that I know
I wondered
what became of her
I saw it on the front page
her family had no clue
they offered up a ransom
for the whereabouts of Sue
So Susan was her name
and sweeping was her game
and without another thought about
the fortune or the shame
i made it my intention
to find out
what became of her
they boarded
up the windows
and posted not to go
into the house of mystery
along this busy road
the path out to her mailbox
she swept clean when it snowed
I couldn't help but ponder
was it taxes that she owed
and wondered
what became of her
The brightly colored awnings
had faded over time
the swing that kept it's secrets
was caked with soot and grime
the front steps creaked apologies
the porch was less than kind
it swallowed this unwelcome guest
but left the clues behind
and lying on my back
beneath the rotten shack
recovering my breath
my sweeping brush with death
I discovered what became of her
This was not her body
and this was not a bone
for down there in the darkness
quite sure I was alone
back on my feet I felt
the sudden urge and knelt
and prayed a prayer of thankfulness
that I had not a welt
but knew what had become of her
I grabbed then for my cellphone
and dialed 911
I knew that Sue was resting
where dialing is not done
that she was in a 'better place'
than where I had my knee
otherwise, the swing above
would surely be dirt free
and that's what had become of her.
I broke it to the family
said not to be depressed
She's "somewhere else, a better place"
but they were not impressed
they billed me for the porch repair
and sued me for the rest
I could not argue for my side
that Sue would not agree
but understood their pain and let
the burden fall on me
I'd guessed what had become of her
Still I'd wonder what became of her
and where she laid her last
and was I right in thinking
the ghost of Sue had passed?
And then one day, I heard that
she had surfaced in Toledo
she'd gone to meet a relative
who's name was Cousin Vito.
She'd fallen for the butcher there
who owned a nice estate
and there they made their fortune
putting meat on every plate
And back home folks were stunned
that sidewalk sweeping Sue
would live to find another life
Ohio then, who knew
she'd chosen what become of her
So I was right, then, all along
a better place would do
a home with love and laughter
a path to sweep with Rue
and a porch which welcomes everyone
with a swing which carries two
Toledo's bestest butcher
He was swept away by Sue!
And that's what had become of her.
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Saturday, 29 March 2008
drama in artificial life
She's screaming at the top of her lungs. Blood curdling Rage. She HATES him, she screams. She doesn't hate him. She hates that he lies and ignores her when she needs him. "I don't know WHY do I even BOTHHHHEER WITH YOU"? My question for the past 4 months. He had told me he didn't HAVE a GF. I suppose that's how he feels. She's not his GF. Not the way he sees it. She should ask him...so what am I to you? Not that she doesn't already know. That's where the scream originates from.
That's it. Disengage here.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From my own experience and nothing else I have concluded that a woman who throws tantrums with the force of a two year old, must not have received the usual demonstrative symbols of affection in infancy and toddlerhood and beyond. While it could be the result of all kinds of mental or emotional disturbance brought on by chemical imbalances, PMS, alcohol, drugs....Hungry angry tired lonley, I think there's a root of bitterness in this kind of thing. A very deep painful wound which is reopened when love is withheld. Even if just perceived that way.
There is a certain awareness a girl develops when she grows up watching her father treat her mother well and visa versa. Obviously children learn what they live. There have been numerous studies which conclude that babies need to be held in order to thrive. To grow physically, they need to be held and hugged and kissed and spoken to with loving words. I believe this extends to the mental, emotional and spiritual growth as well. As for little girls, as they grow they need all this AND special words and memorable experiences with the first man in their lives. And if not from Dad, from some man or men. They need to learn what is normal and acceptable. Otherwise the jackasses of the world will confuse them later on. Take em for a ride and throw em off a cliff emotionally. Same thing for boys. Somebody's got to be there to point the way, and not just with words. Loving Interested Actions.I guess that's what fathering is about. Guidance and direction and example. Sad that sometimes the Dada can be the Jackasses.
Of course I could be wrong. I recognize that there are all kinds of other situations in which little girls grow up ( fatherless daughters, part-time dads, abusive or silent dads) and in each family there are dynamics which affect the life long patterns of response and clearly a girl who has to deal with men in life benefits from having a healthy baseline of information and experience.
Anyway, I am talking about 'Nobody's Princess' here, and how we will try to fill that void for the rest of our lives, and sometimes come to a place where we just give up!
The fight is still in there...the needs exist but you just won't allow a man to get that close. If the woman could just read a couple of books on the subject, such as " He's just Not that Into you, or Make Up, Don't Break Up, or The Blessing" she might be able to gain some understanding into the reason for her pain. Learn how to avoid these situations. Stop being so dam furious when she is turned away. I could be wrong. I am wrong a lot, but there is something about going home again if at all possible, to get that blessing which hopefully will restore emotional freedom. Otherwise, the next guy has to be able to give unconditional love or at least be able to calm and convince the damaged little girl that she is loved beyond words. I believe the tantrums are wearying. Red lights flashing. Train is coming. As a imperfect person but someone who considers herself a Christian, I can be just as nasty. I've got ALL kinds of miserable baggage and the scriptures to support my side. But that's a two way street if you are with a bible believing man. For example, there is a proverb in the bible: "Better to dwell on a rooftop than with a contentious woman."
I've heard that one before. Men who are well versed in the Bible have the 'good wife' scriptures ready and in position for the launch. It's usually in defense. To me, any man who whips out a scripture, which conveys my failure as a woman, is a monstrous jerk. Proverbs 31 for example. The virtuous woman. I TRY to be virtuous. I DO! Or Ephesians 5, for the married couple. Telling a man to love his wife as his own body, and the wife, to see to it that she respects her husband. It's really beautiful. But in a fight, especially during PMS,I can see myself saying, "How convenient to minimize the part about loving the wife as your own body..." That would be followed by some derogatory name like ' you little worm' or 'peabrain'. This is why I am not WITH anyone. Who could stand me? Well, it's not all the time. And I am genuinely sorry. But scripture ought never be shot like an arrow or dagger from your holier than thou back pocket.
So it goes on. I find the most distant area upstairs to get away from it. I hate hearing this. Meanwhile he's heard this all so many times that it means nothing. He knows how to quiet her down. Just another fight. Muffled voices. Doors slamming. Sudden silence. Taking it outside. Good. After several months I get it. This is the norm. But I don't want to live this way! Look, guy downstairs, I just want to live in peace and quiet. Happy noises are OK here, but this screaming her brains out is tiring.
====================================================================================
that's it. the rest is just me over thinking about marriage. Feel free to disengage.
So this is what it's like in those 'dysfunctional relationships'. Oh yeah...my old life. This is a babbling brook of a post. A stream of consciousness without any direction but leading out to Home Depot hopefully before it gets dark.
I guess where emotions and cycles of abuse are involved it's hard to end things. Worse to let em drag on, but this is how some couples live. I used to live in a similar situation, only married, and from the inside, you can't really see your way out of it. I would tell him I was going to leave one day and he would say, "WHEN? You keep telling me that. Come on, I'll help you pack." And one day, he did. I can laugh about it now.
I had been saving up items from yard sales and off the side of the road and putting together a room down in the basement which I referred to as 'the cottage'. It was my therapy. A place of refuge and hope. Maybe it gave him hope that I would actually leave one day because he never complained about it. Actually complimented me on my little 'Irish cottage' down there.
Looking back I laugh because I had put it in front of the washer and dryer where I could have some peace from the tyrant upstairs while doing laundry, which is always a comfort. Since moving out of there, I've had to haul laundry to a laundromat. As for my ex, he moved back home with the folks and is situated right near the washer and dryer and is very content in his 'Italian Cottage' basement.
We all learn stuff about ourselves from each relationship and my marriage taught me that I am a pill to live with. A regular pain in the ass. Disorganized. Lazy. Somewhat Anti-social. Creative. Friendly. Non demanding of depth. Superficial and unreachable romantically. Maybe. Funny in a strange way, and virtually unaware of what it takes to reach a man emotionally. Not a clue. I have some ideas from books. Like Lincoln. But the main thing I learned was that I needed someone who had very few expectations and lower standards so I could far exceed whatever they were and succeed as a wife. I also need warm conversation, affection and to be appreciated for my cooking and nesting skills. That's it. Anyway, we're friends now (after 3 years he came through financially during a very severe crisis thank you), but back then I would lose patience with his behaviors and become a screaming banshee, soon reduced to tears, and scratching my head, wondering what the heck he wanted and why I was with him.
I'd run off to heal, but always come back and try again but each time there was more distance and less trust. It became clear within a few months that we were in trouble. One insulting and humiliating episode after another without love. After a period of a few years I sought help from counselors and therapists. We attended a marriage seminar. Useless. I owned several marriage books but had no desire to read them. There was no music. No color. No hopes or dreams or anything. It was just an empty desert of pain and misery with bursts of thunder and lighting and a lot of rain and then nothing. I blame myself for pushing for marriage based on our friendship, without realizing how lame I actually was at deeper relationships. He just made it easy to avoid depth, because he didn't require anything more than what I am. He accepted me as I was and that was that. Let's go to a movie. Unfortunately I had NO idea of what I was getting into. We really do much talking, the man and I. That was fine by me. I talked to people all day. Give me a break. Anyway, when things weren't good I would leave the scene. I always did run away from noise and when I was rejected or treated badly, that was my way. It still is. Hello Goodbye. Never bond and you never really hurt, as I later realized.
I don't want to discuss our faults here. We were both sorry for the way we treated each other and realize that we were just not a good marital match. Not so sure how one goes about determining these things. Sure would have been helpful to have some premarital counseling prior to making that decision. It was my decision made during a time of duress and he just went along with it. I tend to create smoke screens to keep from dealing with life's anxieties and the wedding was a nice example of that. I had no knowledge of the dynamics of my own choices. You just do whatever you know at the time. I tend to stay in the mediocre for so long and then get bored and either run towards the unknown or perceived change or flee from it. Nothing big that happens in my life is gradual. It's always a suddenly thing. I don't go out with someone for so many years, get engaged and plan a wedding like most people. I wish, but seem to become impatient. He had been hanging around for a few years ( knew him from the age of 15, we had dated on and off until I was 25) and thought he loved me. I felt the same way. Romantic notions? There were no romantic feelings. We weren't involved physically. The lack of interest should have been a sign but I tend to miss the big ones. Love is a strange thing I had yet to realize. People I knew thought this this ultimate fairy tale. "He's always loved you!" For me, marriage was a sensible thing to do. 35, single. Nothing else going on. Why not a husband, sex, memories and children? Seemed right to me. It's like I was Dr. Spock of the Starship Enterprise. Logical, Jim.It's not like I didn't like the man. I liked him very much. He was my date on date night and never thought i was fat or ugly. I liked the way he cleaned. And raked my leaves! What more could a girl want? Of course I loved him. He was good to me. Respectful. Kind. Generous.
And so, we went along with it. Rode that tide right up to alter, not knowing much about how it would be. Seemed right. Who needs passion? What is it anyway? Strange how I had lived most of my life not knowing what I needed, or how to get away from what I didn't need. An emotional crippled idiot. It's like letting a drunk drive. People who can't feel stuff shouldn't be jumping into marriage because it's OK....it's gotta be THE ONLY THING YOU CAN DO BECAUSE YOU JUST CAN'T STAND TO BE APART and you just gotta BE with that person. Oh the grief we caused each other is a sad thing. Divorce is a sad thing, though we didn't seem very upset at ours. He took me out to Friendly's for lunch afterward. The whole 2 years we were separated there were no scenes, no asking me to come back. He had taken a roommate in who never offered him a dime, and still no tears or fits. 5 months after the divorce he blew a fuse over my dating someone. I chalk that up to his male ego. Of course I was supposed to remain dateless forever.
I guess it happens in some of these arranged marriages, right? Couples who don't know each other fall in love.
But you know, even when it seems right, couples still have to learn to get along, to learn how to fight constructively, to look past certain personality traits, and to know when and how to confront behaviors which can kill a potentially good thing. There's gotta be something there. Passion. Trust. Humor. Touch. Communication. Shared experiences and common interests. Gentleness and understanding of differences. Helping to lighten each other's load. You know, being good to each other. Putting the other guy first. At least half of the time. Blessing each other. Sticking by and having each other's back. Anyway...
Here is interesting thing I learned recently and actually from a guy I met. The more understanding and tolerance you have, the more the other person is supposed to love you, right? Wrong. Actually he told me that the more you give a person, the more you love them. The more they give, the more they love you. You can't GET love by loving and doing. Love is never bought with gifts time affection or assistance, though we each have our needs and to meet them is important as doing so builds trust and respect. Right? And a certain love comes out of respect. But to try to use understanding and meet needs in order to GET love is simply manipulation. You can't force anyone to love you. Why would you want to? Maybe because it's a desire we all have and sometimes we think we know how to get it.
I recently read that in order to find an emotionally available person to connect with, you have to be emotionally available. Otherwise you hook up with emotionally unavailable people, and push them into these pseudo relationships.
I guess if you are happy with that sort of person it works well. You can actually fall in love with a person you can't reach emotionally. It can work fine if you can't be reached either.
What happens when enough people hurt you and leave you feeling bad about yourself. You lose faith and trust in Human love and fall into idolatry of various types which counterfeit relationships.
I like the idea of friendship. It allows for coming and going without the expectations, and has a chance to grow into something more.
I think it's a good starting place but without and that special chemistry which can spark into something passionate and exclusive, it's just a friendship. Without communication which is able to resolve the inevitable conflicts in a respectful healthy way which draws the couple closer in the end, it is best left right there.
That's it. Disengage here.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From my own experience and nothing else I have concluded that a woman who throws tantrums with the force of a two year old, must not have received the usual demonstrative symbols of affection in infancy and toddlerhood and beyond. While it could be the result of all kinds of mental or emotional disturbance brought on by chemical imbalances, PMS, alcohol, drugs....Hungry angry tired lonley, I think there's a root of bitterness in this kind of thing. A very deep painful wound which is reopened when love is withheld. Even if just perceived that way.
There is a certain awareness a girl develops when she grows up watching her father treat her mother well and visa versa. Obviously children learn what they live. There have been numerous studies which conclude that babies need to be held in order to thrive. To grow physically, they need to be held and hugged and kissed and spoken to with loving words. I believe this extends to the mental, emotional and spiritual growth as well. As for little girls, as they grow they need all this AND special words and memorable experiences with the first man in their lives. And if not from Dad, from some man or men. They need to learn what is normal and acceptable. Otherwise the jackasses of the world will confuse them later on. Take em for a ride and throw em off a cliff emotionally. Same thing for boys. Somebody's got to be there to point the way, and not just with words. Loving Interested Actions.I guess that's what fathering is about. Guidance and direction and example. Sad that sometimes the Dada can be the Jackasses.
Of course I could be wrong. I recognize that there are all kinds of other situations in which little girls grow up ( fatherless daughters, part-time dads, abusive or silent dads) and in each family there are dynamics which affect the life long patterns of response and clearly a girl who has to deal with men in life benefits from having a healthy baseline of information and experience.
Anyway, I am talking about 'Nobody's Princess' here, and how we will try to fill that void for the rest of our lives, and sometimes come to a place where we just give up!
The fight is still in there...the needs exist but you just won't allow a man to get that close. If the woman could just read a couple of books on the subject, such as " He's just Not that Into you, or Make Up, Don't Break Up, or The Blessing" she might be able to gain some understanding into the reason for her pain. Learn how to avoid these situations. Stop being so dam furious when she is turned away. I could be wrong. I am wrong a lot, but there is something about going home again if at all possible, to get that blessing which hopefully will restore emotional freedom. Otherwise, the next guy has to be able to give unconditional love or at least be able to calm and convince the damaged little girl that she is loved beyond words. I believe the tantrums are wearying. Red lights flashing. Train is coming. As a imperfect person but someone who considers herself a Christian, I can be just as nasty. I've got ALL kinds of miserable baggage and the scriptures to support my side. But that's a two way street if you are with a bible believing man. For example, there is a proverb in the bible: "Better to dwell on a rooftop than with a contentious woman."
I've heard that one before. Men who are well versed in the Bible have the 'good wife' scriptures ready and in position for the launch. It's usually in defense. To me, any man who whips out a scripture, which conveys my failure as a woman, is a monstrous jerk. Proverbs 31 for example. The virtuous woman. I TRY to be virtuous. I DO! Or Ephesians 5, for the married couple. Telling a man to love his wife as his own body, and the wife, to see to it that she respects her husband. It's really beautiful. But in a fight, especially during PMS,I can see myself saying, "How convenient to minimize the part about loving the wife as your own body..." That would be followed by some derogatory name like ' you little worm' or 'peabrain'. This is why I am not WITH anyone. Who could stand me? Well, it's not all the time. And I am genuinely sorry. But scripture ought never be shot like an arrow or dagger from your holier than thou back pocket.
So it goes on. I find the most distant area upstairs to get away from it. I hate hearing this. Meanwhile he's heard this all so many times that it means nothing. He knows how to quiet her down. Just another fight. Muffled voices. Doors slamming. Sudden silence. Taking it outside. Good. After several months I get it. This is the norm. But I don't want to live this way! Look, guy downstairs, I just want to live in peace and quiet. Happy noises are OK here, but this screaming her brains out is tiring.
====================================================================================
that's it. the rest is just me over thinking about marriage. Feel free to disengage.
So this is what it's like in those 'dysfunctional relationships'. Oh yeah...my old life. This is a babbling brook of a post. A stream of consciousness without any direction but leading out to Home Depot hopefully before it gets dark.
I guess where emotions and cycles of abuse are involved it's hard to end things. Worse to let em drag on, but this is how some couples live. I used to live in a similar situation, only married, and from the inside, you can't really see your way out of it. I would tell him I was going to leave one day and he would say, "WHEN? You keep telling me that. Come on, I'll help you pack." And one day, he did. I can laugh about it now.
I had been saving up items from yard sales and off the side of the road and putting together a room down in the basement which I referred to as 'the cottage'. It was my therapy. A place of refuge and hope. Maybe it gave him hope that I would actually leave one day because he never complained about it. Actually complimented me on my little 'Irish cottage' down there.
Looking back I laugh because I had put it in front of the washer and dryer where I could have some peace from the tyrant upstairs while doing laundry, which is always a comfort. Since moving out of there, I've had to haul laundry to a laundromat. As for my ex, he moved back home with the folks and is situated right near the washer and dryer and is very content in his 'Italian Cottage' basement.
We all learn stuff about ourselves from each relationship and my marriage taught me that I am a pill to live with. A regular pain in the ass. Disorganized. Lazy. Somewhat Anti-social. Creative. Friendly. Non demanding of depth. Superficial and unreachable romantically. Maybe. Funny in a strange way, and virtually unaware of what it takes to reach a man emotionally. Not a clue. I have some ideas from books. Like Lincoln. But the main thing I learned was that I needed someone who had very few expectations and lower standards so I could far exceed whatever they were and succeed as a wife. I also need warm conversation, affection and to be appreciated for my cooking and nesting skills. That's it. Anyway, we're friends now (after 3 years he came through financially during a very severe crisis thank you), but back then I would lose patience with his behaviors and become a screaming banshee, soon reduced to tears, and scratching my head, wondering what the heck he wanted and why I was with him.
I'd run off to heal, but always come back and try again but each time there was more distance and less trust. It became clear within a few months that we were in trouble. One insulting and humiliating episode after another without love. After a period of a few years I sought help from counselors and therapists. We attended a marriage seminar. Useless. I owned several marriage books but had no desire to read them. There was no music. No color. No hopes or dreams or anything. It was just an empty desert of pain and misery with bursts of thunder and lighting and a lot of rain and then nothing. I blame myself for pushing for marriage based on our friendship, without realizing how lame I actually was at deeper relationships. He just made it easy to avoid depth, because he didn't require anything more than what I am. He accepted me as I was and that was that. Let's go to a movie. Unfortunately I had NO idea of what I was getting into. We really do much talking, the man and I. That was fine by me. I talked to people all day. Give me a break. Anyway, when things weren't good I would leave the scene. I always did run away from noise and when I was rejected or treated badly, that was my way. It still is. Hello Goodbye. Never bond and you never really hurt, as I later realized.
I don't want to discuss our faults here. We were both sorry for the way we treated each other and realize that we were just not a good marital match. Not so sure how one goes about determining these things. Sure would have been helpful to have some premarital counseling prior to making that decision. It was my decision made during a time of duress and he just went along with it. I tend to create smoke screens to keep from dealing with life's anxieties and the wedding was a nice example of that. I had no knowledge of the dynamics of my own choices. You just do whatever you know at the time. I tend to stay in the mediocre for so long and then get bored and either run towards the unknown or perceived change or flee from it. Nothing big that happens in my life is gradual. It's always a suddenly thing. I don't go out with someone for so many years, get engaged and plan a wedding like most people. I wish, but seem to become impatient. He had been hanging around for a few years ( knew him from the age of 15, we had dated on and off until I was 25) and thought he loved me. I felt the same way. Romantic notions? There were no romantic feelings. We weren't involved physically. The lack of interest should have been a sign but I tend to miss the big ones. Love is a strange thing I had yet to realize. People I knew thought this this ultimate fairy tale. "He's always loved you!" For me, marriage was a sensible thing to do. 35, single. Nothing else going on. Why not a husband, sex, memories and children? Seemed right to me. It's like I was Dr. Spock of the Starship Enterprise. Logical, Jim.It's not like I didn't like the man. I liked him very much. He was my date on date night and never thought i was fat or ugly. I liked the way he cleaned. And raked my leaves! What more could a girl want? Of course I loved him. He was good to me. Respectful. Kind. Generous.
And so, we went along with it. Rode that tide right up to alter, not knowing much about how it would be. Seemed right. Who needs passion? What is it anyway? Strange how I had lived most of my life not knowing what I needed, or how to get away from what I didn't need. An emotional crippled idiot. It's like letting a drunk drive. People who can't feel stuff shouldn't be jumping into marriage because it's OK....it's gotta be THE ONLY THING YOU CAN DO BECAUSE YOU JUST CAN'T STAND TO BE APART and you just gotta BE with that person. Oh the grief we caused each other is a sad thing. Divorce is a sad thing, though we didn't seem very upset at ours. He took me out to Friendly's for lunch afterward. The whole 2 years we were separated there were no scenes, no asking me to come back. He had taken a roommate in who never offered him a dime, and still no tears or fits. 5 months after the divorce he blew a fuse over my dating someone. I chalk that up to his male ego. Of course I was supposed to remain dateless forever.
I guess it happens in some of these arranged marriages, right? Couples who don't know each other fall in love.
But you know, even when it seems right, couples still have to learn to get along, to learn how to fight constructively, to look past certain personality traits, and to know when and how to confront behaviors which can kill a potentially good thing. There's gotta be something there. Passion. Trust. Humor. Touch. Communication. Shared experiences and common interests. Gentleness and understanding of differences. Helping to lighten each other's load. You know, being good to each other. Putting the other guy first. At least half of the time. Blessing each other. Sticking by and having each other's back. Anyway...
Here is interesting thing I learned recently and actually from a guy I met. The more understanding and tolerance you have, the more the other person is supposed to love you, right? Wrong. Actually he told me that the more you give a person, the more you love them. The more they give, the more they love you. You can't GET love by loving and doing. Love is never bought with gifts time affection or assistance, though we each have our needs and to meet them is important as doing so builds trust and respect. Right? And a certain love comes out of respect. But to try to use understanding and meet needs in order to GET love is simply manipulation. You can't force anyone to love you. Why would you want to? Maybe because it's a desire we all have and sometimes we think we know how to get it.
I recently read that in order to find an emotionally available person to connect with, you have to be emotionally available. Otherwise you hook up with emotionally unavailable people, and push them into these pseudo relationships.
I guess if you are happy with that sort of person it works well. You can actually fall in love with a person you can't reach emotionally. It can work fine if you can't be reached either.
What happens when enough people hurt you and leave you feeling bad about yourself. You lose faith and trust in Human love and fall into idolatry of various types which counterfeit relationships.
I like the idea of friendship. It allows for coming and going without the expectations, and has a chance to grow into something more.
I think it's a good starting place but without and that special chemistry which can spark into something passionate and exclusive, it's just a friendship. Without communication which is able to resolve the inevitable conflicts in a respectful healthy way which draws the couple closer in the end, it is best left right there.
Friday, 28 March 2008
what to do
I called the management. The carpenter, Joe answered. He said there were landscapers all over the place yesterday and seemed shocked that anyone would bother to let themselves into someone else's apt. He said the owner was coming back from Florida on Monday and that I should call back then to discuss my concerns as well as the leaky bathroom ceiling. If he can't do anything to make me feel more secure, I think I am going to move. That's alright. It'll all work out.
you know you're losing weight when...
your underwear leg holes are all stretched out and you think you've been putting em on wrong...or someone else has.
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