The Nightmare is Over

All that's left is the recovery.

A little over a year ago, our house in the small town went into foreclosure. Despite attempts to pare down and literally ignoring every other bill with the exception of the car payment (so I could go to work), we finally reached a point where we could not make payments on a consistent basis. This was in large part due to being underemployed and employed in a position where the pay was not dependable in any fashion, but my layoff well over 18 months ago had a huge part in it as well.

As the "breadwinner" in our family for a good number of years, this particular news struck me with a force I cannot explain. It was the most emotionally damning and damaging piece of news I've gotten in a good number of years. The inability to provide the most basic of needs for my family- a roof over their heads- damn near crippled me as a functional adult.

I did the "right things"- I called our mortgage holder repeatedly and often. I tried everything I knew and some things I had only heard whispers about in an effort to save my family's home. I worked insane hours- often driving myself to exhaustion and frustration in an effort to salvage that beautiful place I called my home.

For many months, I told absolutely no one. I hoped (desperately) that we'd find a way to get out of the situation; that modification would work; that I'd get a better job- ANYTHING- would happen to change my situation. I was beyond ashamed; embarrassed and disgusted were daily emotions. I finally broke down and told a limited number of people- honestly, it was just my parents.

I wish I'd been able to give my parents any other news than: I'm a complete failure and I can't keep my family indoors. The response was not great- but some glimmers of hope came out of  the wreckage that was my pride. I  got through the Christmas season almost entirely on my mother's good will; and tried to right my ship with what looked to be a very promising job.

That job fell through and I wound up with literally no income. I broke down an applied for family assistance and went back to working a backbreaking and emotionally tolling job to bring ANY money into the household.

I got hired back at a former employer in March, and I started making preparations for the reality that we were going to lose the house. I'd tried negotiating with the bank again at that time, and the news wasn't good. I got a letter in the mail from a short sale specialist, and I took the time to call him up and ask a million and one questions. The process took a very long time and I almost changed my mind several times. We moved into a rental that my parents lovingly co-signed on for us just about a month ago.

 The move nearly undid me- in many, many ways. Almost none of my friends and family knew the WHOLE story- but they showed up in droves to help me regardless. In the process of moving, my cookbooks were lost. The loss of that single box id more than heartbreaking- it's damn near killing me. My cookbooks are such a big part of who I am and how I function in my group of friends. So many of our friends love my Dude and I'm often crippled by insecurity that they don't like ME. So I bake as a way to cement my place in the circle- I show these people how much they are loved through good, handmade food, and they like it so I know they like me. That's been taken from me and it hurts almost as bad as losing the house.

I don't know how this happened for me in the way it did, but I believe G-d had a big hand in it. 

We sold the house to the short sale specialist today. The bank cleared us of any deficiency and we're protected from capital gains for at least another year. 

Whether my  heart is protected from the damage is another matter.

Today's Funny

"Air Assaulting Ranger Marines don't faze me, but lack of (time) does."=== The Dude.

priceless

Getting There

I've been in the new house for a few weeks now. Friends keep asking me how I like it, and I am still a little unsure. I like the location- it's wonderful. It's close to everything but in a quiet neighborhood. The yard is nice and the dog loves it. The kids seem MUCH happier here. (The last year in small town was not real fun for anyone. I think it was a lesson in survival.)

I've had a hard time getting comfortable for a long list of reasons. One big one was that I wasn't fully unpacked (I'm still not there) and I just couldn't "breathe" with the stress of all the boxes. I've spent the last 2 months surrounded by things in boxes- and it kind of unbalanced me (along with a couple other things related to the move).

I got a new shelf, which gave me places to put some things. I put them away and then unpacked my angels. I put my favorite up where I can see her easily and now I feel a lot more at home. My kids noticed the angels and the change in my attitude right away.

It feels good to be closer to home. I'm not there, but I'm getting there.

Un/Re

Un
packing
stressing
thinking
focusing

re
prioritizing
enjoying
settling
considering
shaping
defining
fining

The Last of It

Tonight will be my last night in my little home in small town. I'm pretty numb about it now. I've built a shell around my feelings because the move has to happen. I've been in "get it done" mode for a long time now.

However, I did have a moment of reflection when I realized that this is not what I planned for, dreamed of, hoped on or built to over the last few years. It's a very rough thing to realize and accept.

I do have some good things to look forward to, and a lot of work ahead. I'm almost done with all the big stuff- but I still have a lot of little things to do.

Just a rough day

A lot of things all combined have made today pretty tough.

Waiting is Over

We're moving from our small, mostly farming town of 1200 people back to the "big city". We're doing it for a lot of reasons, but the long and the short of it is that it's best for our family.

We found a place that is near schools, shopping, parks, family, friends, work and isn't way out of our price range.

This week is totally busy with things that can't be rescheduled, so the packing starts in earnest next week. We move in just under 3 weeks. I may not sleep until September!

Still Waiting

I am still waiting on something big. There were 2 things and the first didn't happen, but the second is still in the works. Lots of being patient here. Watch. ----------see? I'm being patient!------

I celebrated 20 years of being with the Dude on Thursday. I don't think I will ever get tired of him. I'm still waiting for him to get bored with me, though....

Breathless

I have some "Big Things" in the works at the moment, but they are completely dependent on other people, timing, a little luck and a lot of waiting.

I have gotten MUCH better at waiting in the past year. I have learned a lot about how to disperse that obnoxious energy that seems to infiltrate the time between starting something and actually getting something accomplished. It's an interesting thing- it's almost like floating, because so much effort is being put into being still.

I hope to have things settled that I can announce them in a week or so. Till then, I will keep waiting.

Sand Angel

I recently caught up with one of my closest friends from Junior High via Facebook. When I knew him, he was high energy, funny, always interested in helping others, and a martial arts nut with a thrill seeking nature.

I discovered that he has become an Army Medic. This is totally not what I had imagined he would become. I'm not entirely sure what exactly I thought he might do when grew up, but Army Medic was not it. I jokingly envisioned him as a professional world changer (activist) or maybe a ninja (stunt man?).

He recently got deployed to Iraq. He's been sharing what he is allowed - a few views of his life via Facebook and his blog, and I've realized that he is still as wacky and interested in helping others as always. This guy drives an ambulance into firefights to go save guys he doesn't know, fix 'em up and then send them home. Sounds a lot like both a world changer and a ninja to me.

His view of his bunk/room was particularily eye opening. He joked about his prized possessions- a folding table and folding chair (makeshift desk)- and showed off his locker. He was making many comments about his "zany stuff" and I had to do a couple of double takes.

Right now, my friend's worldly possessions fit into an oversized suitcase. He travels the world with less items than I take on vacation and he makes it his home no matter where he goes.

His running commentary on the camp, his fellow soldiers, his life & duty are all told in his same high energy wise cracking way. He hasn't changed very much at all- but he changes everything around him just by being himself.

I'm really honored to know him.

I Had Forgotten

I had forgotten


how much I love and need my wonderful church family

how good it feels to be supported rather than standing on my own

how long that "short drive to town" feels under pressure

that the only thing louder than my heart beating in my ears is the sound of an O2/pulse meter drowning it out

how lonely it is at 4 am

how dark it is at 4 am

how often I used to check to see that he was sleeping and breathing well 

how easily I felt at peace before

how hard I will fight to keep that which is mine safe, happy and healthy

how much I can rely on - friends, family, faith and my own driven, intense commitment

how I have a purpose and how I can feel assured that I'm doing my best

how much I have been blessed

It only took a few hours for it all to come back. It may be years before I forget again 

Ghosts

Memories are much like ghosts. Some are welcome friendly reminders of people and places gone by in your life, full of soft touches and wistful perceptions of what you once had. Others are terrible; horrific haunting strokes of hells you've already lived. Some are body blows of reality that some things never change.

Some ghosts are invoked through entire circumstances, while others generate over an instant. Perhaps a voice, a phrase, or even a tone invoke these specters of the past. Scents are well known for evoking memories, with the faintest whiff acting as a rewind button for the brain.

Memories are often landmarks, milemarkers or signposts in a life. Retrospect can offer glimpses of arrows pointing to or against certain directions. Some of these are merely road signs- "college years" or "childhood town". Yet others are much more personal, with commentary easily understood years later: "day I chose to quit bad habit" or "could have prevented heartache/harm/death by acting rather than waiting".

There are some memories no one should have to re-record. Some things are wonderful enough that living through it again almost wrecks the original event. Some experiences are bad enough the first time around, that a second shot at them is nothing short of torture.

It's in reliving these types of moments that many people find their core- how do they handle the problem. Do they learn from it, use it as a base for their actions today. Do they wallow and repeat themselves, or do they act as if they'd never lived through it before- all possible with many more choices and actions as there are lives to live.

I've lived a particular experience more than a few times now. Each time, the memories associated with it come at me,and like a hand in poker, I fold rather than bluff or bet. (I'm not a good liar and I really don't like risk.)

Tuesday, the ghosts came to haunt me and I didn't blink. I bluffed and played my hand my way, winning the pot this time around rather than waiting to see what I got dealt in the next hand.

The ghosts-the signposts-the memories; they are all part of an experience I had already. I can have the experience dozens more times, but each time will be a chance to have a NEW experience- and to create new memories.

As much as I don't care to repeat Tuesday's experience ever again, I welcome the chance to help create some friendly ghosts.

Minions

I love to joke about being a terrible tyrant rather than a mother. It's big fun to tease the kids that they are merely minions here to serve me. I even give them titles and areas over which they are responsible.

TrashRemoverMan and LaundryLady live at my house and they live to serve me.

Mwahahahahahahha!

Another game update

I'm thinking that I may start a game blog, or change the focus of this one just a little. Still processing that thought. 

About the time my character Jak died, my gaming life took a very unusual turn. I had a LOT of opportunities very suddenly. I have a chance to play with a whole new group of people, without my kids or my husband; a chance to play with my husband (but no kids); and an option to run my OWN game.

I've always had a little bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to the gaming crowd and how I'm viewed. The Dude is well known and very respected in our circle, and many times I had the feeling that I was accepted by default.

Jak dying was sort of a wake up call to me. I had no less than four different conversations with people regarding my plans, my interests, my desire to keep playing, etc. Every person I talked to encouraged me to stay in the game and had really positive things to say about me as a player. It's kind of neat to know I don't stink.

It's The Dude's Birthday!

I have had the wonderful priveledge of being married to The Dude for a LONG time. I really, really enjoy him- a lot. He's funny, handsome, caring, honest, dedicated, passionate, witty, loyal, and a fabulous dad. He's my very best friend (girlfriend K, I hope you understand! You're wonderful in your own right!) and above all else, he makes me feel safe.

For me, feeling safe is more important than money, fame, power, faith, a nice car, being well read or any other "big compatibility concern" that other peolpe have. That warm, soft feeling I get when he talks to me, looks at me, holds me or just makes me LAUGH is more valuable than gold.

I cannot tell him in words how much he means to me. It just doesn't seem possible. I've been working very hard to show him in actions and attitude that what he is to me, what he means to me, and how much he gives me are appreciated.

He's better than great; excellent or fabulous. He's kind of my rock star.

(A moment to remember one of his favorite rock stars, Joey Ramone- who died 9 years ago today.)

Today, my rock star is a little older. To me, it's a cause for celebration. I get more time to be with the man I love.

Happy birthday, my darling man. It's your birthday, and you're THE DUDE!

Game Update

Jak, the character I have been playing for over 2 years, died Saturday.

I've seen a fair share of uncool, underhanded, or just downright jerky player character deaths throughout the years I've been gaming. I've seen personal grudges taken out on players, vindictiveness and humiliation transposed onto the fictional lives of my friends, relatives and even my own imagining.

Jak's death was none of those. It was a fair, clean kill. It was in some ways an object lesson- and I am ok with that. Jak died protecting the ones he loved most, defending those weaker than himself, and he died fighting. Jak had resisted the temptation to let his anger, frustration, discontent and fear take over for a very long time; but when the time came to fight- he did. I'm very content with how he died-it was fitting to how I've played him and how I envisioned him.

I am a little disoriented by his death. I had a lot of ideas for him, and I put a lot of work into fleshing him out. I put a lot of energy into the game overall, and I protected with a vigilance that's fairly rare for me. It was my place to breathe and relax through all the things life is throwing at me, and to have it suddenly gone is a little strange.

I had a few moments of panic- because the players in the game, the ST, the time and the place in many ways became my home. To have your home taken away unexpectedly, to have what you hoped & dreamed of removed- it's jarring and a little hard to swallow.

But it's a game. It's fun, a way to relax and escape. And now I get to come up with a new idea. I'm looking forward to playing a character that's a lot more like myself- because Jak was tough to play. Who knows what I'll do next, but I am looking forward to a new home.

Identity

///static///

tell me what you see
do you see perfection in me
to you, do I look complete?

///static///

I am
whatever you say I am

///static///

Try and find myself
Hardest thing I've ever done

///static///

Once you find yourself, how stuck are with what you get? I don't think they give refunds. So doing the best you can with what you've got is now the order of the day. I think I am pretty good at that.

It's Like Grace

So a very, very, very good thing happened to me pretty recently. This thing happened to me because I did something I am not terribly good at- I listened to my gut.

The Dude is the MASTER of listening to his gut, and knowing it is RIGHT. He's so rarely wrong that many times a big decision is made based on what "his gut says". Me, I second (and third, fourth etc) guess myself. I don't have a real strong instinct and when I do hear a "message", I don't RECOGNIZE it. I am not terribly good at listening to myself and my track record is abysmal at best.

I really do not want to get into the specifics of what happened exactly (for honest to gosh fear of jinxing myself, and after this last run of listening to myself, I am not about to spoil it) but it happened because I heard a message loud and clear. I not only listened, but I paid attention and did what the "directions" said to do.

I was explaining to the Dude how big it is, this thing that happened. I had not verbalized it to anyone how huge it was until I told him. But really, this thing was like grace coming right out of G-d's hands into my life. It's a chance to start over- a "do-over". And I really, really need one.

A good thing happened. I'm pretty excited. 

Been Thinking

Most of my non-existance lately has been due to fear. Fear that by acknowledging the [whatever- and boy is there a LOT of whatever], I would be giving it substance. That by nodding to the reality of the [verboten], I give it power.

Well, I just have to say, pretending it's not there doesn't work for crap. The STUFF is still real, and hits me all the harder for it.

As much as I reject the reality of my life (thank you Adam Savage!) for the past month or so, there has been a good amount of positive along with the -notsomuch-. I've discovered some VERY important things about myself and what I need to do. What I want to do has also come into the sun a little, and maybe I will be brave enough to put some energy into myself sometime in the next .....soon.

So, I've had some ups and some downs. I am in the middle of a very bumpy spot and hoping things get smoother soon. I have some hope for a brighter, smoother ride -- soon.

Not entirely dead

I've just been hiding. I've been thinking about a post but haven't fomulated all of it yet. Just- I'm not dead.

More birthday related

TallBoy turned 16 yesterday. Many jokes were made about the roads not being safe, and much ado was had over his immense tallness , and he had a wonderful day.

He's actually been driving on a permit for over a year now and is a very good driver. He hates the interstate with a passion and nearly begs me not to make him drive down it when we go somewhere.

He did indeed grow again and I am thinking of hiding the Cheez-Its because they are Proven(TM) to make him grow taller.

He went to game and actually got to do a few very cool things, and enjoyed being sung to by a large group of people. Our dear friend Squirl (who is VERY hard to say no to) convinced SweetPea to lead the Gang in the rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday".

Is it bad to admit I enjoyed watching her squirm, just a little?

It was a good day, though.

It was NOT freezing cold. It was not frostbite inducing. It was not so harsh it hurt to breathe. ALl of those conditions were present 16 eyars ago the day that darn PeskyBaby(TM) was born. He did grow into the TallBoy- all Knees, Neck & Elbows, and tall enough to get the rice down from on top of the cabinets.

It's an honor to be his mom. I love being part of his development. Sometimes I am shocked at how well he's turned out- he's a GOOD KID. I think I'll keep him for a little bit longer.

Go away 18, I am not ready yet.

Early Birthday!

I got some early birthday goodies from my friend the TinMan.

I have some new metal to paint! I got:

Widowmakers
Iron Fang Pikemen
Man-O-War Kovnik
Man-O-War Demo Corps
Devastator

Some have some paint already. I can live with most of it. Honestly, the Devastator will fit right in with my "Iron Man" theme for my Khadorian Army. I'll have to make some adjustments for the VERY silver heavy Pikemen and 'Makers.

As much as I griped that I really did not like (or want) the 'Makers, now that I have them in my hands, I am not sure I ever want to let them go. LOVE THE HATS! They're so... cold.

My entire list of figs now:

Vlad
Sorscha (BLEK BLEK BLEK BLEK! Can't stand her)

Devastator
Juggernaut
Destroyer

Assault Commandos
Doom Reavers
Man-O-War Shock Troopers
Man-O-War Demo Corps
Man-O-War Kovnik
Widowmakers
Iron Fang Pikemen
And Fluffy the War Dog

So now I have a good bit. I might actually be able to field an army if I ever decide to play... but I don't know about that yet.

And I am trying to keep to Khador, but I'm not really trying to PLAY. I am interesting in painting at this point. Why Red? I just like the way they RedMachine looks, and find it easy to paint. There's a lot of wide, open metal to put my brushes on, and that's just the way I like it until I get MUCH, MUCH better.

I'm ----- NO. GOOD. ---- at "fiddly bits".

Peace

I think I can say that this is the most hopeful, relaxed and happy I have felt in a very long time.