GRRRR!!!!!

Today, for the first time in years and years I was going to meet (girl) friends for drinks. While I was married, every time I tried to participate in a "girls' night out" my husband would either find excuses to call me every fifteen minutes, or he'd actually show up and ruin my night. Needless to say, no one really wanted me around. So, I have been making an effort to reblaze trails that are way overgrown. Tonight I had convinced an old friend to give me another shot since I'm now out of control freak husband prison & we actually did meet up and have a rather anticlimactic time. The thing that makes me say "grrrr" is that the evening leading up to my less than monumental girl date SUCKED!!!! First my car broke down and I spent the first two or three hours of my evening replacing & recharging my car battery. Then, I went to visit MNB before meeting my friend. That started out okay, but as I was getting ready to leave, he started saying things like, "So you're going out tonight? I think I might go out & try to set something up. Do you think [insert names of girls from his apartment complex] will be at the bar across the street?" then "Are you jealous? What would you do if I actually had a date with someone else? That's a plausable situation." When I read those things, they actually sound worse than what he may have intended. I can't figure out if he was actually taunting me because he wanted me to stay with him or if he really does think that our "relationship" is such that it's appropriate to tell me that he's thinking about going out & gettin' some. Every other week he goes from being a person that I really want to be with to being an utter dick who makes me want to slash his tires. All I can say is @#$!#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A little help?

Yesterday, my girls and I happened to be in the hometown of Robert Wadlow, who before his death was the tallest man in the world (8'11"). I'm a big dork who as a kid was fascinated by books and HBO specials about "very special people," so I couldn't leave the town without visiting all of the RW hotspots. His grave was easy to find, but when it came to finding his life-sized memorial statue, I had a little more trouble. I was driving around, my girls were getting impatient, and I decided I'd have to do something that goes completely against my nature -- stop and ask someone how to get there. I hate admitting I need help and have found that, contrary to popular stereotypes, I'm much less likely than a man to stop and ask for directions. (I need to learn to tap into my inner damsel in distress.) In the end, I bought a map rather than asking for directions. Although I'd like to say it was in the spirit of learning to fish instead of asking for dinner, it's really because I couldn't bring myself to admit I didn't know where I was. MNB never hesitates to ask for directions, which always amazes me. The ironic thing is, when it comes to really important things, he prides himself on being totally self-reliant and has even said he thinks people who pray are pussies because they're begging for help instead of taking care of business. I know he's wrong about that, but other than calling him on his hypocrisy, I don't have a lot of room to critize him, because he's better at asking for help than I am.

Born to be wild

Well, it's Monday and my uncharacteristic cheerfulness has finally dissipated. Actually it didn't last too far into the weekend. I had an okay weekend. Spent all of it with MNB, which was probably a little too much. By last night, I felt like the guest who wouldn't leave, but I was too tired to drive home, so I figured he could just deal with it. He'll have 7 days of solitude to get over it. We spent Saturday and Sunday visiting little places along the Missouri River. One of the more odd things we saw was a little Thai food cart right in amongst the river rats camped at a little landing. It was a sort of bizzare reminder of how small the world is. In my book, eating Pad Thai Noodles off of a styrofoam plate sure beats cooking hot dogs on a stick. Anyway, our little excursions reinforced my burning desire to buy a little camper to pull behind my minivan. I just imagine myself as a self-sufficient free spirit, going where the wind takes me, exploring the country and leaving a wake of broken hearts in my tracks. It could happen.

She's happy...too happy

I can hardly believe it, but I'm somewhat delirious again today. I c-a-n-n-o-t figure it out! I'm driving home for lunch today grinning like a stoner. Although I'm definitely enjoying it, it's making me a little suspicious. Several times right before I've gotten the stomach flu, I can remember sitting there thinking, "I've never felt so good in my life." Then, a couple hours later, I'm dry heaving and wishing I'd done a little more detail work last time I cleaned the toilet. For now, I'm going to try to assume that my unusual happiness is because I have a great life and is not a harbinger of bad things to come. I guess time will tell.

Life of a Swinger

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning I was staring out of my hotel room window all forlorn and morose. Today, the entire 2 hour drive home from the airport, I was downright giddy. Sounds a little bipolar, doesn't it? To what do I owe this sudden improvement in mood? I have no freakin' idea. Maybe my airplane experienced a sudden change in cabin pressure, but the masks didn't work inducing an oxygen deprived euphoria. I'm starting to come down a little, but I kid you not, I was driving home, singing at the top of my lungs and smiling at cows. Although I wish I could bottle whatever wizardry turned me goofy today, I'm not sure how long I'll be able to deal with such crazy mood swings. Honestly, 98-99% of the people who know me probably think I'm the most emotionless ice queen to walk the earth. Vulcans like me don't really know how to deal with human emotions.

Switching tracks?

I think MNB might be fatally frustrated with me. I've got to admit, I've been inexplicably moody the past few weeks. I think it has to do with me trying to come to terms with my new identity and mourn the loss of my old one. For 19 years I was one half of a married couple. Although I'm very glad to be away from my ex, sometimes things hit me wrong & I'm confusingly sad about not being married anymore. It's like I've been kicked out of club. I was at a comedy show last Friday and all of the jokes about the comedian's wife made me increasingly sad until I was actually crying -- not the intended effect, I'm sure.

Anyway, I think my confusing moods have led MNB to the conclusion that I'm either certifiably insane or just too much of a drag to endure. So, now I'm trying to run down the list of all the ways he's a jerk so that I can convince myself I'm better off without him. The fact that I'm 979 miles from home, sitting in a Manhattan hotel room overlooking Grand Central Station makes it a little easier. There's a song that says, "Nothing can cure your blues like a thousand miles." So, as I'm surrounded by trains, I'm trying to talk myself into to pulling that switch and heading down another set of tracks.

We can rebuild her...

I think I may have recently developed an addiction to self help books. Since my divorce, I've had a nagging feeling that I'm a good candidate for a psychological makeover. There's something so hopeful about titles like "Ten Days to Self Esteem," "Authentic Happiness," or "Awakening to Your Life's Purpose." Just imagine the super bionic psyche I'd have if all of these books actually worked their magic on me. Although I doubt I'll take the leap & put much of the advice into practice, on some level it just makes me feel better to think that some unknown author seems to have faith that the solution to all of my problems is out there and attainable.