One of Those Days

Today is one of those days where I truly feel like I am perched precariously on a balance beam, sanity to my left and complete instability to my right and you can probably guess in which direction I am leaning. Every dog has its day and all that shit, right? Well, I'm still waiting for my day to come. I've been waiting for a year and a half for my day to come. Let's be honest, I've been waiting for thirty-eight years for my day to come. I'm just not sure how much I have left to give. I'm clinically depressed but trying to have a child, so I went off my meds. However, I haven't been able to get pregnant so I could, ostensibly, go back on my meds, yet I can no longer afford to buy them and have no health insurance. The saga continues, the vicious cycle of doom and gloom, and I just don't see an end in sight, now or ever. I keep trying to put one foot in front of the other and not give up that last tiny lingering shred of hope that things can change for us but damn if I can wait much longer.

So Neglectful :(

Yep, I've been seriously neglecting this blog lately. Not that I've ever been writing on a regular basis but I've definitely been slacking and that's not good, considering that writing this blog is quite cathartic for me. If you're reading this, it means that you have at least a slight interest in me and the developments in my life so let me put it out there. Brian called unemployment on my birthday and found out that he would be receiving at least an additional six weeks of benefits, possibly as many as twenty, but they couldn't confirm any more than six at that time. So, as relieved as we were to know that we were not going to be thrown out on our proverbial asses for at least another month or so, we resumed the waiting game that has, sadly, become all too familiar for us. We waited and wondered and worried, as per usual, and were fortunate enough to find out several days later that we were, in fact, going to receive the entire twenty weeks. We are trying to be optimistic (which, if you know me at all, is so against my nature) that he will find work before then and he is, as always, applying everywhere and anywhere he can. No hits yet but we're not giving up. Though I still question why the universe feels that we still haven't learned all we should from our experiences of the past year and a half, I want so much to believe that the sun will emerge from the ever-present clouds in the near future. So, there you go. We will remain in Florida for at least the next four to five months, barring any unforeseen circumstances, we will continue to support each other, emotionally, as best we can and we will, ultimately, prevail. Did that sound convincing? ;)

The ABCs of Me

A. AGE:
38 (gasp)

B. Bed Size
queen

C. Chore I hate:
dusting

D. Day
Saturday

E. Essential start of your day:
potty break (what?)

F. Favorite Color:
sky blue

G. Gold or Silver?:
silver

H. Height:
5'7 ish

I. Instruments:
I used to play violin, viola, cello and piano. Now I play none. Sigh.

J. Job Title:
I'd say "domestic goddess" but since I really suck at domesticity and I am currently unemployed, I'll say "lump on the couch"

K. Kids
Yes, please. My clock is, most-definitely, ticking loudly.

L. Live
Sure. It sounds better than dying (most days).

M. Mom's name:
Kathleen

N. Nicknames
Punky, PKNY, Butterfly, Pokie, Kare Bear

O. Overnight stay at hospital:
Never. Does that make me boring? (No, Kari. Lots of other things make you boring.)

P. Pet Peeves:
People who mispronounce simple words. A library is not a fruit (liberry) and you cannot AKS me a question (but you can ASK me anything you'd like).

Q. Quote from a movie:
"A girl who gets all wrapped up in herself makes a pretty small package." - Desert Bloom
"Keep passing the open windows." - The Hotel New Hampshire

R. Right or left handed:
right on

S. Siblings
a younger brother - we're estranged

T. Time you wake up:
noonish, if I'm lucky

U. Underwear:
Yes, please.

V. Vegetable you hate:
Onions, unless they are really REALLY soft and caramelized (and that, in itself, is a BIG step for me)

W. What makes you late?:
mitigating factors like traffic or getting lost - I'm pretty OCD about being on time, if not early

X. Xrays you've had:
dental and lots of others, I'm sure, that I don't recall right now

Y. Yummy foods you can make:
eggs, baked goods

Z. Zoo:
Brevard Zoo is our local one. It has the BEST giraffe exhibit!

One Year and One Week

Sigh. Apparently I have now been blogging for one year and one week and I can't believe how far I haven't come in this past 372 days. I am still unemployed, as is my husband, though not by choice. I am still not pregnant. I am still struggling to make ends meet in my small one bedroom apartment. Not the strides I had hoped to make, needless to say. I really don't know what is keeping me from being happy. Yes, these past few years have been incredibly trying and difficult but I've never been happy. Even when things were, for all intents and purposes, easier in my life, happiness eluded me. I want so badly to stop believing that I am unhappy because that is my destiny. I want to think that happiness is just around the corner; if I just find that one missing piece, I will be a whole and content person. It goes against everything in my nature, of course, but I want so much to think that I am worthy of joy and peace in my life but I'll tell you, it is a constant struggle. I have fleeting moments of hope and I guess that's something but it's not good enough. It never has been, really, but now, more than ever, I don't want to settle for "well, today doesn't completely suck." Here I am, nine days from my 38th birthday, no better off than I was this time last year. Will my life ever get any better, who knows? I sure as hell hope so.

P.S. Since my second blog entry on 4/24/10, I have lost 20 pounds. I guess that's something.

What's New? What's Not?

Clearly, I've been neglecting this blog lately in favor of the far more positive Got Polish? I would really love to say that things have improved for Brian and I, that we are both gainfully employed and on our way to financial and emotional recovery. Alas, such is not the case. He will receive his final Tier 4 unemployment check in the next few days and barring another extension, we will have no more money coming in. I can't believe we are still in this situation. My husband is an intelligent, dedicated, passionate, hard-working, college-educated man. He is not someone who "works the system" or wishes for handouts. He wants, more than anything, to be working and whatever standards he may have had about what type of work he'd be willing to do (or wages to accept), they are out the window. He will do anything for anyone. Yet he just cannot catch a break. It's so difficult for me to understand why NOTHING will come through for him. It's not like he's been offered anything and turned it down, the interview calls simply don't come. I'm trying to accept that for every position, there are thousands of people trying to fill it. It's just so disheartening to think that our entire future or, at the very least, present is dependent on "right place, right time" luck. I'm learning to accept that our situation isn't bad because we are bad or less deserving than anyone else. It's just a matter of being lucky and thus far, we haven't been. I am trying, really trying to keep faith that things will be okay for us but honestly, we've been in this situation for a year and a half. If something's got to give, when? If you're reading these words, please send some positive thoughts, vibes, prayers, whatever feels right to you, out into the universe. I know we can't give up but damn if I'm not awfully close to breaking.

Grrr

Today was a really shitty one. It was the kind of day that really made me wonder why I even bother. Bother with what, you might ask? Any damn thing at all, I reply. I've been told that having a positive outlook and trying to project positive thoughts into the universe helps make good things happen but how do I do that when it goes against EVERYTHING in my nature? Feeling depressed is like breathing. How do you "re-learn" how to breathe? I suppose anything is possible. Brian seems to think that this is something I can do if I work at it hard enough. I'm not saying that he's wrong. Though it's often hard to admit, I don't have all the answers. Hell, I don't even have most of them. I really am trying though. Sometimes, just getting out of bed is a victory for me. It may not seem like much to anybody else but I know how hard I fight just to achieve something resembling emotional stability. I just wish the universe would cooperate, even a little.

The Road to Hell is Paved in Good Intentions

Not sure why I'm even thinking about this now. Not sure why I even give a shit about it but you know me (or you don't but you're getting to), I'm a glutton for punishment. Let me set the scene. A few years ago, I decided to contact one of my former teachers. As you might know (or might imagine), I was an incredibly shy, awkward kid, afraid of my own shadow and TERRIFIED of the rest of the world. I hid behind big glasses, long hair and anything else I could find. Anyway, at some point, this particular teacher came into my life. For some reason, I thought that he could see me. He treated me like I actually mattered, like I was a talented writer (which was my secret wish. I loved to write and prayed that I was good at it). That affirmation was so desperately craved and so deeply appreciated. Of course, even then I wondered if I was placing too much confidence in this person...if he, like everyone else in my life, would fail me. Still, years went on, I felt appreciated, to a degree, by this person, and it was one of the rare light spots in my otherwise dreary existence. Of course, I eventually graduated and that was the end of this person's place in my life. Many years later, I found myself looking up people from my past and I came across a professional contact e-mail for this person. I thought for a moment then took the plunge and wrote a quick note, re-introducing myself, so to speak, wondering if he would even have the slightest recollection of who I was. To my surprise, he did, with startling clarity. We continued to correspond for several months, through frequent notes sent from my end and occasional replies from his. In time, I found myself back in New York for a visit and we decided to arrange a meeting. We went out for drinks and had a lovely conversation. I, naively, thought that I was making a new friend. If you know me at all, you know that I desperately crave kindness, companionship and affection (though not, of course, in a romantic way). I'm a hugger, always have been. I have no qualms about telling people how I feel about them if it's in a positive way. If someone pisses me off or disappoints me, that I sit and wallow in for fear of losing that person altogether (even if, in many cases, it would be to my benefit if I DID lose them). But when it comes to liking or caring for someone, I wear my heart on my sleeve, much to my almost constant detriment. I can't help it, I lost my father way too young, all of my grandparents and, for all intents and purposes, my brother (but that is a story for another day, perhaps). I don't like losing anyone, for any reason. So, back to this teacher. We went out for drinks, talked pleasantly for a while, and ended things on a positive note, with a friendly hug goodbye and the promise (at least, the perceived promise) that we would continue to correspond and continue to grow a new friendship, no longer student and teacher but now two married adults with shared interests. Apparently I assumed entirely too much. I returned home, wrote a few more notes, got a few more replies but quickly got the very distinct impression that he wanted little more to do with me. He indicated, in so many words, that I was expecting too much, that friendships were organically grown and that I was trying to "force" something that wasn't there. My level of openness and honesty was clearly uncomfortable for him and though he didn't outright say "leave me alone," that was the strong implication. So, I did. It was really disappointing, to say the least, and if I were to be completely honest (which I am, often to my detriment), it was rather crushing. I am not initially a trusting soul, I don't know if I ever have been, but once I start to open up and let someone in, I expose my inner being entirely too quickly and make myself the perfect victim, just waiting to be rejected. After the devastating blow, I responded to this person, who suggested that perhaps we might correspond a few times a year, that I would leave him alone completely as that seemed to be his true wish. I kept to my word for about eight or nine months. Then, fool that I am, I once again sent out feelers. I did so in a much more reserved and restrained way than I typically do but nevertheless, my attempt was ignored. Sure, it's possible that his contact information had changed since then. Perhaps the e-mail got lost in cyberspace as they often do. But really, he probably just ignored it as he wants to be left alone, at least by me. Why am I writing about this? Why do I even care about something that ostensibly ended about a year ago? I suspect it has a little to do with the fact that this year will be (if it takes place) my 20th high school reunion and it is conceivable that I might run into this person again. Even more, it is because I am a glutton for punishment and seem to live to torment myself. I'm not sure I used this example before but I liken myself to a puppy in a pet store window. You know the one, the one that presses its nose to the glass, hopping and jumping, making adorable faces, doing everything it can in a desperate attempt to get your attention and be chosen. I am not showy in that way, but inside, that is me. I am always the one desperate to be noticed, chosen, assured that I am, in fact, good enough, worthy, lovable. I don't think that will ever change. I have a fantastic husband, a wonderful mother, amazing friends. They all assure me constantly that I am worthy and loved. Then why is it that what seems to resonate most is when people DON'T deem me worthy or lovable? Why can't I focus on all the good instead of the pieces of bad? I guess that is a question I'll never be able to answer to my own satisfaction. It is, simply, the nature of me. Which reminds me, every day in every way, why I wish I could be somebody else.

Everybody's Working for the Weekend

Well, I will be, anyway, for the first time in years. I have orientation for my new job as a cashier at Publix this coming Saturday at 10 am. Is this where I thought I'd be at this point in my life, a scared rabbit freaking out over a part-time job? What do you think? Still, it's a step in the right direction for me. If nothing else, it will force me to leave my house, dressed in more than a t-shirt and pajama pants, and actually communicate with people without the safety net of a computer monitor running interference. A scary prospect but one that I knew I would have to face at some point. I suppose it might as well be now when we need the money more than ever. I have my fingers, toes, cats' paws and anything else I can think of crossed that Brian will find work soon, too. I know it's difficult for him that this came through for me when he's been doing everything under the sun to find a job for a year and a half. He deserves a break, so much. I really want this to happen for him, for us, as soon as possible. Until then, he will be my ever-faithful house husband, fixing me wonderful bagged lunches for work, and supporting me as always. He couldn't be happier for me and I am so very lucky to have such a wonderful life partner. *Deep breath.* Oh well, here goes.

Dream On

For some reason, I just remembered one of my dreams from last night. I rarely remember my dreams so I figure I'd better keep track of them when I do. In it, Greg Evigan (perhaps best known to my generation for his starring role in My Two Dads, although he is equally well-known for BJ and the Bear) and Heather Locklear (no explanation necessary) were trying to decapitate me with razor wire. I woke up from that dream, went to relieve myself, and promptly fell back asleep, only to wake up again an hour or so later (again to relieve myself. My fellow tiny-bladdered folks can relate) after having another dream in which, interestingly enough, once again, someone was trying to kill me. I don't recall who or how but the theme most definitely continued. Ponder this, won't you?

Happy Schmalentine's Day!

Yeah, I'm about 20 minutes late, go figure. Let me mention that I am not, have never been and will never be a particular fan of Valentine's Day. To those who are not in a relationship, it's sort of a bold-faced, all-in-caps reminder of that fact. To those who are, it's a pressure-inducing, Hallmark holiday that mostly serves to sell you insane amounts of stuff you either don't need or cannot afford. I am a happily married woman but the pressure gets to me and causes me more stress on this day than I should allow. Honestly, shouldn't we just celebrate love EVERY day? But, despite all this, I'm allowing myself this brief interruption in my usual cynicism and snark to post this picture that can't help but make me smile. For whatever it's worth, for whatever this day does or does not mean to you, Ralph Wiggum is fabulous. Love and hugs and mushy stuff to all.

I'm So Ronery

Just putting this out there, it really SUCKS living so far away from your true friends. Don't get me wrong, I have one friend, one of my closest, living just two doors down and I am SO grateful for that, but aside from her, I do not have one single friend in the state in which I live. I've always been the "quality, not quantity" type when it comes to friends and I have always said that if I can count my true friends one one hand, I'd consider myself very lucky. I can definitely do that and again, I'm very grateful. However, sometimes knowing that someone is just a phone call (or, more likely, as I am not a fan of the phone, a facebook message) away is just not enough. No matter what anyone tells you, there is nothing like hearing your friend's voice and seeing her face as the words fall from her lips. There is nothing that takes the place of shared laughter, especially when it's followed by a big happy smile or, even better, a hug. Aside from my husband, our two cats, and the aforementioned one great friend, I am alone here and I've got to tell you, it sucks. I know that I am at a distinct disadvantage with regard to making friends here. I am not currently working. Hell, I don't volunteer, take a class, or do anything else that would allow me the opportunity to make new friends. The extent of my social life is limited, primarily, to facebook and though I do not underestimate or discount the importance of the deep, true, lasting friendships that facebook has allowed me to find, grow and maintain, again, it's not the same as face to face contact. I want to go out with friends on a shopping trip, to share a meal, to see a movie, you know, all the things that are fun to do with your spouse or alone or with your one close (in distance) girlfriend but are sometimes even more fun with a couple of friends or, dare I say it, a group. Moving back to New York is not the answer, though I do have several friends who live there. I want to have that same experience here in Florida. "Well Kari" you might say, "why don't you get off your ass and do something that might allow you to make friends?" My simple reply is "I'm trying." When you suffer from clinical depression, as I do, can't, for the life of you, find a job, and have pretty much lost your will to do more than maybe brush your teeth and get dressed on any given day, it makes that quite difficult. It's frustrating too because I HAVE amazing friends. I know that if not for the geographic distance, we would spend time together doing all of the fun things that friends do. I am 37 years old. It's really hard putting yourself out there when you already have the friends you want, albeit too far away. It's really hard putting yourself out there, period. I just don't know if I have the strength to do it again. I envy people who live their whole lives in the same place. Though my hometown is not necessarily where I'd have wanted to spend my entire life, there is something to be said for the comforts of home. Florida has never been, and will never be, "home" for me. I don't quite know where home is but I hope someday to find it. I hope someday to feel comfortable enough with myself that these things won't be a problem anymore. I hope. I guess that's something.

Going on a Bit of a Rant Here...

...but seriously, I am MORE than sick of society's "stick-thin" standard of beauty for women. Sure, things are "getting better" (allegedly). After all, women with a little bit of "junk in the trunk" like Kim Kardashian are more than accepted as models of beauty. (Of course, if they don't have the hour-glass figure to go with that bit of booty, the magazines speculate on why they're not thinner.) But come on, enough is enough. Why can't we see more "real" women in the media? I just watched the commercial for Pajama Jeans (which, if you're not acquainted, are basically soft fleece on the inside and stretchy "denim" on the outside). They bragged about having sizes to fit all women, from petite to plus-size, yet there is not a single woman in the ad that is more than, I'd predict, a size 6. There sure as hell aren't any "plus-size" women in this ad. As if there isn't enough to worry about in life, now I need to worry that I'm too fat for Pajama Jeans? Who decides what's "too fat" anyway, a bunch of male executives and size 0 models? Why do we continue to allow those people to control our self-images? Actually, I can only speak for myself. Why do I allow them to control my self-image? Stupid fucking pants. :(

Good Mornin'...Good Mooooorrrrnin'

Yes, kids, it is currently 2:21 pm EST and I've been up for about 20 minutes. This is the life when you are unemployed, childless and lost in America. Not much reason to stumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen (though I could, perhaps, use Dolly's proverbial "cup of ambition") or to attempt sleep any earlier than 4:00 am-ish when you have no particular reason to get out of bed. While this thought often makes me feel rather poky and melancholy, it doesn't particularly bother me today. Sure, Brian hit me with the fact that we have a few additional bills to pay today that were not expected to arrive so soon, sure I had to dip into my dwindling savings account to get them paid, but the fact is, I'm handling things quite well today, especially for me. Sure there was the sharp intake of breath, the instant fear that is always attached to such occasions, but then, for the first time in a long time, I exhaled. I simply wrote the check, accepted that these things happen in life, despite one's best intentions (or, in this case, my husband's best intentions) and went on with my day. My day is actually going well enough that the lovely Debbie Reynolds' happy voice entered my mind (p.s., my mom woke me up by singing the title of this thread for MANY years and I had NO idea until just last year that the song came from the brilliant film, "Singin' in the Rain" - thanks, Paula!) Imagine that!

New Leaf Turning?

So, I had a thought. Perhaps the world won't spontaneously combust based simply on the fact that I may express an idea or emotion that isn't as "angsty" as the ones I typically share. This blog doesn't just have to be a den of doom, though I must admit that is the predominant emotional state I find myself in, more often than not. I have a damn good sense of humor, damn it, and quite the taste for quirky and surreal moments. So yeah, I'm thinking that perhaps I will try to post a bit more when I'm actually feeling decent, for a change. Fancy that!

So, on that note, here is the manicure I applied last night. Zoya, a rather independent nail polish company, ran a facebook promo last month which allowed fans, using a promo code provided, to choose three of their polishes (regularly priced at $7.00 each) and receive them for FREE, only paying the $6.95 cost of shipping. I was referred to this site by a friend sometime in November or December, in anticipation of this promotion (they had to have a certain number of fans by a certain date as a condition of their activating the code). During the course of the past month I spent a LOT of time on the Zoya facebook page, viewing pics and reading posts that have taught me a LOT about nail polish. I've picked up techniques and terms that I had never heard of before. I do tend to have a bit of a "hoarding" mentality. I packrat like crazy and when I get into a new hobby, I do it to DEATH, so I'm trying really hard not to let this new-found obsession with nail polish go to the extreme. Not long before the Zoya thing, I threw away almost all of my polishes (they were quite old and I wasn't using them) so I figured this gave me carte blanche to start buying new ones. However, my collection has quickly grown from the about ten polishes I had to at least twenty-five thanks to my six new Zoyas (I got three and Brian got three), several Pure Ice, NYC and Wet n Wild ones I've bought and several gifted to me by the same friend who encouraged me to fan the Zoya page (so sweet, right?) I bought one Sally Hansen last night (I had seen it swatched online and thought it was quite similar to a Zoya polish I have on my wishlist - yes, I actually have a Word file which is my typed up polish wishlist, see what I mean? - and at only $2.00 it seemed a fair compromise) but now I really REALLY need to slow my roll and enjoy the ones I have instead of hoarding more. Number one, I just can't afford to do it. Even 99 cent and $2.00 polishes add up. Number two, it's just not healthy for me. I have countless scrapbooking items, dozens of Sanrio goodies and so much miscellaneous whatnot overwhelming this tiny apartment (not to mention my bedroom at Mom's house. Oh, the Beanie Babies alone.) that I need to nip this in the bud before it becomes typical of me. Nevertheless, about that photo (I haven't forgotten), I'll post it now. I'm having a lot of fun with this new polish thing and thought I'd share a bit of the joy.



If I'm not mistaken in my newly-learned polish terminology, this is a skittled manicure. (Skittling, as I know it, simply means using more than one polish color at a time.) I used one of my new Zoyas, Adina, on my middle finger and pinky (and thumb, though it's not pictured) and alternated with Wet n Wild's Gray's Anatomy on my pointer and ring fingers. Adina was two coats and Gray's was three coats. These colors looked quite similar in the bottle, though Adina looked more purple, but as you can see, on nails they appear quite different. I'll probably end up using the Gray's mostly for layering as I tend to not be a great fan of sheer polishes.

Anywho, look at me, being all light-hearted and fun n' stuff. Bet you didn't think I had it in me. To borrow from Shrek, Kari has many layers, like an onion or a even a parfait.

Here We Go Again

Wow, Kari can't make a decision, shocker, right? I suppose I'll keep this little ol' blog going. I've been told that people do occasionally give it a glance and if that is the case, I guess that's reason enough to keep writing it, right? I know some people are hesitant to place their private thoughts on display for all the world (or, in my case, a tiny corner of it) to see. Sometimes, I'm one of them. But damn it, I spent far too many years cowering in corners, lost inside a world of fear and shame and I've had enough of that. If being open and honest is something to be ashamed of, consider me the town pariah. To paraphrase a bit, to those about to read on, I salute you.

Thinking...That Always Means Trouble

I'm kind of re-thinking this blog thing. It has been helpful for me to get my thoughts down on "paper", so to speak, but I wonder sometimes if I'm just sharing too much with the world. At first I thought that this was going to help people and if that was the case then mission accomplished. Now, however, I'm thinking that I'm just "putting my business out in the streets" and that it's really more than I feel comfortable sharing. Hell, I don't know. Maybe I just need a little break. Damn, if that's not the story of my life. But yeah, a little break is most definitely needed so I will continue to "Kari On"...just a little bit more quietly.

Happy New Year?

Yeah, it's been a while since I last wrote but since no one is really paying attention, I'm not too concerned about it. Since I wrote last, unemployment benefits were extended (thank God) and we know where we'll be until around April. Brian is still busting his ass to find a job (without luck, so far) and I'm still trying to get my head out of my ass to figure out what my next step should be. I have a completed job application for a retail job sitting on my desk. I could have turned it in two weeks ago when I filled it out but I'm not ready to do that yet. Let me make this clear, there is nothing, NOTHING wrong with working in retail if that is your heart's desire but it's really not mine. I've been there, done that, have the t-shirt (several, in fact) and I really want something different out of my life. I want the fairy tale, as most of us do, but in lieu of that, I'd like to find a satisfying and fulfilling place in this world. I've got to stop living in the past. I've made so many mistakes, have so many regrets. (By the way, those people who say "I have no regrets" are full of shit.) If I could turn back the clock, I would do SO many things differently; I'd make so many different choices. Yes, everything I've done has lead me to this point and all that happy horseshit (thanks, Aunt Sue, for that expression, by the way) but seriously, if this is where I am meant to be, I'd have found my way here, one way or another, regardless of making different choices five, ten, twenty years ago, or five minutes ago, for that matter. The main regrets at this point are firstly, that I made the choices I did regarding my education. Yes, I have a BA in English, which would probably serve me well if I had wanted to pursue a career in teaching. I suppose it has, perhaps, made me a better writer and reader, perhaps not. I'm quite sure I would have loved reading and writing regardless, as I have since I was old enough to do each of those things. I've had an interest in true crime books/movies/television for a very long time. I find those forensics shows on TruTV or whatever endlessly fascinating. I am also quite meticulous in many ways. This leads me to wonder if I missed my calling as a fingerprint analyst or some such related job. I am also an exceedingly good listener. I genuinely care about people (despite the fact that they fail me on a constant basis) and I truly think I have a loving heart and enough intelligence to offer really good advice (though I am far less adept at following it). Maybe I'm supposed to be a counselor or therapist of some sort. The big thing, the elephant in the room, is that I just don't know. Furthermore, even if I did, I feel like, at 37, my ship has sailed. Brian is so wonderful, so diametrically different from me. He feels like as long as I have breath in my lungs, it's not too late to be or do whatever I wish. The same holds true for my baby fears. My other biggest regret is waiting so long to try to be a mother. Though it's not something we've been actively pursuing lately (wondering how to get the bills paid is not exactly conducive to setting "the mood"), it's on my mind all the time. I'd hate to think that my procrastination, my desire to wait for the "perfect" time, when things would be more "stable", has cost me my chance to be a mother. Yes, the celebs have babies in their late thirties and even their forties, all the time. "Regular" women do too. But honestly, the hot prospect of scheduling an appointment with a gyno to make sure my parts are in working order, waiting months for said appointment (because that's what you do when you're broke) and finding the cash to pay the bill doesn't overjoy me (quelle surprise). Not to mention the fact that if this is my fault somehow, I really don't want to know. I want to believe that when we calm down a little, when things become a little bit more relaxed and spontaneous (albeit somewhat regularly scheduled), things will be okay. Because honestly, I do believe that I deserve good things. I am a good person, damn it, worthy of love and being loved and worthy of having good things happen. I truly believe that...at the moment, anyway.