Archive for January, 2009

“It’s not a sacrifice when you’re doing what you love”

This is a quotation from a TV show — Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I had it on as I cleaned my bathroom.  What do you love? What’s your passion? I’ve been asking those questions myself. I wrote a profile, a personal statement. It’s not one I can share, yet, with everyone. But I’ll post it on a separate “passworded” page – click on ‘About Me’ and it’s there. But you need a password. It’s not ‘private’, but due to the reasons I can’t share it, I need to keep it protected. But, if you know me in real life, comment on this post and I will email you the password. And I’m trying to decide. The forks before me. There are so many personal statements I could write. I wonder if this one should be realized, or can it be realized in a way I’m not expecting?

I learned today that the forks will need to be ironed out sooner than I was expecting. In many ways, I want them ironed out soon, but it’s also a lot to sort out and soon. There are many questions that need answers. It’s a tough thing to try to sort out, because I like my life — personal, professional, community — relationally it’s been tough but I’ve had a lot of time to deal lately, and I’m feeling pretty good. Free, relaxed, relieved and realizing that I can’t blame myself.

So for what it’s worth, as I try to decide which fork will help me to find what I love. Find that ‘call’. My one goal for 2009 seems like it will definitely be true: that my life will not be the same on Dec 31, 2009 compared with Dec 31, 2008.


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When faced with a possible fork in the road, which direction do you take? The one straight forward that doesn’t dramatically change or the fork that will flip everything?  I don’t know my answer to that question.

I don’t know what I would pick. Right at the moment with the H.D. crap, the fork looks appealing, but it also doesn’t because I do love my life — mostly. For many reasons. This weekend of fun and distraction will hopefully give me time to refect and gain perspective.  I need to answer the career questions — which direction and why? Questions are before me… I was noticing one of my best friends’ status updates today on Facebook and it highlighted just how she’s found where she’s called.  I’m trying to figure out what that is in my own life.

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I’ve spent this weekend making sure I’m pretending H.D. doesn’t exist. I’ve had amazing times at the dances, the mask was easy, because I am so abhorrent of H.D.’s lies, gossip, the things he’s thought and said about me. It makes it easy for me to not care how much he does the pouting, the puppydog moping look.  That it’s been 2 weeks and he hasn’t had the guts to at least approach me.  I realize that I’ve been a bit well B@$#%@# towards him, but you know what? I don’t care because he disgusts me. He walked into the dance Friday night, while I was working the door and said to me very quietly and contritely “Hi, how’s it going?”. I calmly looked him in the eye, used my professional “dealing with customers” voice, and responded with “That will be $8, please”. He knew exactly that I was pissed. He got all confused and uncertain “Uhhh… I need to borrow $1.25, uh, I’ll be right back” — you see, normally I’d be the one to lend him the money. I waited, he paid, I ignored him all night. He even followed me around — intentionally dancing near me (not always controllable, but some of it was intentional) — following me around, trying to stand in my only pathway to my bag forcing me to acknowledge him (a friend who knows the score distracted him so that I could slip past).  He even followed us to the door, I didn’t acknowledge him.

Tonight at the dance, I was ready to say to him what needs to be said — that I’ve heard the gossip and lies and horrible things he’s said about me, from multiple people. I want to tell him that he needs to seek professional counselling from some sort of licensed psychotherapist that isn’t his best friend (who can’t be objective). That I don’t want him to talk to me until he can come to me and outline all the ways he’s screwed up with this over the last months — from the first moment he moved things from Friends to ‘Other’ (because, frankly, if he truly wasn’t interested he never should have made a move in the first place — not with me or anyone he’s been close friends with for years), and talk about what he’s doing to learn how to be a real man. I want to say to him that unless I know that he’s gone and done some serious counselling I do not want to speak with him. At all.

So back to tonight’s dance. I planned to keep my distance, I didn’t want to make it easy for him to find me. I didn’t want to ‘invite’ him to come up to me.  But I was ready, so there were a few times when I looked directly at him, half caught his eye, and almost ‘dared’ him to come up.  As I was leaving I was talking with a friend of mine “A” (who’s good friends with him), and with another friend “B” who I was driving home  home. H.D. came up to us, I kept up the light banter I had going with my friends. We were ready to go, so I gave “A” a hug good-bye. “B” gave H.D. a hug, then I turned around, he looked at me tried to say goodbye and half waved. I will admit that I was a B!#@$@ and looked him in the eye, didn’t respond and walked away.  But after being treated like dirt or trash, I have no qualms about throwing up walls.

And you know what, I’m still smiling. Because he’s crazy, the lies he’s said about me are untrue and those he’s told know the truth.  And you know what, I feel free. I’m excited about next weekend, I’m happy to finally have some semblance of control over things, and I’m so disgusted with him that I’m 100% emotionally available — though I’ll readily admit to being very bruised.

Friday night there were two songs played that struck me and spoke to where I was at:

Janiva Magness — You Were Never Mine

I saw someone again today who remembered me and you
They asked all the same old questions, I gave the same excuse
They said, “What a shame, what a shame, to lose a love so fine”

But I never lost you, I never lost you
I never lost you, you were never mine

I kept on believing what I wanted to believe
The unspoken promises that you could never keep
But it’s a sin, oh, it’s a sin to tell yourself a lie

I never lost you, I never lost you
I never lost you, you were never mine

Did you give me all that you gave me just because I needed you
But when I needed, all your love completely was it more than you could do

Sometimes deep in the night when I hold you in my dreams
I get lost in your loving touch, baby, I can’t believe how real it seems
And I know, yes I know, I’ll have you till the end of time

‘Cause I never lost you, I never really lost you
I never lost you ’cause you were never mine
I never lost you, I never really lost you
How could I lose you, you were never mine

Because really, I was used and played, and he was never mine. So I will move on and find a guy who will treat me well.

The second song from Friday night is by my favourite artist: Ruthie Foster, Walk On (I can’t find a video for that at the moment). Because I just need to keep on walking ’till I find my way. She’s worth googling.  This is one of my (MANY) favourites, not the one from the dance but it’s still relevant…

Today I had my running clinic — so I can feel my voice being a bit raw — and I’m tired. Yowza this is intense — I was behind in my training because of my injury. It was great to hang with my friends and I’m happy I have this community. I’d miss it if I left.  Then I went with a girlfriend to look at rings, and I FOUND ONE. more than a year after my break in (that’s covered in my old blog, which I haven’t yet moved to this blog). I can hardly wait until it’s ready. 3 weeks. Since the ring is being made, I don’t have a specific photo, yet, but I will be getting one. This is quite similar in style to the one I’m getting  (though there are minor details different):

A style quite similar to the diamond ring Ive ordered.

A style quite similar to the diamond ring I've ordered.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m ready to move on. Though I may have one more conversation relating to H.D. before I will be released from this frustration (because I don’t think I’ll ever have one with H.D. because he’s not man enough to bring it up and I’m going to take Mel’s advice and not go there). So it’s time to sleep, dream of sparkling, plan my to do list for tomorrow and get ready for next week’s fun and delight.

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What’s in a name?

“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

But would it? It’s a question many people ask. I know many women ask that question before they get married, my friends have — perhaps not universally, but certainly some wonder how changing one’s name can have an affect on one’s identity. What about when you have a child? Does choosing the child’s name help define who they are? Would naming a boy David make him grow up to be a different person than if he was named Eugene?  What about a girl named Bertha compared with a girl named Jennifer or Michelle or Sarah? Does a name define who we are or would we be who we are regardless of our name? Last name? I haven’t answered the ‘name change’ question with regards to marriage, and I’m not particularly concerned about it right now because I doubt I’m going to come to that bridge.

But it is a question I’ve asked myself on and off over the years and I was reminded of it today when I saw this article today. This isn’t about a person changing their name, but about a place. Yet it did make me wonder.  There will be more about this question in coming weeks perhaps, identity, life direction and all that.  For now though I’m just asking the question and all will eventually make sense.

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I went to Balboa prepared to laugh, smile, casually flirt and ignore the H.D. crap and wear the mask. And I didn’t need to.  Something’s up, a fight was had, I don’t know why, but it means that I had freedom from my stress. Freedom to enjoy the class without stress. It was delightful, it helped me get to a point of being in less pain and more angry. Angry is good. It’s not the hold on forever anger it’s the cathartic healing anger at a wrong situation.  There are so many things relating to this situation that I would love to blog about, but it’s not appropriate. Not right now. Perhaps one day.

So for now, I am looking forward to good things, fun things, and distractions are a week away. I’m looking forward to fun, relaxation, being treated well — reminded of what I deserve rather than what I’ve been shown in recent days…

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It’s what I’m trying to do what makes me happy each day. It’s not always easy, especially right now, but each day I’m trying to figure out what will make me happy. Yesterday I forced myself to go for a run. 30 min. So it wasn’t long, certainly not 1/2 or full marathon training distance but it was according the Vancouer Sun Run Training Program. Afterwards, I went to Meinhardt’s — a lovely gourmet grocery store and bought some nice ingredients for a special dinner.

The stress relief of running is important. Tonight is dancing and when it will be important to wear that mask of happiness and confidence. It will be important to have the walls in place that need to be in place and it’s time to focus on the good things, the distractions.  Because the H.D. slimeball doesn’t deserve another minute of my time.

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Spoken with probably the one person who knows exactly where I’m at right now. A Modus operandi is in place, and apparently I’ve fallen victim to it. The difference is that there is a person to compare me to rather than to a general ‘ideal’. What I found out Sunday night was needed, but painful. It confirms that I need to take space. I’m not sure it’s entirely true — I trust the veracity of what I was told — but I’m not sure it’s entirely true because H.D. doesn’t understand his own emotions and thought.  This is how he has been for years, and nothing has changed. It’s not calculating because he is unaware.  Incapable of taking responsibility, incapable of conversation, walls in place. All classic signs.  No conversations.  It feels like I’m dealing with a 14 year old rather than an adult who should be capable of adult conversations.

So I have a choice. Confront him with his actions or disappear. It’s a hard call because  the easy road for me is to always hide and not bring up the tough conversations. Especially when I don’t feel safe. Which I don’t right now.  Or I can be strong and confront. However, I don’t know how to confront without explaining that I know what I know, and I do think what was said was slanted to deflect responsibility. Which was wrong.

So, at the moment I will work to finding my mask of ‘joy’ so that the trampled on heart will not be displayed. I will rely on my ‘spys’ to keep me informed and I will distance myself. I haven’t decided if I will remove his profile from facebook — though I’m seriously considering it — I haven’t decided if I will cut off communication with his friends (who are now my friends). I will give it a few weeks and decide after my distraction weekend.

So knowing that this is his MO helps, it doesn’t change that I’m in pain, I’ve lost a friend, but when the object of H.D.’s obsession can sigh and say that he’s like that and that I deserve better it says something.  There really needs to be a ‘DO NOT DATE’ list for the dance scene. A warning for the women out there.

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