And I Know I'll Always be Blessed With Love

So, this was supposed to be the weekend I'd go to see Scott and meet his people. Life has conspired against me on this. I've come to trust that there's a reason for things happening. Usually when I don't understand them, when I'm most scared or unsure is when I begin to rail against them. So, no trip. At least not right now. Maybe there's still more for me to learn to become permanently self-reliant and independent. Actually, I know I have more work to do on myself.

I do feel that I have already come so very far in myself. I have a lot less "Oh my God, I can't do this" moments (they still happen, but way less). Money still stresses me out more than I care to admit (and I admit to alot).

I thought I was going to be a wreck, and truthfully, Friday I had my moments, but they were offset by the kindness and friendship of the people in my life. From refusing to let me pay for dinner, to just being there to listen, I am blessed. In many directions.

Pretty cool, huh?

Tolerance

I was thinking the other day about the concept of 'tolerance.' In light of the coming election, those of us with liberal bends tend to hanker toward certain aspects of agendas - gay rights, equality (women, colors, beliefs, sexual preference), abortion, taxes (who doesn't want to know where our money is going to end up?), foreign policy... the usual.

In thinking about that, I was struck by something.. it ended up being unpleasant, because it made me play 'devil's advocate'. If tolerance is a goal to strive for, how realistic is it to draw a line. A man beats his wife, or cheats on her. We tend to reject that out of hand, because it violates basic human rights. But, if he came from a belief system where women are less than human, we are now 'intolerant' to his religion and culture.

Does the line get drawn because we don't want the same fate? Because our belief system is so different from that it cannot support, not tolerate it? Having come from a destructive and abusive marriage, I can't support domestic violence or abuse of any kind. Am I intolerant because my belief system has been corrupted by my own experiences? I'd like to think not. I'd like to think that my intolerance of cruelty is because abuse is unacceptable. Abuse of any kind - power, trust.. the physical, emotional and mental forms of interpersonal abuse. I like to think that my intolerance is that not only can I not condone that abuse, but that I can't abide it.

I will never go out of my way to bomb the opposing party, but I also won't be holding signs for them either. I won't be voting for them or laying down in front of them so they can use me as a bridge to step on. (sorry Jesus, I know that I'm supposed to love my enemy as I'd love myself, and according to Corinthians' definition of love, I am violating that.)

Perhaps, though, I am confusing tolerance with acceptance. I will be watching to see what will unfold for the future of our nation, for the future of my children and family, and for the future of fairness.

Various song titles apply

Nostalgia is a powerful thing. Everyone has different things that trigger memories and emotional responses tied to them. Currently, the changing of summer to fall has begun to trigger emotions for me. This time last year, My Scott and I were headed to couplehood. He worked nights at a radio station, and being in Michigan, it kinda lined up with my post-children time of night. Things change - it's part of life. He no longer works nights, and the 3 hour time difference that once made it possible to be together now works against us.

Thankfully, we have emails, phone calls and messages through Myspace.com. It's not quite the same though.. seeing his face on camera, reacting to my silliness, SEEING how he felt, Oh, I do miss that a lot. Of course, June was even better than that, but for the longest time, IMing through MSN was the only way we had to connect to each other, and it worked for us, and losing that hurt.

Yet, through the distance and absence, I don't feel like I lost him. I don't feel like we are headed to a breakdown. If the chemistry I felt with him wasn't just sleep deprivation induced, this is just a waiting period.

To me, feelings of fall are hope. The nervous twitter and promise of a future. It's warmth, comfort and a strong abiding love.

Minor victories

I won a battle today. I wouldn't say I won the war, but I'll take the minor victories where I score them. I had divorce court today, and the matters being heard were establishing spousal support and requesting some attorney fees (as he's been dragging this out). Both of which were granted.

I don't expect to see a dime of that money, which really is a shame, since that means we will have to file contempt charges against the ex in the beginning of October. In the meantime, I scored a court victory. Cool beans.

In professional matters, my coworker came back from maternity leave. She moved into my old cubicle (it was her cubicle before she went on leave) and I moved into the office. I have more than MIXED feelings about this. Actually, the ONLY upside I have seen so far is that I have a big window and can put many plants in there. YAY PLANTS!she was very cool about it, which was a relief after the lead in I had been given by the former coworker about this event. I'm happy to say there is NO drama. We intend on keeping it that way, and The New Girl is more than cool. YAY!

So, Professionally, things are okay, only I'm a little worried about being in The Office and what it meant before. I don't want to be a 'lead' person - Our supervisor has made it clear it won't happen. I also don't want to be totally isolated from the rest of the office - I have come to realize I thrive on the co working interaction.

I'm giving it a wait and see, and I always freak out about things and make them way worse than they end up being. I find it's pleasant to find the outcome less horrific. my friends probably wish I'd get the hell over it, and I apologize to them for my freak-outishness. After my stressful and emotionally challenging day, my good friend has offered to get me drunk this weekend. I think I may just take her up on it. :D

In personal matters, my sweetie gave me some of his time to listen to me and support me. I am very appreciative of this, and I KNOW that it's important to disconnect in the evening. He took the time to listen to me and even though I offered to let him get back to his disconnecting, he chose me over his game. Damn I love this guy. :D
He even sent me a couple messages through the day to help boost me. I'm sad to say I didn't get to see them before I left work, but they still touched me. :D


Now, onto Friday, where we go back to court to fight for child support (I have the county representing me on this, so my attorney isn't involved. It was in effort to save money).

The higher, the fewer!

*blink blink*

So, I have this friend Who is not only smart, dedicated, knowledgeable, a good mother and has a wicked sense of style, but also happens to be a very VERY good writer. I often have moments where I read something I like and realize that I am SO not a 'good' writer. Maybe it's lack of edumacation, or too many video games and TV. (However, I think I can KICK HER BUTT at playing Super Mario Bros. Yeah. I went there.) I'm constantly honored to be her friend, and often wonder why the HELL she puts up with me.

I love that she has such a passion for her industry, a dedication to change, and such noble goals. I also love that sometimes she can just hang and drink beer with the best of 'em. I am inspired, encouraged and impressed by her on a constant basis, and am so very VERY glad that she has decided to begin blogging again. YAY!!!!

I also love that her fiancee is a good writer and that he journals regularly. I talk to him on a near daily basis and am impressed by how smart and quirky he is, NOT TO MENTION his vast knowledge of pens and harpsichords. I totally enjoy conversations with him, no matter WHERE they end up going to, and I like that he makes my friend so very happy. I thrill to the freakay love, yo.

So, like, the purpose of all this, you ask? I'm wondering if maybe I do too much freaking out and not enough just talking. Freaking out is part of the human experience, of course, but I feel like I've come over to this blog-o-mine and only talked about 2 topics this summer. I'm realizing that I'm not a very good conversationalist, and that it's probably dull as hell to talk to me, since I either talk about how crappy life is, or how much I love or miss my boyfriend. That seems pretty lame to limit myself to a couple topics. The sad part about realizing that is that I think it means I really don't KNOW a lot. I know how to survive, hope and dream. I know how to bitch and piss and moan, but I think I'm pretty frickin' uninteresting.

Maybe letting myself go because of the past being so damn craptacular fostered that ... quitting in me, I don't really know, but I know it's pretty lame. I guess I should start picking subjects to learn and just GO! Or maybe I'm just entertaining. Because I'll walk into walls - that don't move. When I'm sober. In the light of day. In front of people.

Yeah, good times.

Looking for turnips

Can I seriously stop being tested? I mean, seriously? I feel like every month I'm frantically struggling just to keep above water. If not for the help of my family and friends.. well, I'd not like to THINK about that. I make decent money for a woman back in the workplace 2 years after I'd been out 11. In theory, I could survive on my paycheck, if I lived in an apartment, didn't have children, didn't go out and do stuff... in theory, I could even live comfortably.

But, I have 5 kids. And I only have one paycheck. It gets to where I nearly break down and cry when I think about it, so I avoid thinking about it like the plague, but I am doing this on my own, 5 kids, and just me. No, I don't get spousal support, OR child support. Yes, I'm awaiting judgement. Yes, I should get support. No, I don't think I'm going to see a penny. Why? because in March I finally received a notice from Child Support that the Ex owed me 2200 a month for 5 children, based on the difference in incomes and the amount of custody. He was given 30 days to respond, and I didn't hear anything until June. He contested the amount, using his attorney. We were set to go to court July 25th.

July 25th rolls around and he didn't show. Turns out that the county didn't notice his attorney. I would imagine it's not uncommon to make that kind of mistake as lawyers don't typically represent clients in a support case. They go by hard numbers, and arguing doesn't change the judgement - much. Well, they pushed us back to next week, the same week that we go to court for spousal support. The Ex changed attorneys, and I'm not sure the county was notified. I'm worried and apprehensive about where this is going to go. I'm also tired of struggling, keeping my head above water and seeing my Ex spend money on himself while our children sleep on mattresses on the floor (only the girls do this, to be fair, but still.. when you SAY you have no money and eat at KFC while feeding the kids hamburger helper, you need to rethink your idea of "no money). I'm tired of things being disproportionately skewed in favor of him.

I realize that "he'll get his" but in the meantime, *I* am doing QUITE enough 'getting' for more than 2 people. I know that Karma is the boomerang you don't have to throw, and that what goes around comes around. But dammit. I'm human and I'm tired and scared and lonely and discouraged.

Hopefully this is the bottom falling out before the relief comes, but I am so very doubtful that he will ever do anything right by his children, or ME that I can't even anticipate next week being beneficial. I look at it more as another drop in the bucket of stressors.

I'm worried about what the next step is when my Ex doesn't pay. The bills keep coming. My pay will be lowered starting next month (thank you, furlough) and the bills won't.

Not sure what relief there IS, but... somehow, it WILL come, it always does.

What the?

Okay, so I don't often remember dreams, but I JUSt woke up from a very deep nap and this little gem was at the forefront of my brain.

In the dream, I am still with my ex husband, Anthony (hereafter referred to as A). I am working in a huge highrise building, and somehow it comes up that he wants to storm the building and kill people in it. He morphs into a giant demon who shoots everyone and kills them. I never SEE the carnage, but it's implied that it's a fact that it happens. There is blood, but no bodies, and I don't see his method of murder. I do hear people scream.

At first, I do not try to stop his beahavior and behave like a toady. I'm yessing him as he's recounting how funny it was to see people scream and run and hide. I don't feel good about it, but I'm still doing it *TSK TSK TSK*.

Anthony goes on another rampage, bigger, taller, scarier, more demonic. He's laughing about how he's going to give it to them, that they're all worthless pieces of crap and deserve it. I am following him, as before, but I sneak down to a level he's already covered, and use the restroom, to begin my escape. I decide I can't do this, and have to get away from him, from all the destruction. Another stall is occupied by a security guard. How she's not full on freaked out is beyond me.

I jump to me leaving the building carrying a gun.. it looks pretty friggin fake to me in my dream, but it's accepted as a real gun. The security guard from the bathroom had followed me out, asks me about the gun, which was carried in a binocular case at first, but it changes to a gun holster during this part of the dream. She's wondering if I can carry the gun, and all that. She finds A, who is standing a bit away from where I'm at and is implied as 'in charge' of not just the situation, but me, as well. He's morphed back into his normal looking self, looks over to me, and walks back with the security guard to me. He hands me back my gun with a very level look and says that I am a certified guard, and I can carry (In real life, I was a certified security guard for California, although I didn't have a carry license). The guard reluctantly hands me back my gun, and A never breaks his eye contact with me. I have this feeling of dread that I've been found out, then wake up.