Okay, so I have this thing where if I have even twenty minutes to spare before I’m expected at work I head to the supermarket. But not just any average supermarket—I’m talking the deluxe version with sushi near one side of the building and a jewelry store near the other. Apparently there is something in my DNA that requires that I find something completely useless to buy every day to give my life validity. I’ve walked out with nothing (not that I didn’t try) and I’ve walked out with two bags filled of 80% off holiday items that I will…
Tag: memory
Pay it Forward Died with Me
Before I get too deep into the nitty gritty of this story I want to make it clear that I am not a bad person—for at least 96.2% of the time. That other 3.8% consists of a couple of things that I will just never share (and is the biggest reason why I resist trying any kind of hypnotherapy) and a few things that just make me feel like an utter asshole. I just want that bigger number to be known before I cop to something that has kind of led me down a shame spiral lately. No, I didn’t…
It’s Not You. It’s Me.
I didn’t walk with you today. I probably won’t walk with you tomorrow either. It was lovely while it lasted, but there isn’t a need in my soul anymore. But, I want you to know that it isn’t you—it’s me. I convinced myself that it would be cold and windy and probably snowy, so I stayed away. I told myself that it would just be making myself miserable. I found a reason to stay home. But then the sun came out and made everything so gorgeous and inviting and I thought about how much I miss you. I could feel…
Love Gesture or Torture?
My hubby is the best gift giver in the entire universe. Seriously. Sometimes I find myself moaning and groaning about the fact that he isn’t present in the moment (because he’s usually doing something annoying like working from home so that he can earn money to give people those gifts) but he always surprises me with home much he really is paying attention. Back in the Middle Ages when we were living together in sin (about one year pre-marriage vows) he gave me a super deluxe hair dryer for Valentine’s Day. I think I might have even got some super-fast…
I Knew He Loved Me (Conclusion)
Don’t forget the first part of the story: I Knew He Loved Me This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that he had scribbled all over the paper doodling my name and drawing pictures of us holding hands, but that dream was pretty much the complete opposite of what I found. There were doodles all right, but not with my name– with another girl’s name. A girl from our class that I had never even seen him talk to—let alone ever imagined he would ever have feelings for. There were doodles all right. And there were about fifty different…
The Fire or the Spiders?
About a million years ago, when I still lived with my parents, I had a room down in the bowels of their house. It wasn’t exactly a scary place to live (Freddie Krueger wouldn’t be hanging down there at any rate) but it did sometimes have a lonely and abandoned feeling about it. Every once in a while it would explode with energy and life when we would have family parties celebrating birthdays and Super Bowls (thank you Denver Broncos!) but, for the most part, it sat lifeless and dark, just waiting for something spectacular to happen to bring it…
Happy Birthday to the Bestest Kid in the World–You Complete Me
Today marks ten years since my son came physically into my life. He had a stronghold on me way before I held him in my arms, but September 21 was the first time I could put a face to the person that until that moment I blamed for all of my personal discomfort. He was squishy and red and looked too damn much like his dad that I was actually questioning whether he was actually mine. He didn’t come into the world easily (I had a c-section) but I would have done it a million times more just to be able to finally…
All Camped Out (Finale)
Get caught up with the story : All Camped Out (Part One) and All Camped Out (Part Two) Now, I admit that I have never been the kind of person that ever looked twice at an RV. When I used to camp a lot with aunts and uncles back in the day, they had their small traveling houses but we were hardly ever let inside. It wasn’t until I was in middle school that my dad was able to scrape enough money to bring a little version home. And I do mean little—nothing like the behemoths that are on the road now. The…