Scariest Regards …

Today Emilee was allowed to wear her costume to school.  And because I was one proud mama, I wanted to share …

My little caterpillar has blossomed into one gorgeous butterfly.

Happy Halloween, bitches. 

And The Nook Ran Away With The Spoon

As far as sleeping, actual sleeping, with a man goes, and as many of you are aware, I enjoy sleeping in the nook.  The nook, the NOOK!  You KNOW the nook!  That spot on a man where you can nestle your head when going to sleep; the little spot between the neck and shoulder where a woman can find the comfort and security like no other place in the world.

I find sleeping in the nook almost as intimate an act as sex.  I have rarely slept in any man’s nook that wasn’t a special man to me.  As I’ve put more thought into this, I remembered that first time I ever slept in the nook.  I was in high school, and it was with my high school boyfriend.  My girlfriend’s parents were out of town, and he came over and spent the night with me there.  And as I laid down to sleep with a boy for the first time ever, he positioned me in the nook.  And damn if I wasn’t amazed at the feelings I had simply laying there.  And of course, he being my first everything, I was deeply in love with him.  Okay, I was as in love as a 16 year old girl can be.  Yet I do absolutely remember the feeling of comfort of being there, in his arms.  And when I first was married, I slept in the nook.  As the years went on, that instance became more rare – unless I was in need of some sort of comfort.  Regardless, when Dick came into my life, not only did I love sleeping in the nook, I turned into a Seeker Sleeper – one that sought him out during sleep.  Never had I been the seeker sleeper; I was in fact, quite the opposite.  I slept on my side, and you, well you stay on yours.  And as I’ve mentioned before, I believe it was the relationship that turned me into the seeker sleeper.  I say with no shame I loved him very much, and enjoyed being the seeker sleeper.  I slept in the nook, I was spooned, I was the spooner.  It was all good.  And when things were done, I missed that feeling.

This leads me to the subject of spooning, another fine act in and of itself.  Spooning is kind of like a horizontal hug where the friends/lovers lie back to chest, and fit into each others nooks. Like little spoons in a drawer.  Another very intimate act, in this mama’s opinion.  I love the spooning too, and again, find this an act that is not easily done (by me) with just anyone. Yet when done, and when done correctly?  It’s another feeling of being secure and finding comfort from your partner.  I have to say, it’s a damn nice feeling.  I do believe, if I could bottle these feelings and sell them, I’d be quite wealthy.

In thinking of this subject, I’ve compiled my own little list in my head of those that I’ve done each of these sleep positions with.  And it’s not that long, actually. I’ve never slept in the nook of Irishman, that I can remember.  Nor have we spooned.  That sort of says something, doesn’t it?

[Photo Credit: http://www.flirting-dating-men.com]

Semantics and Ex-Cons

I’ve pondered over where to start on this post, as some background is needed for you to fully understand the … mortification I placed myself in.  In typical QTMama style, I managed to embarrass myself quite nicely.  In conversations with Chicago Man, he has mentioned to me that he is constantly surprised by my regular daily interactions with my friends.  Whether that be ShaNaNa, Jenn, Random Esquire, Jane Wonder … whomever.  It’s constant, it’s daily.  He said the the only person he has that with at this point, is me.  This made me ponder as well.  I talk to ShaNaNa via text messaging or phone calls everyday.  In fact, it’s every morning at 7.40am and again usually in the evenings.  I talk to Jenn via IM or phone calls almost everyday as well.  Random Esquire and I have gotten into the habit of weekly phone calls, while emailing or IMing as well.  While this may seem like “work” to some, it’s just part of my day and evenings.  I like that.  So, when I received a text from him yesterday stating that I may be the only one he’s in daily contact with, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss seeing a new blog post from me everyday either.  I was lazy yesterday and didn’t write anything new.  I grinned and wrote back that I was busy Monday night chatting with my Chicago Man so I didn’t have time to write the post for my blog the next day.  After I sent that text, I sent another one asking if there was anything specific he’d like to see me write about.  After a bit of banter, he sent me this:

“What about that I’m a reformed ex-con with a huge heart?  I stabbed my ex or something to that effect.”

Now remember, that RE had used this very same verbiage when I was in Chicago.  Apparently I had stabbed my ex-husband and was on parole.

I laughed and wrote back, “Don’t be silly! I don’t sleep with Ex-Cons!” And I hit send.  I HIT SEND.

I’ve not slept with Chicago Man, and granted, I will be staying at his place when I’m visiting.  But DAMN.  Could I have been ANY MORE presumptuous? My mortification at this point knew no bounds.  While it’s understood I’ll be staying with him, it’s not like I’ve told him to run out and buy the biggest box of condoms he can find.  Nor have we really even broached the topic of sex – specifically in terms of us.  We’ve only spoken minimally about sleeping, me of course wondering if I’m going to fit in the nook.

I immediately tried to rectify my situation with a another text … only making it worse.  I finally gave up, after much teasing from my Chicago Man and accepted the fact that semantics has bit me in the ass, yet again.

Weekend Updates, Other Random Goodies and Attention: PC!

Weekends are so fabulous lately.  This one was no less fabulous.   Jenn was in town this past weekend, and she arrived Friday evening around 6pm, give or take some minutes.  I was in the middle of my beautification process when she arrived.  I promptly made us martini’s and we sat around talking as we hadn’t been together since my last trip to Chicago.  At some point, it occurred to me that I had stopped the process of getting beautiful when she arrived, and I was in mid-dress.  I was drinking my martini and chatting with Jenn in jeans … and a bra.  Somehow this didn’t seem odd to me, yet when I finally looked at myself I said to her “Perhaps I should put a shirt on” and even SHE seemed surprised I was wearing only the bra.  The comfort you have with girlfriends is really unparalleled, isn’t it?

Jenn and I headed out for the evening, where we had dinner and many more martini’s.  We had fun and the next day, we had hangovers.  And because it always seems like a good idea to call and/or text people when drinking … at almost 2am that evening, I sent my Chicago Man a text asking if he could call when he was available.  He being the wonderful man that he is, agreed and I was lucky enough to spend the rest of my night with him via our cell phones.  His cell phone, however, isn’t so fond of me as it has a habit of ending calls for no apparent reason in mid-sentence.  This is fine on a normal basis, as I can tell when the call has ended – it’s the dead silence.  After having many martini’s in one evening however?  I couldn’t tell dead silence if you had paid me, so even when our calls were abruptly ended, I didn’t realize and kept right on talkin until my phone would ring while it was on my ear (and me of course, STILL talking), scaring the hell out of my drunk self.  <nodding> Can someone explain why Chicago Man hasn’t headed for the deep dark forest yet?

By the way, those that aren’t aware … this Mama is not a fan of the nature.  At all.  Or things that even remotely have anything to do with nature – bugs, tents, camp fires, things of this sort.  So when I mention the deep dark forest?  It’s because that’s probably the one place on earth I wouldn’t dare try to track him down in.

As Jenn still has family in my area, she was off to see said family and I was left on my own.  I headed over to LetEmBreathe’s house for a bit of poker.  After hello’s we promptly sat down with our matching beers and he pointed out that we hadn’t hung out in a month of Sundays.  I’ve decided to rectify this situation, cuz he’s right.  And I miss him.  Besides, he who advises me to let my breasts breathe, no matter what the situation?  Is just damn fun to be around.

In other news, I’ve a trip set to actually GO to Chicago and see my Chicago Man.   *QT jumping around doing the happy girl dance*  Random Esquire and Jenn will be seen as well, but I’ve already warned them that they will only be seen when my Chicago Man is working.  RE complained only minimally about this and actually said that I’d be well taken care of while Chicago Man is working.  Yeah, that sorta scared me. 

Happy Monday everyone, and this song right here, it’s for my friend PC.  Cuz now PC?  When I hear it?  I think of you.

[Photo Credit:http://eaesthete.files.wordpress.com]

 

Emotionally Speaking … Are You Open or Closed for Business?

In terms of relationships … Are you emotionally available?  Or are you emotionally unavailable? Is your sign Open for Business?  Or Closed for Business?

In my reading of the bloggy blog world as of late, I have noticed a common theme:  Caution.

Do I dare throw it out there? I see this sparking some debate, yet here I go.  Have we become so emotionally unavailable that caution is simply a part of who we are?  Is it emotional unavailability because we are so scared of being let down (again), hurt (again), of the person not living up to what we expect them to be (again), a fear of the unknown (again) … I could go on and on.  Let me quote a favorite fictional character:  “Just how dangerous is an open heart?“

I think what fascinates me, is the way everyone approaches dating or relationships with such different perspectives.  It’s the actual perspectives of people that I find so interesting. I consistently question the caution of others.  I question the emotional unavailability.  Some get annoyed by this, others wonder why I question so.  And I do so simply because their perspective is just so different than mine, that I want to take the time to understand it.  In that regard …

I admit, I’m an eternal optimist.  I believe in love.  I am the one who places the most emphasis on emotional love as opposed to lust, and I am the one that wants my happily ever after.   Which leads me to another word … Hope.  I have hope.  I want hope.  I love the hope. I encourage others to have the hope.  Because in the end, when the world says, “Give up,” Hope whispers, “Try one more time”.

After the Big Hurt, as I’ve come to call it, and as you’ll recognize as Dick leaving, I was in the most simple of terms, hopeless.  I thought I had nothing left to give anyone.  I was drained of it all, especially hope.  It was, by far, the biggest hurt I’ve ever had.  But it’s true what they say, that time heals all wounds.  I suffered, I grieved the loss, I cried and I lost hope.

And then … one day when the world whispered, “Give up,” Hope was there for me.  And this time it whispered, “No way in hell”.   And this girl was Open for Business.

Today’s Theme: Happiness

Someone once said that happiness is when your mind is thinking through your heart.  This saying has always stuck with me, and over time I have come to believe this to be true.  Whether it be the love in my heart for my girl, the little five year old wonder that she is, or from my friends – new and old, or simply because a fabulous man sent me flowers … maybe it could be that I’m finally stepping forward, with no steps going backward.  Maybe it’s cuz Fall is here, or that nothing in my world smells better than Fall.  Maybe it’s because when I drive down my street I see the leaves changing colors – exploding from red to yellow to bright orange, and I want to stop and take a picture because I don’t ever remember loving those changing colors so much.  It could be almost anything, but one thing is for sure …

While I’m in such a happy mood, I thought I would try to spread it around a bit.

A common theme of mine, when happy, is always finding more happiness in music.  Here is a new one that I LOVE LOVE LOVE and it makes me smile every time I hear it.

Now you share with me, please … what’s one thing that made you happy today?

One Step Forward, FINALLY

Today at work I was searching for some papers I needed. I opened a drawer I don’t go into very often … and found a journal, quotes I had used, and sticky notes … all things I had used as “tools” when Dick left.  I found them again today, and needless to say I was surprised.  I had forgotten they were there.  I had used the sticky notes to write down one thing on each that I wouldn’t miss about Dick - and they were stuck all over my house and all over my office/cube space at work.  I used the quotes for inspiration and the journal to write out feelings. 

As I cautiously opened the journal to read what it was I had written so long ago, I waited.  I waited for that familiar pain. I waited for the feeling of helplessness that had become such a part of me.  I waited for it, was ready to accept it. 

I read the sticky notes, and smiled when I saw this one, “I won’t miss him pointing out the dirty spots in my house!”  And this, ”I won’t miss him leaving his beer bottles on the sink.”

I read the quotes, and smiled some more when I found this, “What about him is more important than making myself feel whole again?”

And as I slowly walked to the shredder to shred these last memories, I smiled.  I realized something, something big and important.  There is NOTHING about him that’s more important than making myself feel whole again.  And that aforementioned pain?  The feeling of helplessness?  It never came.

And that was the best thing about today.

I’m A Sucker …

… for Flowers!  I arrived home today to find these waiting for me -

 
They are from Chicago Man, and I’m a damn lucky girl.

Admiration, The Ex-DH, Surprises and Thoughts

There are certain things I admire.  Traits in people, I suppose is the best way to say it.  I admire ShaNaNa’s way of eyeing clothes and instantly knowing if they look good on people. She should be a personal shopper.  I admire Wingman’s sense of … everything – humor, probably, is what first brought us together like peas and carrots.  I admire RE’s wisdom, sense of life and sense of self.  I admire Jenn’s complete ability to put her makeup on – she’s a natural hand at that.  Traits I wish I had, things that come easily to others that I seem to lack, or that don’t come as easily for me.   And then, well, there are certain people I admire.  Today I’m making time to admire Depot Dad.  His journey and travels with the malignant skin cancer, his complete ability to maintain his smile, his sense of humor, and his outlook on life.  It’s a wonderous thing, and it’s something to be admired.

DH: This can mean Dear Husband or Dick Head, depending.  Today it’s Dick Head.  I need an acronym for his new wife, however.  It was explained to me yesterday that the new wife is feeling … overwhelmed by the amount of time Ex-DH has Emilee.  Which, is exactly two nights per week.  Two.  Apparently, the Ex-DH and new wife feel that the responsibility of Emilee falls to her daddy and I, and really shouldn’t include the new wife as much as it does.  This dumbfounded me, truth be told.  She married Ex-DH knowing he had a child.  She has a child of her own, and believe me when I say Ex-DH is actively involved in that child’s life.  Yet when it comes to my daughter, she feels overwhelmed.  And apparently, Ex-DH is okay with her feeling like taking care of Em (when he is at work) is not her responsibility.  In my own head?  If I were to marry a man with children?  Those children would be mine as much as they would be his.  I’m simply shocked over this, never did I think he’d be *that* dad.  His proposal to the “problem”?  He takes Emilee now one night per week, and for a few hours during the week, after school.  I’m in such shock, I’ve refrained from speaking to him regarding this for fear of pulling a Mrs. Bobbitt on his stupid, IDIOTIC ass.  His thinking and mine, in the ten years we were married, were never in sync.  And apparently, we are still out of sync. 

Chicago Man and I have a date tonight, and it’s my birthday.  I can’t think of another way I’d like to spend my evening.  He also recently hinted that a surprise is coming my way.  Sort of.  At least in a hypothetical sort of way.  

76 minutes and 8 seconds – the amount of time I spent on the phone with Random Esquire this weekend.  I’d say approximately 62 minutes and 3 seconds were spent on the topic of sex.  *toothy grin* 

[Photo Credit: www.savagechickens.com]

Righting a Wrong

I messed up.  And in doing so, I lost a friend.  And I hurt that friend, without meaning to.  I was selfish, thinking the reason for friend being upset was silly.  Hindsight, being the little bitch that she is, has given me some clearer insight as to what it was that I actually DID.  And yes, I messed up. 

The thing is, I’m trying, hard, to make it right.  And said ex-friend won’t let it happen.  I’ve asked for a chance to explain, to give some apologies, to let me say it in person.  And ex-friend simply, will not give me that chance. 

What else is an ex-friend to do?  I’ve asked, I’ve practically pleaded.  Short of cornering ex-friend, I’m at a loss.

Advice would be appreciated.