I am

I am one of those people who knows there are answers, but doesn't like to find them.
I am one of those people you would label as lazy
I am one of those people who hates to fail, so sometimes, I just don't try
I am one of those people who are extremely stubborn
I am one of those people who are perceived as being bitchy, but I don't agree
I am one of those people who truly and genuinely cares about others
I am one of those people who can be a walking, talking, breathing contradiction
I am one of those people who laughs at extremely inappropriate times
I am one of those people who cry when they are happy
I am one of those people who has baggage
I am one of those people who gives almost everybody the benefit of the doubt
I am one of those people who just looooooves to talk
I am one of those people who likes to listen
I am one of those people who speaks their mind
I am one of those people who are shy when they should be outgoing
I am one of those people who are outgoing when they should be reserved
I am one of those people who needs people
I am one of those people who wants love
I am one of those people who likes to know everything
I am one of those people who are perceived as being nosy
I.am.one.of.those.people...

Are you there God? It's me, Stizzle

Dear God,

Thank you for making PMS involve (not only) horrific mood swings, but also the paining of my uterus. I really, truly appreciate your thoughtfulness and creativity that must have gone into making ones body feel like it is being pinched and twisted on the inside. It was such a lovely thing for you to do.
I would also like to thank you for making men so gosh darn understanding when it comes to women that are pms-ing. You really outdid yourself when you made them willing and able to belittle our pain, roll their eyes at us, and give them the extensive vocabulary to refer to us as a "bitch" when we are in so much pain.
Your modesty for not having men bleed for three to five days a month shows us how much you truly care.

Keep it real :)
Stizzle

Over the river...

And through the city to Wine Women and Baseball I go! My friends and I have been trying to attend the Wine Women and Baseball function hosted at the metrodome for almost two years. This year, we were finally triumphant in reserving tickets. From what I have heard, the sponsored night is so popular that it tends to sell out almost immediately, prompting the Twins Organization to increase the number of nights to four or five this year.
It is really an ingenious idea for women...for a small price, you receive a lower lever reserved ticket on the first base line, and entry to a tent before the game. The tent (I was told) will provide complimentary wine tasting, massages, manicures and pedicures...I.CANNOT.WAIT! :D
I think the only thing that would make the night perfect would be if the masseuse were Justin Morneau and Joe Mauer...yum-o!!

Mark

I want to tell you about my friend Mark. I PROBABLY have already told you about him, but because I am feeling supurbly lazy today, I am going to retell you about him. If you are interested in the slightest respects...please read on.
Mark has been in my life for a long time (about six years). We used to be a thing. My belligerent drinking, and his lack of being able to emotionally connect were our demise. He was my first serious boyfriend, and I was his first serious girlfriend. Our relationship started out long distance...and there were wierd dramatic fights from the get-go. It took us about two years of fights to finally call it quits. He told me I had gained weight and he wasn't attracted to me anymore....I thought it was the most horrible thing anyone had ever said to me. It hurt very deep. We went from seeing and talking/fighting with each other daily, to not speaking for almost a year. At first, after my tears had dried, we attempted to establish a friendship. The transition from being together, to only being friends took a couple of years.
Three years ago, I was living my life wrecklessly. Mark was still involved (although he had made it quite clear that he was ONLY a friend...not more or less). Even as a friend, he failed to tell me I was out of control. He met my current "bf" (if that's what you wanna call it..) and I really wish he would have said something to me, (I still don't know why he didn't try to step in a save me from making horrible choices, but then again, I wasn't his responsibility).
He was one of the first people I told about becoming pregnant. His initial response was to spell out A.B.O.R.T.I.O.N. I was utterly appalled (although, I will admit now that I had pondered the idea considering where I was/wasn't at in my life). He was my rock throughout most of my pregancy. He was even in the room when little-man was born (and he was so pale and almost fainted...I'll never forget the look on his face!!)
He freaked out when little-man was about three weeks old, afraid that I was trying to force him to be a father figure, since little man's father was, and most likely will always be absent. We did not talk for over six months. I survived as a single mom, leaning on other friends and family members.
I don't remember how we started talking again, but we did. We have only gone without talking for about a month in the last year and a half. Lately, I have began questioning Mark's role in my life. He really is good to me. He really is great to little man. But I know, deep in my heart, that he does not want to be with me for the rest of his life. This hurts, but at the same time I am comforted. I wish things were not as confusing or complicated. I wish I knew what the best decision for my small family would be. I am so torn, it almost has me sick to my stomach. I yearn for more than just someone to hang out with on lonely weeknights. I yearn for passion, romance, and solid communication. Am I being selfish?
My friends have called me out, telling me I need to be nicer to Mark. They have pointed out the great things he has done for me, and how horrible I treat him. I haven't really been able to explain that my reasons for treating him this way (justified or not) are to prevent myself from becoming too attached. In the past four years since our initial break-up, every time I have tried to make myself vulnerable to him I have wound up with rather deep wounds. My vulnerability has left me sad and alone, and I just don't know how or if I will ever allow myself to be vulnerable to him, or to anyone else for that matter.
I really need to take my own advice, but I still don't know if my own advice is enough to satisfy my craving for answers. I need to focus on what I do have control over. I need to focus on the good things in my life, and less on what is purely out of my control. I need to focus on me, and the well-being of my family. If I don't focus on my family, then who will?

Are You Serious?

I really wanted to go to an antique shop. As I was driving through the University of Minnesota campus, I spotted the perfect shop to stop at. It was on a busy corner, and there were only three parking options: 1)The metered street with no open meters. 2)A University of Minnesota Pay Ramp. 3) An open lot that said "violators will be towed."
Seeing as I was only stopping into the shop to browse, I decided to go with option 3, and take my chances getting towed.
The second I put my car in park, I was greeted by a man wearing a pale yellow polo shirt, with a UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA patch on his chest. He firmly told me that I was in trouble for parking in a restricted area, and demanded that I move to my passenger seat. I obliged, and the next thing I knew, he jumped into my car and started driving...with.me.in.it!
I was extremely taken aback by this. My stun left me without words for a few minutes...Then I started panicking. "Let me out of my car..what in the hell are you doing?!" My voice could not permeate his brain. This was a whacko jacko on some secret mission that he obviously wasn't interested in sharing with me. My doors wouldn't open, and I was stuck. I couldn't get out. He was driving like a bat outta hell. What.the.fizzle.
He drove out to the country. There was tall yellow grass and trees in the distance. He turned to me and said he wasn't going to let me go. My mind was still racing. I was numb with fear. What was honestly causing this stupid U of M police parking enforcement dude to flip out and kidnap me? I'll never know...because I woke up.
This dream happened about a week ago. I haven't the foggiest idea what provoked it. I refuse to let myself watch scary tv shows because I feel like they affect the way I dream (sometimes at least), and before I went to sleep that night I hadn't watched anything creepy...so what the hell was I thinking?
I really hate when dreams are haunting...especially when they seem so damn realistic.

Things that make ya go hmmmmm

Is warm leaf salad really delicious? It sounds extremely suspicious to me...

Moral Dilemma's

Every year, since before I was born, my mom and her friends would get together and play volleyball and softball during the summer months. When I was in middle school, and becoming very interested in playing both volleyball and softball, I asked her if I could play. Her response was always "when you turn 21, you can play." When I turned 21, I was then invited to play, and accepted with a smile. It was a fun thing to do with my mom as a way of reconnecting with her. I was bartending at the time, and had enough free time to devote one night a week to socialize with people that have known me since I was a baby.
Four years have gone by since my first season playing. I now have a full time, serious job, and a toddler. I also devote one night a week playing on a softball team with my friends (which I will never give up!)...so here's my dilemma. I don't want to play or commit to playing once a week with my mom and her friends. I feel so stressed out about this for a couple of reasons. First, my time spent with little man has become limited since returning to work. Second, Volleyball nights break me away from my routine, and then I get crabby. Third, I have to commute through NASTY traffic to get to where they play. Fourth, every year my mom gently reminds me that volleyball is starting, and always assumes I am playing...and I know if I told her I didn't want to play she'd get upset. And the fifth and final reason, I hate being around the alcohol, especially when it is my mom that is doing the consuming. She doesn't know how to regulate herself. Don't get me wrong, it's not like she gets slurry smashed or anything...but she changes a bit when she starts drinking and it makes me a bit uncomfortable. I asked her for a favor this morning, and she said she couldn't help because tonight was volleyball (to which I had to bite my tongue because volleyball starts at 6:15, and she should be home by eight, which would give her AMPLE time to help me, but since her relationship with Michelob Golden Draft is more important...she said "too bad."). I just don't know what to do..and I would really appreciate some words of wisdom.

++++++

Second dilemma of today...

My pseudo sister in law wants to get little man and Bop baptized while my brother is home on leave. This gives us about three weeks to join a Parrish, take a baptism class, and setup a date where the kids can be "blessed." I have been toiling with joining a church, and trying to rekindle whatever "faith" I have left in me..but I always seem to run into the same religious block that I have been trying to deal with since the day I found out I was preggo--Catholic Guilt.
My initial reactions when I found out I was preggo was not that of joy...It was a feeling of being a disappointment...not only to my parents, but also in the eyes of the catholic church. Don't get me wrong, I didn't regularly attend mass...so what's the big problem, right? Well...here's the big problem. Since I was little, I've had the catholic religion spoon fed down my throat, and I knew that premarital sex was wrong and a "sin" and that I wanted to be married before I had babies...but those weren't the cards I was dealt. It took me a while to try and address my guilt. I have only attempted to go to church once since little man was born...and I left the church crying in shame. I felt like I was being judged for not being married and having a baby. It was a horrible feeling (and still IS a horrible feeling...). So, I haven't been to church since.
Pseudo Sister asked me to call my old church to see if I could arrange a baptism. I gave them a call today, and ended up speaking with the current Priest, Father Fitz. He seemed like a pretty cool guy, until he asked me how long I had been married. I tried to tell him a very brief synopsis about why I wasn't married...to which he responded "talk about a wake up call.Ok dude...is bizzo slapping a priest bad? Cuz that's ALL I WANTED TO DO (that, and run to the nearest closet, lock myself in and start crying because I am so sick to death of people making me feel bad for having a baby out of marriage...and by people, I only mean the catholic church).
I understand that blatantly saying "go and have babies out of wedlock" is never going to happen in the catholic church..but whatever happened to treating your neighbor as you would treat yourself?? Why does it feel like I am going to wear a scarlet letter for the rest of my life?! After talking with Father Fitz today, I am ready to just say "eff it" and not baptize little man...but at the same time, am I being unfair to him in doing so?

With all of these moral dilemma's running through my head, I feel like mentally checking out for a while! What to do...what.to.do?