tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73840860078684171312024-02-19T23:25:24.392-08:00tator tots, vodka shots and high heelssimple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-15912236607086043052010-09-26T21:54:00.000-07:002010-09-26T22:23:47.099-07:00the hill, happiness,sometimes we dont even know that we can do it till we try it. There is this hill in lehi. Its near the cemetary and next to the gravel pit. I know for a fact its a 90 degree angle. Honest! Well I have lived here for 10 years and 4 years I have been running. Last year I truly began to love it and began to love running outdoors. Not once have I ever tackled the hill. <div><br /></div><div>This summer I did! I would occasionally make the turn for the hill with a certain beat in my ears from my Ipod i would look at my running partner and tell her "lets go!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Up the hill we would start... my breathes would go with the beats and I would ease up the hill. Ciara next to me in a consistent jog. </div><div><br /></div><div>Making it to the top I would come to a stop heaving for air and accomplished! Slowly walking the rest of the block to catch my breathe....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The other night was different. We made the turn, turned up the tunes and glided up the hill. I was full of energy and seemed to ease up the hill. I made it to the top with my heart pounding and my legs digging into the pavement. This time as I eased to the top the pressure eased off my lungs and I continued to run. There was no need to stop and catch my breathe. The pressure of the hill was off my body and I eased into an easier jog. I did it! I had conquered the hill. </div><div>Running is my yoga. I push until my mind cannot think of anything other than your body conditioning, pushing, breathing and surviving. At that moment life is clear. Clear mind, your ears hear your lungs inhale, you mind feels your legs push and ache, its a high. I never believed in the high until i found it. </div><div>The closer to the top the more it hurt and the harder I pushed. </div><div>Sometimes out of pure pain and my lungs refusing to inhale I would stop at the top. Ciara stopping and looking at me. Now at the beginning she wasnt so hot herself. </div><div>Running in the morning and at night is different.</div><div>Morning is clear, and sharp. </div><div>Nights are heavy, and hot.... Love the dark. </div><div>Now my next challenge? Not sure... I just kicked ass on the 90 degree hill.... </div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-72064429932242963162010-08-15T21:28:00.000-07:002010-08-15T21:53:01.656-07:00Night ridesShadow lady has been up and running. I love my bike! She small and petite but yet wide and sturdy. Its only a honda shadow 750 that hummms quietly around the roars and thuds of the big harleys. Buts she paid for and mine! Shes a blast. <div><br /></div><div>Something about July and August nights. The air is so hot and thick you can cut it with a knife. But its smooth and soft as you slice through it with a bike. The heat keeps me warm as the air dances around me. I am the chick in a hoodie in 100 degree weather. There is peace, speed, quiet and of course bugs. But there is something being on the bike in the heat. I have come so accustomed to the bike my hand is relaxed on the handle bars or just the one for acceleration. The curves are controlled by your body. Ironic that a sway in my hips gives my ride a curvy s down the road. Its peace, heat, freedom and sanity all in one. Ipod, rocking in the hot wind, your body and the bike move together. </div><div>Riding is like life.... When I'm nervous or tired or timid. As I am now in life my riding suffers. You are not confident in your leans, your turns and sometimes i just freaking miss 2nd gear.. stall it in neutral for a minute. I forget the bike knows what to do. It is built to stay up to "pop" back up out of a turn. When you sit on a bike its will balance its self out. Its our weight and movements that shake it off balance. As such life, I thought of this as I was swerving my way down traverse mountain searching for a glimpse of the non existent meteor shower. Guide the bike and it will stay rubber side down. Yet as in life when I get scared or resistant the curves are not as smooth, slow and rugged, and yes I stall it in neutral coming in to 2nd. We stall ourselves our uncertainty, with ourselves make us weak on those toes that are to thrust up to our next level. With out that strength we are at the stop light looking like a jackass trying to get into the next gear. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I rode leaned back one hand on the accelerator the other resting on my hand I felt my inner power seem to seep back. Im on a bike! I'm not on the back hanging on and hoping. I'm in front just gliding down the road in complete control. </div><div><br /></div><div>For a moment my mind will stop, slow down and enjoy what I am doing. The bike is cheaper than prozac. </div><div>I do after 4 summers still fear cars but after you get over how much its going to hurt at that speed and just keep going you hit a satisfaction in your ride. You don't fear it anymore. If and when you lay down a bike it will hurt! But that doesn't loom in your mind, your moves and your ride, you accept it. As in life, something may not work, or it might but you can completely relax, I wink at my guardian angel as they grab hold tight to my gremlin bell. </div><div>"Less Brake, more throttle"</div><div><br /></div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-11080924573280415132010-06-13T19:04:00.000-07:002010-06-13T22:33:31.238-07:00The adult womans fairy taleI went to Sex in the City 2.<div>The women the dazzle, the white dress in the beginning... simply amazing and I found it... the knock off or the original.... what am I worth and what can I afford. Now I figured if there was a a test such as the colors personality a few years ago that was popular. I would come out 10 % Charlotte 12 % Miranda, 38 % Carrie and 40% Samantha. Women that everyone could relate to... perfectionist, the slut, the mom and Carrie... I relate to Carrie but my actions at times resememble Samantha... I guess not my actions but attitude... fuck them before they fuck you... the playa, sex phene that uses them as little toys prancing around her.. and she also in the first gave her heart to a younger man... let her hair down her guard down gave herself and yes got fucked...Love, passion, gay nannies, and securities played on the screen for us all... to cheer and cry and say yes that is me... Dutch men with amazing smiles, its a big girls princess party, their fairy tale on the screen.... yet there is no white horse with a prince... possibly a booty call pressed against a hood of a mercades.. an understanding husband of his wife who is like no other.... a mom who gets a break and a business woman truly happy... Its all of our little dreams wrapped up in two hour show.... only thing better would be a blue box from tiffanys... The euphoric feeling of self worth and power was simply overwhelming. I cam walking out in my skinny skinny jeans, my new leopard shoes...I just need to hold on to this euphoria of she woman power long enough to battle for my tierra....</div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-58922251096427328642010-05-18T23:20:00.001-07:002010-05-18T23:46:12.710-07:00Extremely beautifulI was reviewing my previous blog.. I saw this and remembered how i would look at that phrase every morning. I had to get a new phone and lost that email. My blog entry was a simple reminder of what I needed to hear. Times are still tough I am still grieving over the loss of my princess life. My Boss speakers, leather seats, and 3500 square feet of home, 4 bedrooms, two kitchens and a fences manicured lawn. When will it get easier? Today I have a blown gasket in the truck, cluttered basement apartment, and once again lost my firm hand. Why do I miss someone that distrusts me so bad? I cannot convince him and he will never believe. Funny how you can change for one last chance. Was it a good thing? It didnt help. My young hot biker boy... took me back. He responded to my email about the couch. It was legit, yet and excuse to get close. He responded and said he kinda missed me. I was in shock. He was rude and disrespectful when we last spoke. Why would he miss me and why should I miss him? I craved my nightly conversations, those simple calls when he got home. The little texts that he said he missed me to. The fights! Him admitting he just cant let me go. His power, the total feeling of being protected and secure.. I miss. But he was back! He told me I had another chance. Now I should have told him to shove it up his ass. He is the lucky bastard that I have given him the time of day again. But standing next to him my head leaned on his chest and I forget he is an arrogant son of a bitch. He was sick the other day and I was in the neighborhood. Now I learned that happy valley has only one damn starbucks... Joyous!! Now it would have been a quick and simple route to his house but I had to detour to get his coffee. Now this is when I should have listened. Damnit what does he drink? I know three shots of espresso, peppermint in a latte or mocha? Well when I surprised him he said I got it right. I have missed him so much. That girlish giggle is back. The constant wondering and hoping hes thinking of me. It pathetic. <div>But he came over the other night and once again demons plagued his visit. He said he was falling in love with me. I dont like the L word and its not a true word. Its pharmones and infatuation the first year. Its different then when I read the blog about trucker boy saying it because he is a close friend not a passionate lover. His kisses never went to my toes. He was quiet and understanding. Biker boy is passion and twitterpation. Its too soon!! Worse part is I heard those words sneak through my lips. He is complete satisfaction to me. </div><div>Once again Im a liar and he distrusts me. I cannot and will not give my close friends up. I am not sure what to do. I will not get him back nor should I? Is he unhealthy for me or just a firm hand? Everything I do he is upset with, which is wrong. If I dont mention something because I do not find importance in that act then I am a liar and deceiving him. Is it the idea of him? Is it his stature? Feeling so safe? He is going back to school and I felt so proud of him. I want to show him off I loved going out with him.. He says I come in ass a hard ass and leave as a cuddly little thing. I am just being around him I melt. </div><div>I dont want to think, I dont want to hurt, he came into my life so swift when I put out in the universe I wanted him. I will now have to void him from my mind. I am going to work, clean and care for boys over and over again. No thoughts will be wasted on yellow motorbikes..</div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-68360882517453374072010-04-11T23:26:00.001-07:002010-04-11T23:55:27.277-07:00Strike out!!!Life right now is a perplex bowl of goo..... Since Valentines after making a vow with Mikey I would put as much effort into finding that guy as in a job, the trucks... etc... I did it. Well kind of. In a round about way I ended up making contact with a very young arrogant someone... Exactly right up my ally. Over 6 feet and shaved head... and a bike. I sent a pic to Bex and she said "Oh lord, yep!" His total demeanor smacked the "playa Diva" (from my previous post) right out of her high heels... Game over at the first kiss. This kiss we met at a coffee shop. We had been talking and texting on the phone for almost two weeks. I felt like I knew him I remember standing in line in my heels leaning on him and loving his size. He hovered over me. I remember feeling comfortable with a man I only met once to lean into him as we were in line. He walked me to my truck and as I slithered into THOR... ( we pegged off some K rail the other day! she has earned that name!) He leaned over gripped the nape of my hair and kissed me. I haven't been kissed like that since Scotty. It reached to my toes, it took my breathe and I lost all thought process. As I walked into my meeting I know I was skipping. I dont get twittered. I believe in none of the time consuming flitter, flutter, kind of love, dating hog wash. Now here I am crazing him. Lusting him and just a puddle of goo every time the text, or the phone rings. I have become pathetic. He is a full time dad to a herd of little man childs. He is distrusting, bossy and arrogant. I freaking love it. He is my firm hand.... that adores..<div>Now trying to be a bit more cautious. I am not on the rebound. I am keeping my head straight. And dont laugh.. Yes he knows oil. He worked in Vernal and has a CDL. I dont know how and why that seems to happen. He is no longer in the business. Thank GOD!!! No more trucker boys for me. He is almost a girl in a store, he bought me the cutest pair of cargo pants and tees. He is kind, he is overbearing. And he is gone. </div><div>After several weeks of being lavished by attention. The demons came out. His demons. A simple act and going out with a friend brought on jealousy, distrust and hate that tore it all apart. My outgoing flirtatious manner was to much to bear and the deep, deep scars of a wife gone bad and a girlfriend who forgot to tell him she was married, pushed him to believe that I was just a lying,....... I cant even say what he thinks. He says I disrespect him and cheated and lied to him. The hardest part is he called me a liar. Daddy said all you have is your name. </div><div>There is no convincing him that I am true to him or to anyone Im with. Yes I have many male friends and at one point were lovers. But those who are still in my life is because we grew close as friends to. </div><div>Skinny Trucker #1 actually apologized out of the blue for calling me a liar and the way he treated me in the break up. It was in March. His sincere apology was greatly appreciated and valued. For him to admit he was wrong is something he does not do. </div><div>Maybe someday my young biker boy will see his mistakes also. I am so bullheaded I want to convince him that I am right. But it is not worth it. He will try to control more and will simply have to end then. </div><div>I just hate dating! </div><div><br /></div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-19284935597075455652010-02-17T07:41:00.001-08:002010-02-18T22:31:18.443-08:00but honest my crazed mother threw away my homeworkGood Morning world,<div>I am wondering if I should just stop the fight I have in the mornings between 4 am and 5 am... Should I just get up and start the day in the dead of night? Well it is to me. I hate waking up in the cold dark early morning. I leave my top shades open so that in the mornings the light is looming in my room.. By the time 6 something comes around I feel as if I have not slept. Which I have not. I do not have a REM sleep.. I never shut down long enough to rest. It sucks. </div><div>Also I have a hard time falling asleep which turns into me decluttering or rearranging an area in the home.. Hense comes the title. Scribbles of their homework or bits and pieces of supposed homework scattered across the floor, I assume that it is destined as scratch paper or needs to be thrown into the trash.. That is my assumption of random papers on my family room floor. They are left right in the traffic path for paw prints and high heel marks. If they were of any importance wouldn't you think that you would keep them in your back pack that should be in the hall closet? Not randomly tossed on the floor of course in the path of their mother. All of their contents spreading out even further as the dog, mom, brother and long board passes, trips and falls over. Yes I said long board. They are looming in the hallway waiting for me to forget and wander into my living room in the dark and fall to my doom. I know it is a quiet plan of the boys to teach me a lesson because Im constantly nagging their ass... </div><div>Basically Brendan shreaked as he was sluggishly lounging around the house sllllloooooowwwly getting his clothes on, he needed his spelling homework. Well in the wee hours of 1 am I was washing off counters and clearing of the kitchen table.. A random piece of paper was doomed for the garbage... I wrote a note explaining that he did the homework but I assumed it did not need to be handed in.. He has this way of pouting and fighting at the same time that pretty much makes me crazed. Its a pissy little attitude whine that one day he is going to knocked flying. Its a self serving attitude that I have the honor of hearing every morning because he cant find his shoes... oh yeah they got kicking into the corner so i could walk or I put them away...Amazing!! They say that if you do it 24 times its a habit? Well then its been 6 years when are they gonna get it...... note... I haven't picked up a towel since the had to drip dry....Amazing what a little tough love will do. I havent replaced a shower curtain due to urine stains since they have scrubbed the yellow marks off the floor, wall, picture, ceiling, garbage can...... Its amazing how fast they can aim when they are on their knees every day cleaning up their own mishaps! </div><div>Yes Im a bitch of a mom but children were not placed on this earth to be served. They are hear to be taught, guided, and to be loved. I can bitch alot over the little stuff but last night was simply great. I was making the most amazing chicken faghitas, while my youngest decided to make the most amazing bad ass cookies. My other son finishing his homework and set the table. It was great just a little bit of assisatnce and the cookies were baking, the fagitas were on the table, my oldest knew while I was grabbing the supplies out of the fridge to stir what was on the oven.. After dinner, the dishes were being done, stuff put back in the fridge, and homework getting finished. They are a great help and very hard workers. I am proud of the fact that at 13 and 11, they can cook basic meals, do laundry, and put away clothes. Not alot of other kids now days can say that!!! </div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-56834937150913764492010-02-14T12:19:00.000-08:002010-04-11T23:25:12.344-07:00happy race day!!<div>This was from Valentines loved it why didnt I post it... Funny thing that happened that night... next post</div><div><br /></div>Thank god for small miracles. Daytona 500 is on black 14. Thank goodness. And my driver Bowyer is in the lead! Yes one man in my life knows how to make me happy. I am also thinking that the facial hair on Dale Jr is not accomidating to my fantasies... Its a no go in the sexy scene. Today starts my man fast. Last night I hung out with my dear friend Mikey. After and indepth conversation in the trials of dating.... such as going out and finding that right guy, the germ lingering on surfaces and body parts that we def DO NOT WANT TO CATCH.. K Mikey has just made me an official germaphobe . After that conversation and the News about fountain drinks... I will never touch a man or a diet coke on tap!!!<div><div>Im thinking a man fast isnt a bad thing. Its like a body cleanse.. for the mind and the body. This sabbatical from the desires of the flesh will allow me to gain control of my emotions and also regain my game so that I can toy with the simple creatures call men.. Yes simple creatures. They are easily read if you can keep your wits about you. They are creatures like us all that are driven by need.. Its our job as the dominate playa to toy them and pursuit the other person into realizing what they want is simply me.. Yes its evil and devilish but realistically in the war of love, dating and simple emotional survival in da love game, power is survival.. Heck check out MSN its all about being da playa!!!</div><div>Right now I am getting pure excitement watching the Cheerios car going roundy roundy in the lead. The simple pleasures of NASCAR... go fast and turn left. Bowyer is in the lead, there is a red flag that we can burn up some laps on...Oh life is good right now.. Simplicity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also this is the best...<a href="http://www.mycokerewards.com/showLBE.do?skinType=pillar&id=nascar&size=3">http://www.mycokerewards.com/showLBE.do?skinType=pillar&id=nascar&size=3</a></div><div><br /></div></div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-16417711714699298242010-02-11T14:25:00.000-08:002010-02-11T15:09:51.346-08:00gerbils, dogs and the glory of it allSome how I have ended up with two gerbils in my care while my two children are in colorado with their father. Now after the hamster debacle I enlisted a new rules to the household. No rodents. With our history of keeping small creatures in cages is well bets are that they will be lost indefinitely... soon. Problem is like the last time the smell of death loomed in the home for a very long time... Basically I choked on the hideous smell till I tormented and bribed two friends to come and suck all the vents out with their special vacuum. I would have considered sexual favors also to lure my friends and their handy dandy vacuum. Yet threats of man hood being ripped off and tears and BEER did the trick! the stench was beyond any type smell that I could endure. Mind you I am a mother of two boys who play hockey. <div>Plus these little critters run and bite. The kids warned me that the boy bites... okay... which one is the boy... Also while I was carefully feeding these potential doggie treats....he he Ciara has been staring them down. I dumped the spoonful of critter food all over... Joyous!! </div><div>I liked the snakes.. they didnt bite, they would lay down and "cuddle' well they did. Larry would curl up in my cleavage at night while I read my school work. The other would slither a bit more but he would curl around my neck and hang. </div><div>The dog.. she is to small to loose and will return home for treats. She doesn't fit in any holes or couch cushions. That is the only reason she is a survivor in this house. So here I am stuck in this home with rodents and a dog. My kids are gone to Colorado for a hockey tournament. I hate it. I get tormented with no human contact. No interaction with anyone one other than the Big lab on my feet.. My mind wanders and torments me of what ifs and who knows. I really hate it... I have been pursuing a sales job. Anything that will give me consistency and stability. If I have that in one part of my life then I will not feel the need to have it in my personal life. Personal life... I am becoming a hermit. I really am becoming one with absolutely no toleration for other humans. My ego boosting friend got FOOK off the other day. Dont try to understand me when your life experiences have not even come close to mine. Also I am sure there is a bit of some type of social disorder wrapped up in my personality to make me even more un understandable for the rational types... Un understandable is english in my world. </div><div>My cute little trucker got the same fook off too.. Like I said there is only room with one drama queen in my relationships,... HELLO its already been filled. His is a bit more serious.. I just cant do it so I have hardened myself to the possibilities of what will come in the future... When I lean towards The original skinny trucker dude for comfort and guidance you know its bad!!!</div><div>My little trucker threw out the L word on the 7th day of February. #7 was the day of the death of a friend and our 7th month anniversary of dating... love hate the 7. But even better the 9 the day they recovered my friends body.... and they day my trucker pleaded with me to not allow him to be buried in Montana... WTF..... now it was a lot worse on the 9th.. Hes sick hes swollen to the size of a pregnant woman prolly 5 months on his thin ass frame... His organs are strained. And hes not going to get treatment. WTF I refuse to allow someone to torture me by allowing themselves to die. It was heartbreaking and my survival skills came out in full force. I told him after I begged him to get help to FUCK OFF AND DIE..... or pull your head out and survive... </div><div>Two days later from the pressure on his stomach cavity he got some treatment. His liver is producing fluid. Its a slow death not a speedy one and luckily discomfort overwhelmed him... Point for me.. Now can I tolerate him with out him drinking? I am not sure... I will support and encourage him but him sober, its going to be a challenge. </div><div>So then I enlisted the comfort of my original trucker. Interesting how that happens... Well they grew up together, lived close to each other and their cheating wives hung out together. He told me the truth on the heavy drinking that they did together. Hes just the lucky bastard that prolly has some underlying condition that hosed him. </div><div>My friend told me to envision my life how I want it.. I am I am trying smooth life of happiness and love... oh it sounds like a fairy tale... I am sure the fairy tale would also have misery. My ego friend is in his own misery. Well we control our misery so put up and shut up or get out... I informed him just before the Fook off that hes not that miserable cuz he still married, still in his perfect home, perfect life, perfect wife (shes beautiful.) Then told him to fix it or quit the bleeding and get out... </div><div>Those desires for someone to care for me are sort of there... I am more powerful than I have been in a long time. Due to the hate for men and the stupidity of them all... My man from years ago... computer boy... the one that still knows me completely.. Said the most significant thing in the 4 years I have known him.. He said that its harder to manage being in a relationship than being alone. Maybe its easier for a woman to manage a relationship than a man. The man has to work more to manage the woman.. Okay it makes complete sense... He is supposed to be the man, the strong arms, the gentle shoulder... and they women he has had in his life....well have baggage. But he is not the easiest critter to deal with easier. I still think if he would just relent, give up, give himself to me completely share his stuff. We would be happy......I just want to curl up next to him... And he was the only man who liked the snakes.... </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-47190401748643650272009-11-23T13:29:00.001-08:002010-02-01T08:20:46.679-08:00strength... I wrote it 12-6-2009 didnt post..should haveIm not sure where it comes from but Im hoping to salvage some soon. The attitude in keeping my head up and working hard is getting to be somewhat of a huge challenge. Doors of opportunity are being slammed left and right the only door that opens seems to be at the foot of some steep knarly stairs that I seem to trip and fall down constantly. Right now im just a heap of battered emotions and the lost will to continue in the path that I have been so headstrong to continue on.<br />Yes this is a pity party! Exhaustion and self doubt continually leads me in this direction. I am not sure how to detour myself off this path the rocks and roadblocks hinder me to accomplishing my goal... its a simple goal to suceed enough to clothe and feed my children no biggie. Yes the escalade, mercades and the big house with the full time housekeeper and chef would be pretty damn cool. Right now just to keep the kids fed and clothed would be the kicker for me.<br />I was able to rest at my parent during thanksgiving. Actually it was an escape from all of the stressors pressing on my mind. I almost considered not leaving. Im still considering going back and telling anyone. Just hop in my car in my favorite vickie secret velour... pack my jeans that fit me a hoodie and toothbrush. Instant new life. Secret life..well kinda except everyone knows me and so it wouldnt be soo soo secret. My mom was great in a way she was like when i was small. She gave me the quiet support that I have been craving for years. Like tender hugs and soft strokes on my hair like when I was a little girl. Not judgements not harping no critical comments on my lifestyle. I am sure that she sensed that I was to fragile to even take a critic so small as to put away your glass...<br />Tomorrow is the 7th.. happy, sad. Skinny trucker boy and my first date was the 7th 5 months ago. It was the day my friend died too. happy, Sad.simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-88508987643296932462009-11-04T19:01:00.000-08:002010-02-01T08:19:49.047-08:00emotional hiccup... lets just all catch upWell I havent written for a while. Maybe I should have. I basically checked out of life between thanksgiving and Christmas. I looked at an earlier post that I did not post. I will after this one. I didnt realize how emotionally destitute I was. It proves that there is hope and that situations will change with hope. While sitting here and writing this my phone pinged with an email. Funny from Heather Madder....amazing personal life coach and person. It is titled how to heal from previous relationships. Well I didnt need that at all... <div>I was pouting last night over the kids testing my patience EVERY night over the routine that they have been practicing for 5 Years. Simple, brush teeth, pjs, and bed by 9:30. Why question EVERY NIGHT and wonder why I am grumpy. </div><div>Just like the towel in the bathroom... HANG IT UP!!! I have used tough love lately when they had to dry off with a hand towel. I refused to give them a towel until they learned to hang it up. Mind you they are 11 and 13. We are not talking about toddlers here... well physically. </div><div>They learned pretty quick to aim after cleaning the toilets, floor, shower curtain. So far I havent tripped over a towel this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>After Christmas I threw my life in the air and said fix it... The universe and God have taken hold. As long as I dont send road blocks in my path my life is drifting in a more positive direction. My roadblocks are stubbornness, hate, laziness, fear, and being uncomfortable, trying something new.. </div><div>I am shutting down the truck. It breaks my heart, but its a dark industry. Without Jed, or skinny trucker #2 protecting me. I cant compete. I dont want to compete, its a dark, dog devour dog world and I dont want to become a vicious, blood thirsty pit bull that has to watch their back. </div><div>The other "changes" the universe has enforced for me... My Tahoe totaled, replaced with a 1994 chevy pick up..... lets not go there right now.... new opportunity in a job with endless possibilities, I am excited about it. I also feel a bit of failure because its a failure to work for someone else? Yet there will be a distinct separation between work and home in which I have not had for years. Funny how deep down you ask and you receive. </div><div>I cut my hair... 12 inches donated....</div><div>Love? ha ha nope... I found myself craving someone that I had years ago. I was thinking why didnt it work out? could have it worked out? I could have been content.... </div><div>Content... wow that word came out and whacked me across the face. Is that just a pretty word for settling? Is that a bad thing? Well funny how the universe works... as I was contemplating why it wouldnt be so bad to be content with someone I was with for 3 years. Its wasn't a tragic relationship. It was actually very nice, comfortable... (that is another warning word also) but after 3 years fireworks have to simmer down or you will kill yourself from pure exhaustion. </div><div>Then last night I received a text from the person. Yep, I pray it was a drunk text...because it was not appropriate, seething with jealousy, and questioning my dedication. Ummm hello I was not the one that couldn't step up to the plate. Interesting how simple reminders lately pass before me. </div><div>My cute trucker boy #2. He is absolutely the sweetest, kindest, royal pain in the ass that I know. I honestly love him.. but in a true friendship kind of way. I have wondered if we could make it work in an unconventional kind of way. He detests the city. I would shrivel in the country. Yet he is just soothing. His voice, his encouragement. His innocence in a way is a huge turn on for me. He is simplicity... he is who I would have been with if I had stayed in the little town. When he tells me I'm a royal pain in the ass. He gave me a purpose. I gave him an attitude, confidence, I created a monster to a point... He came out the "the city" with his new boss. I was their tour guide while they tried to add an MC # to their USDOT #... Yeah trucker stuff. They took me to lunch and he still even in public... let me eat off his plate. During Christmas, I went and hung out with him, absolutely perfect, quiet, laying on his chest watching a cowboy movie...and he had beer! My parents place is dry!</div><div>Unfortunately the X wife had hindered his mood by not allowing him to see his daughter. That is my biggest pet peeve, women that use the children as a ploy.. anyway that is another blog in its self.</div><div>After years of listening to Bex telling me that my self worth is higher than I can even imagine, I am starting to believe her. Unfortunately it took another cheer leader on my side lines to make me truly believe those words.</div><div>My new recruit to the "Erin is that amazing" campaign is a friend that I truly value their opinion. He is the firm hand that to a point adores me. </div><div>I have an email on my phone I look at it everyday to enforce the new attitude. It says "extremely beautiful." </div><div>It is the ego boost that I need every morning to carry myself through out the day... I look at it as an overall description of what and how everything should be.. extremely beautiful. </div><div>He is the ego boost to the max! He is defiantly on the keeper in the friend factor. </div><div>He is always asking why someone as beautiful, amazing, successful as I has not been snatched up. Obviously him being married forever from the age of 20 he has not had to tiptoe through the gooo of singlehood and taste the biter bite of dating. </div><div>He told me that if I put my mind to it I could be with someone by the weekend. Oh I am sure of that but would it be healthy... nope... oh wait didn't I do that already? Yeah skinny trucker #1. Oh yeah that went really well...</div><div>Gotta love the advice marrieds give to singles. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-27416180873949035372009-10-25T10:26:00.000-07:002009-10-25T11:28:20.050-07:00those damn skinny pants, cellulite hips and the brownies calling meLife is still spinning but I am taking the advice of my James... tell them you are getting it done and you will be there.... okay... Also a business associate told me more advice... they need you and so you have the control.... use it!!! The truck pump is STILL not on..... and the truck is needed in Williston... we are getting there.... fuck it!!!<br /> I was going through my jeans and my 7's are sitting there wondering when IM gonna get off my ass and get the muffin top worked off so I can somehow squeeze my running thighs into those god forsaken skinny hot jeans!!! <br />My legs! you put them in a line up with any hard body and they can hold their own. They are still freaking hot!!! you put me in some heels a baggy top and short shorts and I can cause damage.... yes the baggy top is to cover the brownie induced muffin top...<br />Im still in a Xanax soothed stress mood.... Im right now listening to wall balls vibrate off my walls downstairs rattling everything hung on the wall in front of me.... lovely. Oh yes the cleaned laundry that is stacked 7 feet tall and ever so close to tumbling on to the dog hair ladened floor.... uckk... Well Brendan is looking for his short pgs and he is just knows is at the bottom of the teetering mass of a weeks worth of laundry.... thank god for xanax or i would be hitting the bottle of vodka in my closet...<br />Oh yes Brendan did ask how I was holding up today seeing that I broke the container part on my coffee pot. Its ordered... Brendan said "we can make it through mom." Little 11 year old smart ass. <br />One simple pleasure though is while I was making breakfast ( that did not require milk.... now I remember what I forgot at the store)<br />I found the book where the wild things are. As we made breakfast I started to read it in the way I read to them when they were very young. AND THEY REMEMBER THE NASHING TEETH AND THE GROWLING!!! There might be hope for them to grow up to be well adjusted children. Maybe, Brendan was sliding on his rear in the team shower yesterday. <br /><br />Oh yes I talked to SK#2 yesterday.. Second official fight I guess.. I changed my relationship status back to single on facebook....So there!!! Actually I need to change it back I actually changed it so that I could keep distance from co workers and keep myself out of trouble. <br />Well I got him talking about the Family... and the "community" It simply intriques me. I see visions of the waltons and big love all rolled together. My degree and just simple nosey curiosity keeps me nudging him for info on the little group. <br />Plus it makes my mother twitch when I mention the type of community he is from. I know its cruel. You know a second wife around wouldnt be bad. She could help out a little, watch the kids when im not here. Heck not a bad idea.... And her payment is half your man... And yesterday I would have gladly handed his skinny, bullheaded ass to someone else in a heart beat.<br />He was not in agreement to the multiple wife thing. He cannot see why in the hell a man would voluntarily sucum to that kind of punishment times 2, 3 or4 more times.<br />He did say that if he did stay and marry the first girl to break his heart. He would prolly be living in two sheds with two wives a hell of a lot of kids and making min wage... The girlfriend would have made him get another one. He would be now probably contimplating what the hell because he would have daughters at the age to be married as a second wife to someone else... He said that really grossed him out. And that he would never ever get to see any good lingere. <br />He said that it would be the thing to do. Now listening to that we are saying how in the hell can we say that is the thing to do? But look at someone who is viewing the primary religion of Utah and how we send our young sons out into the middle of some country to fend for themselves and contract everytype of parasite known to man... because its the thing to do.... Yep made my point. I dont care people will disagree with my rationalization. <br />I can see the sister hood to it. Your built in Merideth when you are having a yang moment.. (season 6 episode 6 Greys Anatomy)<br />I saw that sisterhood and dependancy on each other get annialated when Governer Leavitt helped his baby bro out by placing Tom Green to prison and vanquishing each wife to a seperate county accross the state. Two lost the support of their very own sister. Two were left alone with severly disabled children. Each had no education and knowledge of how the world functions. Two were married in their teens only knowing how to be a wife and mother with the support of three other women. Very cruel act indeed. Worse than the actual crime. If someone told me I could not be near my closest and truest girlfriend I would literally fall apart. <br />Hmmm but right now if there was someone doing my dishes while I was daddling on the computer......priceless.<br />This morning of course Brendan was in my bed... I laid down next to him last night for but a moment.... at 2 am woke up !!! Damnit I was sneaking out to hang with Net. DAMNIT!! ( Gotta love at 36 years old I am required to ask a 12 year old if I can go down the road to hang with my adult friend while he sleeps, and to get past the 11 year old I have to sneak out... I didnt do any of this shit when I was a teenager!)<br />Well while he was picking my nose with his huge number one finger that ended up in my bed, with the blankey, redwings blankey, and somewhere sock monkey was in there too.. The other day i woke up cuddling the damn thing. Anyway Ciara found herself a spot inbetween on her back with her tail flopping hitting each of us in the face. Kalin wandered in to be captured under the covers with me.. He tolerates it when I make him cuddle with me. He used to when he was a babe come in and lie with me everyweekend.... Hell I hate them growing up!! That is when we would read books and play with tiny little furry toys in my bed... YEah so when they left and the next night my little toes would come across the furry intruder and give my heart a reason to stop beating. <br />Jeans and poligamy hmmm Im hitting all the bases today! So Im going to bundle up and go for a run... pray for me!simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-21698137473003364752009-10-21T20:49:00.000-07:002009-10-21T21:10:48.488-07:00how do women seriously do itI hear about these amazing women that hop over the cooperate ladder with babe in one hand and the vacuum in the other. Their nails always done, hair in place... they do it all in complete perfection. Okay so how in the hell do they do it? Do they have family, spouse, or live in something to give them the ability to chase their dreams? Or do they not sleep? It could be that they are a bit more organized, driven and sleep a lot less than me.... Im simply not sure. My two Rifle trips within a week is simply kicking my ass and the potential of another trip Im not to happy about... also I do sell insurance too!!! Then the paperwork, hockey practice, dog walking, dishes, homework, yelling at kids to do the dishes, laundry..... I feel like I have fallen behind and really cannot catch up.. The sprint trips to Colorado are not helping either. Simply put how in the Hell do they do it? I try to grasp everything in my childrens life, my life and any other life that I am now involved in and keep the expectations that they require. Sometimes Im just too damn tired to care. Sometimes its just come and hang out... but the drive down the road is to draining to even want to think of climbing into my car. Now Skinny trucker #2..... I was going to say he doesnt count. Then I remembered my conversation with Bex at dinner (after I turned off my phone damn trucks!) That he to doesnt understand and needs to understand my world... When I get stressed I cant as he would say " I just need to get in my truck and haul heavy shit" First I can only put it in first and reverse, second I dont have a CDL and third Im a mom to two darling boys and one neglected at the moment yellow lab! I have insurance clients, band camp, and contracts and and and and.... simply put how do they do it?<br />I know organization is valuable.... Im getting there. I know some alone time... I need to start running again and I cant say its to cold... last year I was running in freaking 30 degree weather...INSANE, I know but the cold was a shock to my system and harsh and great. Yes this is the girl that is in a hoodie at 70 degrees. I need to play hockey again.... for my sanity.. Unfortuantly my hips cant take it anymore. <br />I need to take one day at a time and pace myself and get one job done at a time... I need to duct tape the kids to the wall and get the damn truck to williston where it can go and do and is far enough away where Its a vacation to go visit it... Yes Willistion North Dakota in the winter!!! Any takers?<br />I need peace, harmony, and a boyfriend in the same town. I need a full time maid.... I need a wife. I need someone that can send off the kids, make dinner and fix the sprinkling system in one day. <br />I need to simplify. One day at a time... a check list... and chore board like the boys.....<br />hmmmmm.... right now I just need to sleep.... ;)simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-7820466007360692932009-10-04T17:56:00.000-07:002009-10-05T20:42:26.992-07:00hungry boys!!!As my sons get older my inadequacies become visual. I simply cant cook. My mother was a wonderful cook. Every Sunday we had a roast or steak. My sons reminded me of this one day as we were traveling to hockey practice. <br />My oldest Kalin "Mom when we were at grandmas she makes a meal every Sunday like your Thanksgiving dinner."<br />He continues " Oh and what is that white thing you put on the table to make it fancy... you only do it on Christmas."<br />"Table Cloth?" I replied.<br />"oh yeah mom!"<br />My youngest chirps in "Yeah Grandma make potatoes and meat... and lots of stuff on Sunday."<br />Well this conversation was pretty much putting holes in my Domestic Deva armor... Who am I kidding I dont have a domestic bone in my body. Who likes to cook for two small children and yourself. Especially when one thinks the five basic food groups are ketchup, fry sauce, ranch dressing and whatever you can smother, dip or swim in these.. Anything that would be remotely healthy for him he sits and gags on until I want to wring his neck. Of course at Grandmas house he is the poster child for flawless behavior and superburb table manners. He split personality behavior just gives my mother more ammo in her not so subtle critisism of my parenting, lifestyle, housekeeping...... is there anything else? Oh yes sometimes my hair just falls in my face and that is an annoyance to her also...<br />Anyway... I cant cook. <br />I told each of my children that if they promise to each what I cook then I will cook like that. They both agreed. Now the "little one" He is now 87 lbs and bigger than his older brother. He still enjoys reeking havioc on my dinner menu. He doesnt like spaghetti, no sloppy Joes, Navajo tacos YES! But with store bought chili.... What! store bought. Now I can cook chili, steaks, roasts, etc.... and a kickass brown gravy. Its some of the little stuff I cant manage. Then I find out that the sweet thing eats it at his dads!!! Also they are starting to eat alot!!! I used to have left overs or be able to have two meals. <br />My kids are simply amazing. Sometimes I feel as if I am dragging them through my heart ache and misery and failures. I pride myself in being on my own. I feel as though I if I fail I failed on my own and if I succeed. You bet your ass I did... problem is when I fail the boys fail with me. <br />But Im a fighter and hopefully my sons can see that and will appreciate the fight that I survived (I hope) for them. The trucks are soo tiring and the economy is killing my insurance.. But it is coming back! Just takes time and I havent been in either long enough to be recession proof..<br />I just keep fighting and keep my fingers crossed!simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-5250783335739595352009-10-03T20:41:00.000-07:002009-10-04T13:28:27.238-07:00Im sickHere I am sick. I have been feeling iiiiiicccckk for at least a week and it has finally hit. Where am I at? SK#2 house. Nothing better than taking a three hour drive to spend it with someone that is well kinda getting under your skin.... to ending up sleeping and blowing your nose most of the time. I am accepting that he is a red neck. I can deal. If it comes to it I can always dress him. But there are things that I thought that would not matter. He likes it when I wear sundresses. Its to damn cold right now winter I swear just hit in Utah. He appreciates it when I do fix up... Seriously did I just write that!! He appreciates it when I put time into my appearence, which I have always done when I go out there, even at the shop its work related you know! Except for this week I wasnt lookin to hot! I told him I wasnt feeling that great. He was coming out but then had to work, I am suspecting that either the Dispatcher is doing it on purpose or he is putting them up to it... Anyway I showed up in my VS pink weekend lounging outfit. He had asked me on the phone what I was wear out and I told him my vickie secret sweat outfit..<br />He said "Sweats! Were not married yet!" Aka what the hell we haven't dated that long for you to let yourself go!<br />But the vickie secret sweat outfit passed inspection, he said kinda sexy cuz the tatoo barely showed over the top of the pants.... the sniffles well he tolerated. Last weekend this is the guy that would rather cut his arms off then snuggle. ( I will give you the speed version of what happened last weekend) I of course snuggled up with my tissues and bottle of tylenol cold and flu.. I figured I could kick this soon.. Ummm no its basically kicking my ass!<br />I told him sorry when Im sick im kinda clingy. He said he noticed but said its okay. As always he cooked me dinner when I got there. We also hit the small town store for some orange juice and anything else I needed.<br />Im getting to be known down at the shop. I went down to take him his mountain dew. He leaves early for the shop so I usually take him one down around 10 am and chat with his boss. Boss is gone on the elk hunt so Im actually doing this just for him. The truckers that are there. Give me the smile and how are ya! Most are getting to know who I am "the Friend."<br />This morning I crawled into the the Berry colored Pete for a trip to get a load of frac sand from Rock springs Wy. Off the sand rail...... Yeah.... I guess for this job they are doing it needs special sand that you get off the railroad cars in Wyoming. Might as well go I can be miserable here or in the back of the 70 inch sleeper.<br />It was actually a great ride. It took us two hours and one 15 minute nap for me. There isn't a lot of talking when he drives ( oohh that was another hick comment, my mother would kill me!) If you saw the road we were on you would understand. Switchbacks BIG switchbacks that fall off the mountain. Now a big truck doesnt hug the road like a personal vehicle and then there is all of the shifting AND when you are loaded that weight will push against you. We loaded at the railroad place... sorry I am high on cough medicine and cant think of any fancy words... Im lucky to somewhat make sense..<br />On the way home I crawled in back again and slept for a good hour. This cold is getting worse. Once I got back to his place I curled up on his bed and crashed! He came in and made sure I was covered in the blanket. I wasn't hungry for food so he just let me eat off his plate....( you have admit that is kind of cute) He went and got me more juice and really noticed that I didnt feel good at all. He was teasing me about my laziness but when he gave me a hug he told me that I didnt look like I felt very well at all.<br /><br />Its the little things I would always think. Novell boy would always sneak in his daughter's good shampoo and conditioner into his bathroom when I would shower and also a towel. He would leave me a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the side of my bed when he knew I was going to have a rough morning. There were so many little things with him but they never produced into one BIG thing.<br />Incident boy made me breakfast when I came over one morning. Okay he is just another story....<br />The little things need to mean something and each person does something different to mean that they care. Novell boy cared we both loved each other but it just was not our thing to be together.<br /><br />Also to update you I spent last weekend with Skinny trucker boy too... Last Saturday night he called. He missed me and he admitted it. We had discussed him coming out on friday. But it didnt happen. One of life stresses he had encountered was his truck was stolen. He is with out wheels until police reports, insurance papers. Seriously does he make this stuff up? He was leaving for 90 days... I will repeat that for 90 days! What am I to do? He asked me simply to come out to see him. He texted me some interesting reasons why I should come and see him. (not bad for a polygamist boy from montana) So I threw a bag together and traveled the almost three hours to see him. I must admit that I almost turned around. I wanted to know that i matter to someone. Not surface, but to know that you matter to someone. After about an hour of driving cussing myself for allowing a boy to make me vulnerable and weak I continued on. He called close to my destination to check and see if I was okay. He could tell that I was annoyed. I am still not sure why I was, possibly because I allowed myself to be vulnerable to him.<br />After traveling in the dark through deer infested roads I made it. I walked around back and he hugged me tight and kissed me hard. Alright that makes the long ass drive okay. He just stood there and hugged me. He whispered a thank you in my ear and continued to hold me.<br />I wont lie and say that it was the best weekend ever. I mean it was great but the nagging thought that I wont see him for over 90 days and the other nagging thought if I truly mattered. Pretty much just garbage in my head from the damage caused by incident boy. He was supposed to be leaving for three months.. Seriously I think him and the dispatcher are doing it on purpose. While I was there (Im giving you the short man story version) we had the do I matter talk... I was bugged that he was doing something. Problably not acknowledging my presence enough, giving me the attention that I was demanding so that I wouldn't feel like an insecure school girl who was following her boyfriend around like a sick puppy. No matter who I talk to we end up doing this. <br />Okay... as we are wandering around the store in frozen food aisle I ask him if I matter.. Huh? He says yes and continues to try to remember why we came over to the store in the first place.. Once again arms folded in his face I asked "Do I matter?"<br />He looks at me and says softly " Yes. you do."<br />"Why didnt you snuggle me? Game on and Im itching for a fight.<br />He responded " I hate to snuggle, I would rather cut my arms off then snuggle! I came in loved on you for a minute isnt that enough?"<br />I thought about it.... I guess so... I guess it really was. He came in and checked on me kissed me for a bit and did lay his head on my chest. I had gone in to lie down for a minute and wanted him to come in also last week.<br /> So this weekend we moved to the we are dating status.... this doesn't really do anything just gives me a different name rather than "the girl." Actually some of the guys are getting to know my name... Maybe I need to stop hanging out as much.<br />Dennis told me this afternoon that he didnt recognize me when I got out of the truck. I will take that as a compliment. I had a ball cap a huge hoodie, sneakers and my comfiest jeans that are on the verge of coming undone at the ass... And my tissues....<br />I guess he knows me at my worst... well almost... I sure hope I didnt get him sick too..simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-14768411154636508892009-09-25T21:51:00.000-07:002009-09-25T23:01:47.712-07:00trucks......So how much is to much? Really not sure so im winging it. Like I said before this blog is therapy and a distraction. Im pmsy, stressed, tired, annoyed and Ive pretty much have had it with the trials and tribulations with truckers, other peoples wounded feelings and anything that has tires. To top it off "lil Missy" aka the 2003 international.... Pulled attitude today. Thank goodness for my friend Mike who wrenchs on his own trucks and gave me a list of why she just up and died on the side of the freeway... (pouting is not a mechanical problem I guess). Well its a fuel thingy thing and she is ready to go.. Note: to whoever drivers her keep the right side filled with fuel....<br /> Right now with all that is going on I am feeling like I am falling apart and stretching out to cling on to some male companionship. No matter how Bad ass I say I am or how present my self as a together kind of gal, I am or how independent I am. As a woman we all want to feel safe and protected. Sometimes with everything swirling around me, all I want is to be cared for. Just for a few minutes. Snuggle up to someone and hear their heart beat. So Im blogging instead of reaching out and making an ass of myself over text or IM.<br /> Last night my driver took all of his life stresses out and pulled a not so smart attitude on the job and got thrown off. I give up.... I want to be coddled. I want a kiss on the forehead and my hair brushed out of my face. <br /> In the middle of my mild mental break down and my cell phone on the verge of running out of battery for the second time AND MY DAMN TRUCK IS STILL ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD...... breathe... James called. James is the best! I dont need a man I have him and his wife Tawyna. He is one of incident boys best friends. We have now learned to live in somewhat of a twisted harmony where James has played messenger, consultant, tattletale and referee. <br />He got to hear me cry today. Believe me he has before.... alot. He experienced almost every hormonal outburst and delicate emotional moment during the incident. Hes a trooper. After the tears flowed and a few encouraging words James was saved by a phone call...yeah right, James made it better....<br /> I was able to deal with the speeding complaint, the continual trucker badgering, and finally lil missy was mended and back on the road.<br /> Skinny Trucker #2 called. This week life has dished him out a few miserable moments for him to deal with also. Unlike me, he does not crave companionship he avoids it. Obviously you can see it has not been a favorable week for either of us and it has just been for the best for us to keep our interaction to the minimum. <br /> He called, everything became okay. We teased on the phone back and forth while he asked me about his conversations with his boss. He mocked me now that I refer to his boss as "Uncle Dave." I asked him how he knew and he said that he came out in the shop and said... "Steveo.. Your F$##% Girlfriend, thinks shes got this G$& D#$%^ St George job figured out." You have got to understand Uncle Dave. Those are terms of endearment. <br /> In his soft voice he told me I could be there by 9 pm. I apologized that I couldnt because I have my sons. He is thinking about coming out and staying with me this weekend. He said he would never come out to the City. He misses me. Im starting to miss him. I need to miss him, I need him to miss me, I need him to need me and most of all I need to know that I matter. He told me tonight in our conversation that I do mean something. It doesnt mean its romantic relationship kind of matter ( I would prefer none of that ... the tummy ache) but friendship and that my time with him matters. I think that is where my heartbreak comes from with Incident Boy. I know I was the recovery girl and he was the recovery boy...but he promised to be my friend always. He was the one that said it and promised it to me. I never asked him to. He broke that simple 5 year old sounding promise. <br />I hope this Montana boy is a little bit gentler...simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384086007868417131.post-71476029862656044372009-09-23T11:25:00.001-07:002009-09-23T12:53:25.215-07:00I should have my own reality showWell for starters. I am really not sure how to do this. I guess its like placing the words on paper the you ooze out when you are having a drunken moment and confess all of your thoughts fears and loves to your best friend who is holding your hair as you lean over the toilet. You always feel better after that. I'm thinking that this will be great therapy. In the years to come my children can look it up and prove to their therapist that they indeed came out alot better than expected. <br />Anyway the latest experience in my life that proves that I am getting very close to being accepted to the Jerry Springer show.<br /> <br />My friends wedding on Saturday! <br />Of course there will be some history and drama mixed. <br />Anyway I am hauling ass from Rifle Colorado to make it there. Its a truck thing in Colorado. <br />I get back throw myself together for the evening. I have to look extra hot! You will find out why. My date meets me and looks absolutely amazing. Come on I can pick them! 30 years old, amazing body, shaved head, black eyes, and smokin hot. Also dressed like someone right off a GQ magazine. He even made sure we color coordinated.<br /> As we enter the wedding he squeezes my hand and tells me to quit spazzing out. <br />Let me set the mood. My great friends are the bride and groom. The best man is someone I dated. Lets call him "incident boy". He refers to me as "crazy Bitch." (If he has reason to call me that lets just say it was 10 weeks of uncontrolled hormones that he helped create!)<br />It gets better.... then sitting on the other side of the room is incident boys wife, ex wife, currently seperated or as he would call her "the whore". I think I scored with the nicer of the two nicknames. The person he has sold equipment for, spent thousands of dollars to divorce, and has been in a horrible, vile custody battle with.... is his date. <br />I have reasons to freak out. <br />While sitting there my dreamy date leans over to me after surveying the interesting chaos around us. <br />He says to me "You dont like me because I do not need to be fixed".<br />History on turtle.... aka my dreamy date.... We dated 3 years ago a bit. He dumped me for his current ex girlfriend, I started dating Novell boy. Through the 3 years we have been confidents, friends, buddies, and support for each other. I have cried on his shoulder about EVERYTHING for years. <br />I then answered " your right."<br /> I have been outted. I will admit im a Nurturer. I can admit now that im a fixer. I am not sure why. <br />My BFF Becky has pretty much figured that out a while ago and told me the same thing a few weeks ago. She told me if I need to fix people go back into social work. But I dont want tooooo..... <br /> Its true. There is nothing to fix with Turtle. He is a single dad raising his boys full time and doing a great job. Other than having to pickup the boys once he really doesnt <span style="font-style: italic;">need me. </span>Ahhh yes I have some bizarre need to be needed. Do I know why? Nope... If I did I would be in a calm, non drama relationship (uh wait we cant use that word...makes my tummy hurt.... hang out buddy ) with Turtle. <br /> Luckily I survived the beautiful wedding. Incident boy and I didnt even look at each other. I had a great time with Turtle. Incidet boy and I did the week prior text and talk about Trucks and a little bit about that if his wife would pull her head out he would take her back. I responded with the lecture people dont change!!! Accept that behavior or get the hell out. I will note that I am sooo good at listening to my own advice. Becky is so proud of me that it <span style="font-weight: bold;">only</span> took 3 years for me to figure that out with Novell Boy. <br />Two days later at the truck yard. James, the groom or my rockstar buddy.... we were figuring out the dumptruck thing. Asked me why I am not with Turtle? I told him my reasons. He told me just quit it. He is great, you are cute together, comfortable with each other and if he will deal with your shit go for it. <br />Easier said than done.. Do you wanna hear the rest?<br /> So I have been seeing someone else also. Skinny trucker #2. Incident boy is the original. <br />Well SK#2 (Skinny trucker #2) has been out of cell service and gave me a call the next day. And can we say damaged!!! Even worse than Incident Boy. But it gets even better. They were raised together in Montana in a "community". They stayed friends up to a few years ago due to #2 moving and one of the million seperations of Incident Boy and the.... lets say wedding date. Their wives (not sure current status) were good friends. Well hearing from both on their wives behaviors they were damn good wingmen for each other too.<br />I must admit with #2 I do get peace. He lives out of town and its a place where I can run away. <br />He lives out of town. I get there about the time he gets off of work. He has his routine and I just follow. Its quiet, peaceful and somewhere where no one knows that Im there. <br />When I get there he is around back sitting in a chair on the patio reading a book, Drinking a beer and prolly smoking a cigarette. Its always the same. He looks up and smiles, says Hi, gives me a little kiss as I lean over, he tells me hes dirty and sighs as he gives me another kiss. I ask him if hes tired and he winks and says yes. (its our inside joke, he never misses me if hes tired) I grab a beer and a cigarette and sit down across from him. I put my feet on him he reminds me that hes dirty... wrenchin... I wink and say I dont care. He touches my toe rings and shutters and says he just doesnt get it. He hates my toe rings. We sit in the quiet. He will finish his page set down his book and tease me about how slow I drink my beer. (Someday Im going to sneak a bottle of wine in his fridge... Beer gives me bubbles.) If he has been wrenchin in the shop he is covered in grease and dirt. I usually get a small hug and have to wait till he changes... and I pester him to hurry!!! He loves to torment because the more i beg the bigger his smile gets and the longer it takes. If he has been driving its just sand and I get my hug and cuddle, my kiss on my forehead. <br />He can cook too. We will cook together and talk and sit on the patio cuddled up and talk and just snuggle. Its so quiet and relaxing I wish it was closer. <br />He always gets up early for work. I wander in later with his mountain dew. Chat with the shop boys and hang out with "Uncle Dave." <br />I go there for work usually. I try to find work in the depressed and dying oil town that I was raised in. It just damn depressing to see all the trucks on the fence and the rigs stacked with weed growing through them. <br />Its funny how where I was raised is where I run for escape. The worst part is I dont tell my family. No one knows.... Just Becky and #2. <br />I sometimes sneak out in the Pete with him to the patch with a load of sand if it was a pre load for a Frac. (Oil Talk sorry..... go out in the big pink truck with the triangle trailers with sand that they stuff down the hole to make the well produce more.... Pre frac no one is up there.)<br />But sometimes is not that smooth. His Ex has damaged him, and he is still dealing with that pain and the denial of how damaged he is. Trust is a big issue because she broke it. <br />This boy is a gold mine of damage that needs "fixing". <br />Im just not sure if my soul can suffer through being the "recovery girl" for another heartbroken Montana boy. <br />And for your information I met #2 through his brother. I didnt not know the connection until we talked one night for hours. Its simply a delicate situation but right now till the snow falls on the patio at his house Im going to enjoy it.simple pleasureshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16293754625244458564noreply@blogger.com0