The Definition of a Cougar

Remember that last post about not dating and all that BS? Well, ppppssssshhh! Whatever. That was a really stupid thing to say. Really? A time out when I have basically been in a time out for the past YEAR???? Who needs more time in a time out? Not this girl. I am single and ready to mingle and since my last post, this girl has found her Mojo. Yep, that's correct. Found it. Owning it. Just saying.
Which brings me to my current thought process regarding the definition of a cougar. I got called a cougar twice last week and I was thinking about how much that pisses me off, haha and thought I would share the reason why because I can't be the only woman out there who feels this way.

Urban Dictionary describes a cougar as this:

Cougar

An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered wind tunnel victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together.

 

Now I am going to explain to you why I freaking HATE this word. I've heard it. I've been called one more than once along with the equally adorable terminology of being called a MILF. Really? Is that the best you got guys? I am so much more than both of those things. So much more. The fact that I happen to adore younger men has nothing to do with me being a cougar. I'm not a big cat on the prowl for 20 yr olds (not saying I haven't dipped into that pool though, haha). I just happen to like younger men then men my own age because they are interesting to me. I try to keep it within the 5-10 yrs range. I am not opposed to dating men my own age, it's just that most men MY age are either married happily or gay. That's the fact jack. If I am going out and putting myself out there, you are not seeing too many men my age out there too. So if I am out there and mingling, I am mingling with younger men. I have just always been drawn to younger men in general. Period. It's my preference, like you prefer a brunette over a blond. Or a tall guy over a short one. Its just what I personally prefer. Or it could just be because I am really immature. Who knows.

 

So if I like younger men as a whole, you might ask, how does that NOT  make me a cougar? Well great question! I will repeat it again- I am not a cougar. What I AM is an intelligent, self-sufficient, sensual, sexy and desirable older woman who has more miles and more insurance than that of a 20 yr or a 30 yr woman. I got curves in places that I prefer wouldn't curve. I got wrinkles that indicate that I have lived a life well. They are my laugh lines and show you that I have laughed A LOT in this life time. I am comfortable in my own skin and damn sure comfortable in the bedroom. I know what you like and I know what I  like and I know what it takes to get us both there. That is called being confident. Not a freaking cougar. I'm the total package if you could look past the "Cougar" you see standing in front of you. You can either hop on over to my way of thinking, or walk your ass down the street to the next cougar. RAWR!

Reality of my Life

It's been 2 mths since my last post and that is basically because I have nothing to give right now. Never in my life, have I ever been so cornered in to the reality of my life. Reality? Yeah the reality. Here's the stats folks, just for you because I know you are dying to know what I have been up to. Well, not much movement in the way of personal growth, but I did receive a small gift horse in the way of being able to repair some damage with my girls. It's not that I put them on the back burner
per-se during my 4 yr relationship with the ex boyfriend, but they were not my sole focus, shall we say? A turn of events rolled out in July and in a nutshell, my girls have not been to see their father since July 4th weekend. Do the Math, that's 12 weeks!! Seeing that we used to split custody and the girls stayed one week with him and then one week with me, that was a HUGE change for me to adjust to. Nowadays my life is spent carting one here and picking the other up there. High school is busy, busy for No. 1 and No. 2 is still adjusting to Middle School and mean girls. Aside from that, I am just trying to pick up the pieces and move on. By the way, the ex is already engaged to be married to the gal who he swiftly to up residency with within 2 weeks of moving out with me after breaking up. Talk about a kick in the teeth. All I am going to say, is that I also consider that a gift and I wish him well. My focus for the next several months now will be on myself, finally. I am planning on kicking it into high gear and getting my groove back. Just watch me, you'll see.

Restless Life Syndrome

So many times in my life I have gotten so restless in certain situations. I am there now. Not feeling the job, not feeling the home, not feeling the state I live in, not feeling anything. All I DO know is that I desperately want some change in my life, I need some change. I can't possibly be any more ready for change if I tried! I have read before that after a big life crisis such as death of a loved one or after a breakup, it changes us so deeply, that we crave change in a manner we never did before. Like people go crazy with change. Like jump out of airplanes, completely change careers, move to other states and make sudden radical changes to their appearance all in an attempt to reinvent themselves. I can relate. My current emotional status completely confirms that I am ready to move to California where I can park my happy butt on the beach and live happily ever after with me and my girls. Then the rubber band snaps me in the arm. OUCH! Reality sets in and reveals to me that none of that is really possible at this point in my life- so I just live in limbo wondering how to move around this constant and relentless feeling that I want to be any where but right here, right now. Yep, I've got Restless Life Syndrome.

My Smart Phone is Making Me Dumber

Yes, I said it, it's totally true. I recently took the plunge back in December and moved over into the iPhone world. A world I set my kids up in way back in July of 2012. I had no idea what I had done. None whatsoever. Wow! That's all I can say. I will say that as a parent of a 14 and 11 yr old daughter, that was an epic fail parenting move that was. I have literally given them the world at their fingertips. I have quickly found out that I can get or find anything via my iPhone. It only took one peek in the iCloud to see that my kids have downloaded some pretty questionable stuff since they got their iPhones and I am going to need to have a talk with them both about guidelines, usage and what's appropriate and what's not. I am on Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest and Instagram and I have to tell you that Instagram is where the younger generation has moved to. Facebook? Forget it! It's for folks my age and this younger generation has figured that out. If you really want to know what your kids are up to, look them up on Instagram and you will be SHOCKED. I promise you. The newest fad is an application that runs just like Instagram, called Vine. It's a place to upload short video's (vs just photos like on Instagram). Pretty cool huh? Yeah, except for a three things: 1) you can't control who follows you, so that is kinda creepy. Think of this- your 14 yr old daughter is on Vine and some 53 yr old perverted sex offender can follow her all he wants, because she has no control over it. 2) There are no rules against pornography. I am no prude here, I just thinks it's ridiculous that you can view a video of your daughter's cheer team and then the next video you see is a very explicit sexual act. Again, no control over what you can view or not view and 3) There is no age limit to join. It's for anyone. So parents be warned that Vine is NOT the place you want your sweet kids hanging out. Just remember, you heard it here first folks. :)

So let's get to the point at hand here now that I have confessed my STUPIDITY in getting us all smart phones. Right after I jumped on the iPhone bandwagon, so did my significant other. Well, let me just say that since we both got iPhones, we barely even speak to one another now. Yep, it's true. He is over there playing poker and Words With Friends and I am catching up on Facebook and dreaming of an organized, beautifully decorated home by pinning stuff on Pinterest for my "to-do" files. Problem is, all I do is pin stuff, there isn't any "doing" going on. Now, I will give Pinterest credit where it's due in the cooking department, I am rocking that out. I have become a regular Rachel Ray in that department, all learned via pinned blogs/websites that I have found on Pinterest. Time sucker, life sucker. Addicting as hell! I could spend hours just learning my new phone and all that it can do for me and searching through all the amazing apps in the app store that I can download and that can suck even more time out of my life. Which brings me to my last point.

Since we got our iPhones, I see a pattern emerging, that we are barely speaking to one another or spending any quality time together as a family. The kids are in their rooms doing whatever on their phones, he is one side of the bed doing whatever on his phone and I am doing the same on my side of the bed. However, out of the 4 of us, I do give myself a break now and then unlike the rest of them. I switch to the TV, or a book, or get up and cook or leave the house and go to the store, but I personally do NOT like what I have become since owning my iPhone. I feel dumber than ever. So, that got me thinking about last years Lent challenge of giving up just Facebook for 8 weeks. I wonder.....could I? Would I? Can I do it? Can I dedicate a set amount of time to absolutely NO iPhone at all? Of course I would have to exclude checking personal/home email as my kids school only communicates that way and I obviously need email for work. But other than that? Could I cut myself off from Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, etc? Could I do it? I was thinking of an experiment maybe? I was thinking of using the time I normally spend killing off my brain cells and replacing it with things like exercise, reading, movie watching together as a family and getting out of the house doing something. Would I be any smarter? Would I be any happier? I think I just might be both if I do it. Question is, can I really do it? I have much to ponder folks, I will let you know what conclusion I come to. :)

The Ghost of Christmas Past

I was thinking about my life this morning and was reminiscing in my mind about all the Christmas' of my past. I was wondering if my children have one significant Christmas that stands out for them like I did as a young girl? There always seems to be the one Christmas that stands out above all others as being the best-christmas-ever. I have always tried to make Christmas a very special day for my girls. Since they were younger, I have always just done the 4 Gifts for Christmas.

The Gift of Warmth, The Gift of Knowledge, The Gift of Love and the The Gift of Joy. I shared the 4 gifts in another post in my blog and that can be found here:

When I say special, I mean while keeping it simple, I make a big deal out of the art of gift wrapping and bows and tags and the delightful presentation of it. I plan for months ahead of time and I thoughtfully decide each gift with all the love I could possibly muster. I have never just bought a gift without putting thought into it. Each gift represents a memory, a laughter, a personality characteristic, etc about the person it's being bought for. I just hope that all the work and effort has paid off in the end. As they are approaching and are in the teenage years, it's getting increasingly hard not to just give them a Gift Card to the mall to please them and be done with it, but I am determined to make it work this year once again. :)

I am just going to come right out and say that Ivy still believes in Santa. Yep, she sure does. Eleven years old she is. I know she is questioning it in her mind, but she refuses to NOT believe. Maybe that is my fault because I was so good about instilling thoughts in the girls minds that the true spirit of Christmas lies in our heart and that maybe she still believes in that. Who am I to tell her differently? right? So for this year, Santa still reigns I guess.

I can say that while I do anticipate a wonderful Christmas this year, I can't help but to be incredibly sad that I have severed my ties with the Christmas' of my past. Feelings of that old familiar guilt has come around to the surface to still haunt me. Christmas will never be the same for my girls. Being pulled in 2 different directions, having to spend half the day with me and half with their Dad. I hate that I am responsible for that. I wonder how long I will persecute myself for my choices? I know this Christmas all I want is for some forgiveness. But more importantly, I pray that I can forgive myself.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night~

The One About My Little Yellow Canary

Yellow is color of sunshine. I like yellow. When I was growing up, my bedroom was painted sunshine yellow. I can remember the sun streaming into my bedroom window and with the walls painted yellow too, I felt like I was in this little cocoon of sunshine all the time. I never wanted to leave my room because in there I felt safe in my yellow space. So, you see, I have always been drawn to the color yellow. What I didn't know then, was how important the color yellow would be to me many years later.

Baby No. 2 came crashing into the world on May 24, 2001. She was perfection. She looked just like my vision and she was the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. This child came into my life to teach me many lessons here on Earth and she is ultimately what saved me from myself. For fighting her battles became my new normal, my new purpose in life. You can read all about the life of Baby No. 2 throughout my blog (see autism). Her story is too long to include in this post. I just wanted to mention that Baby No. 2 came to save us all from ourselves. She speaks volumes every day. But sadly, people can't hear her beautiful song. We could all learn from her if we could just hear her sweet music. She didn't come alone though either. She came along with many friends from Heaven. One in every 50 children are little yellow canaries now. They are the canaries in the coalmine sent to warn us. And if we can't see them and we can't hear them, then we are headed for big, big trouble. My little yellow canary lets me know two things. One, that we have to stop and take a look at how toxic we have become and two, you have to do something about it. I am still waiting to see the outcome and the fruits of my labor where she is concerned. Not much survived me saving her. And I do considered her saved. I do consider her in remission from her disease. I do considered her healed and doing well.

The stress involved with raising a child with special needs can be tremendous and I have spoken openly here on my blog that I went through Hell and back here on Earth and that my marriage didn't survive the stress. Do I have regrets? Absolutely, I have some. Would I do it over again? Absolutely I would. Do I wish things would have turned out differently? Absolutely I do. But my path was layed out for me long before I walked on it and I just try to remember, that my life is in God's hands, not mine and the He knows where I am going. I try to have faith that things will work out as they are supposed to. But in the meantime, I ever start to feel doubtful, I just look at my beautiful little yellow canary and listen to her sweet melody and I know that life is good and I am right where God wants me to be right now.

My little Yellow Canary

The One When I Was Still Happy

So, I got my Little Bundle of Sunshine and I am living the dream with the Guy in the Zebra Striped Shoes and life is good. What could make our little family better than adding to it right? So, we decided to do just that and when I began officially trying to get pregnant, we didn't have to wait long. Baby Number 2 was on it's way within a month of trying! We were thrilled!! We were excited and couldn't wait to meet our new little package of Love. I didn't need to find out the sex of either baby, because just like in Pregnancy No. 1, I had a vision in Pregnancy No. 2 that predicted me a chubby little girl sitting in the bathtub. She has long dark wavy brown hair and a pudgy little belly sticking out. So, I was having another girl it seemed. That was fine with me since I already had all the girl stuff and already knew all the girl parts. Zebra shoes didn't mind either, as he seemed to like being surrounded by girls.

The very first few years of our lives together, were my most happiest ever. I tried really hard to make things perfect for the three of us. I tried really hard to be someone on the outside other than the person I felt like on the inside. I did a pretty good job at accomplishing both things. Without a doubt, I knew in my heart that my sole purpose in life was to be a mother. If I accomplished nothing else on Earth, I was perfectly ok with that because I was born to be a mother. I was never happier than when I was in my element doing the stay at home mom thing and surrounded by children. I must have either been around a lot of kids, was maybe a teacher or had a lot of children myself in a previous life, because I have always been drawn to kids of all ages from the time I was a little girl myself. I just love kids! And I could not wait to add to my family! Baby No. 2 was coming and I couldn't wait to meet her!

The One About My Sunshine

So, I am pregnant for the third time and wondering what to do with myself. I somehow made it through the first trimester, so I decided that quitting the bar might be a good idea. I didn't want to be pregnant and working in a bar. Yuck! So since I made it through the first trimester, I was starting to maybe have some hope that this time, the pregnancy would make it full term. But I couldn't be too hopeful, not yet anyway. I would not allow myself to look at baby name books, think of nursery themes or to be hopeful concerning anything related to this pregnancy. I just kept holding my breath waiting for the axe to fall. Because I knew it was GOING to fall...it was just a matter of WHEN and HOW it was going to fall. So this is how I went through months 1 through 6 of my pregnancy.

One night, I was about 7 mths pregnant and I was resting my painful back in a warm bath and I was getting kinda of drowsy and just relaxing and talking to the baby growing inside of my belly. All of a sudden, I got this vision from out of nowhere. It was of a little curly headed girl bouncing through a meadow of flowers with a basket in her hand which was full of flowers. I knew right then and there that I was seeing a vision of my unborn child. I was having a girl and she would live to be at least 3 or 4 because that is the age she appeared to be in my vision. That was a unusual experience for sure, but I knew that I was seeing my child. I kept that secret until she was born. On February 2, 1999 at exactly 4:20pm my daughter came bursting into the world at 5lbs and 12 oz. When I first held her, she didn't look ANYTHING like my vision, hahaha! She was teeny, tiny and looked so fragile. But she was beautiful and she was mine and she was like sunshine. I told her father the story of how I knew she was coming and that she would be a girl. We named our little sunshine Jade McKenna.

While in the hospital, holding her and looking at her, I knew that her father and I needed to do the right thing by her and get married. We needed to be her parents in every sense of the word. We needed to be her family. I mean she chose US to her her parents out of the all the people in this world, so we should do the respectful thing and be together as husband and wife for this sweet little piece of Sunshine. I owed that to her. I promised her I would do that for her. So the man with the zebra striped shoes and I began planning a wedding.....

By the way, check out this pitcure and see my little Sunshine for yourself at age 4.

The One With Zebra Striped Shoes

So, like I said earlier, God sends people into our lives at exactly the right moment for reasons beyond our current comprehension. We don't know it at the time, but we always figure it out later on down the road. Now, I can say that in looking back, God placed this roadblock in my life when I needed it most because I was on my way to either becoming a straight up alcoholic or dying in the process of becoming one. Nothing could stop the internal pain I was feeling except alcohol. I couldn't let myself feel for very long, so I pretty much stayed drunk to not have to cope with the pain. No very smart thing to do for someone that's a smart girl, just sayin'....

So enter the man with the zebra striped tennis shoes. One night, at work in the bar, I see this guy come in with these ridiculous looking Reebok's that were zebra striped. He was nice enough and I had seen him many times during my work shifts. We never spoke until that night. I mentioned to him that the guy he was playing pool with was a known cheater and to beware and watch him. He laughed at me and shrugged his shoulders and pretty much blew me off. After that day, we interacted quite a bit and slowly, we became friends. Next thing, I know, we are dating...kinda. He is SO NOT MY TYPE. But he seems to genuinely care about my well being and my state of mind at the time. I think I really latched onto him because my life was so out of control and he seemed to be like an flotation device that was being thrown my way to keep me from drowning. Whatever it was, it worked. I grabbed on for dear life. I had to be with this person. I needed to be with this person. He was the calm in the middle of my raging storm. He was the yin to my yang. I didn't have the will power to fight what was happening. I am not sure I even wanted to. I knew in my heart I was with this person for all the wrong reasons, but I couldn't stop myself from being with him and I couldn't stay away.

Next thing I know, we are having a baby. We are not married and we are having a baby. We have known each other all of 6mths and we are having a baby. Did I mention that we were having a baby? I was BEYOND thrilled with this news. I knew that this was just what I needed to get my life back on track. But, fate sometimes has a way of showing up in your life and let's just say that this pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. I was devastated...again. At this point I was pretty sure that I was being punished for something. But what? What did I do in my life to deserve these repeated blows I was getting? Just one after another, knocking me down every single time I got back up. Bam! So, I thought in my very sick mind that the only way to fill this ever growing Grand Canyon HOLE, was to get pregnant again and that is exactly what I did. Four months later, I am pregnant again. But much to my dismay and heartache, this pregnancy also ended in a miscarriage.

I can't even begin to tell you how broken I was at this point. But this man with the shoes was there. He was constant and protective and he was my life line. I couldn't let go or I would surely drown. I had to hang on. So we held on to each other. That's what we did. He gave me peace and order in my very chaotic life. I gave him excitement and entertainment. It worked. Back then, it really worked.  So many months later, I decided that getting pregnant was about the stupidest thing I could do at this point and went to see my doctor to go on the Pill. Routine testing is always performed before placing one on the Pill and when I was asked if there was a chance I was pregnant, I quickly dismissed that as not possible. But much to my surprise, I was in fact pregnant. Stunned would be a good word to describe how I felt that day. I had it all worked out in my head that God didn't intend for me to have children and this man with the shoes and I were surely not meant to have children together at all. I had accepted that and I had moved on. I mean I had SO moved on. So, why now? I didn't know how I felt about this pregnancy. I mean why even get excited about it when it was just going to end in another miscarriage? Right? That was my frame of mind. This pregnancy will not last. I am not going to get excited about ut because it will not last.

The One I Don't Want to Talk About

So...it's August of 1995. A good 6mths after the BREAK UP and I have decided that what I really need is a night off work and a GNO (girls night out). So, who you gonna call right? One of my oldest and bestest friends, Kellie...that's who! So we go out and have a cocktail or two and I decided that I needed to run to the store at the other end of the strip mall to get some gum or breath mints. So I am walking and approaching the grocery and as I near the entrance of the automatic door, I can see that a man and a very pregnant girl are heading out as I am heading in. Then I stop in my tracks. It's all happening so fast. It's him and he is holding hands with a very, very pregnant her.

I am frozen, I can't move. I am just standing there looking at him and he is looking at me and I am at a COMPLETE loss of words. I say nothing and he says, "Hi" and for a moment, he stalls. Then the girl is looking strangely at me as she walks by with him kinda like why are you standing there with your mouth hanging open staring at me? When I hear him kinda whisper to her, "that's Lisa, keep walking". So I am standing there looking stupid and really feeling like a dumb ass. I am sure my mouth is still hanging wide open and I am unable to form any words. But my mind is racing, it's doing flip flops! It's doing the math. August backwards to February...that's 6mths and that girl looks TEN months pregnant.

So I needed some answers obviously and so I called his mother. She hesitates to tell me but says I deserve to know the truth of the matter. The girl is someone he worked with and yes, she was due any day and yes it was obvious that she was pregnant when we were still together. And yes they were getting married. So not only was my FOUR YEAR relationship over, but he got a chick he worked with knocked up and was marrying her instead. This is really the part that put me over the edge. So he was cheating on me. THE. WHOLE. FOUR. YEARS. WITH. HER. And let me tell you, once this knowledge was shared with my close friends, they began to sing like songbirds on a bright sunny morning. Not only did he cheat with some girl he worked with, but he cheated with just about anyone that walked around and had two legs and had a vagina. I began hearing accounts of people he slept with the entire time we were together. Devastating. Completely devastating. You think that the person you love is one person and then find out it's all been one big fat lie. It was REALLY more than I could handle.

This is how the Grand Canyon was formed. And for the next year I would try to fill that hole back in with everything I could get my hands on that was bad for me. I already shared that I tried filling it with booze and men, and that it didn't work. I tried to fill it by befriending people that I knew were only using me, but I didn't care because I needed to feel accepted, even if it was by some complete loser. I needed to be liked and wanted and the only way I could feel good about myself was by starving myself, getting drunk to drown out the pain and surrounding myself with people that were using me on a daily basis. I couldn't stand to be alone and I would rather hang out with some total stranger that I just met, than to be alone. But, being alone meant I would have to deal with the pain and feel it and I couldn't allow myself to feel it. So I stayed away from the pain as much as I could by staying drunk.

Ironically how does a person that is drinking so much also have so much time to pray? I think deep down, we all have some kind of fundamental knowing inside that we are part of something greater than we and there is some kind of higher power that we all come from. Every night I was crying out to God asking Him to stop the pain and help me through this mess and that is when it happened one night. I was feeling an immense physical and emotional pain over all of this. I was about to fall asleep and I remember literally aching inside, like my heart was truly broken. My whole body was wracked with grief and feelings of deep sadness when all of a sudden, this beautiful pearly, glowing Angel appeared out of nowhere. She kissed me on the cheek and told me not to cry anymore that everything was going to be ok. I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside for the first time in MONTHS. She was as real as could be and she was in my bedroom telling me I was going to be alright. That night was the first night I slept that good since my birthday.

I'd like to tell you that immediately, my life got better, but it didn't. But slowly it did get better and that was a relief. This is due to the fact that right about this time, enter another kind of Angel. Angel on Earth kind of Angel. I'd rather like to think of them as roadblocks. I really think God sends people into our lives at exactly the right time to change the course of our trip just ever so slightly. And that's exactly what He did for me. He sent an Angel to reassure me of His love and to let me know I would survive and then He sent someone into my life that would certainly change my life forever. That will be shared in the next post. Things are gonna pick up and not be so depressing. I promise!

The One About Going Off The Deep End

So, I have been pondering for days now. I have been thinking about how I wanted to start this one. How I wanted to get it just right. But revisiting this area of my life has been good for me. It's painful, still, even after all these years though. God was really with me during this time in my life, otherwise, I wouldn't be here right now to tell this story to you. I know for sure that an Angel visited me one night when I was at my all time lowest. It's something I have never shared before, but I will be now.

So the year is 1995, it's February and I am getting ready to celebrate the BIG 3-0. Life is sort of becoming normal for me again after losing my Dad 3 months earlier. Still hurting inside, but looking forward to new beginnings in my life coming soon. I still had a wedding to plan and I am loving the life I have with the love of my life. I remember the events of the night like it was yesterday. Funny how something like that stays in your mind, like it's imprinted forever in time. I came home from work and was welcomed with a fabulous dinner, chocolate covered strawberries and some really nice gifts, one of which was an adorable bird house that, at the time, I was collecting. We had a perfect evening to say the least. I was in total bliss and I was thinking to myself as we lay in bed ready to go to sleep that night, that I really might just be the luckiest girl alive. I remember telling him that I couldn't love him anymore if I tried. That's when it happened. Out of nowhere, it came at me like a tidal wave. He looked me in the eyes and said, "I have been thinking." Something in the pit of stomach told me whatever he had been thinking, it wasn't good.

I remember sitting straight up in bed and saying, "And....???". But there was silence, complete and maddening silence. Then finally after what seemed to be an eternity, he let out a heavy sigh and said to me. "I just don't think I am the right person for you. I think you deserve to be with someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I think we need to break up and I am moving out, there isn't going to be a wedding". Anything he said after that I am really not sure of. This is where things got really fuzzy for me. I remember feeling like I wanted to vomit right there on the spot. Did he just say what I thought he said? Is this really happening to me? How, say wha, where, wha? I remember asking him to please repeat what he just said. He did...he said it again. He was moving out and wasting no time about it. It was happening the very next day. I remember crying so hard I could barely breathe. I kept asking him why? He never really could give me an exact reason why though. I felt like I was breaking up into a million little pieces. I couldn't even feel myself anymore. I felt like I was in a dream watching from some other dimension. Watching the events unfold. Next thing I know it's morning. I am drained, exhausted and have VERY swollen eyes from crying all night long. Was this a dream? No, he confirmed for me the next morning that it was very real and he was leaving me. It. was. over.

I remember going into work in a zombie like trance that day. When I walked into my office, my coworkers immediately knew something was wrong and after they asked, I told them. They laughed and thought I was joking. We were the perfect couple they said. He was The Guy they said. The guy that sent me flowers for no reason at work every so often. The guy who called in the middle of the day just to say he loved me. The Guy that was doting and tended to my every want, wish and need. Yep...that one, that Guy. Only That Guy had broke up with me and at that very moment, I wasn't quite sure how I was ever going to live through it. NOTHING and I mean nothing had ever hurt so bad to me in my entire life. Somehow when I returned home from work that night, he had cleaned out all his belongings in one day and was gone, just like that. It was over, just like that. It was like it never even happened. Four years down the drain, just like I never mattered. And when I say he left me and cut the ties, I mean he really cut the ties. No calls to see how I was doing, just disappeared out of my life and stole my heart and took it with him like a thief in the night. Gone...poof. Like it never happened and I never mattered. It was like flicking off the light switch. I couldn't understand how it was just easy for him to walk away like that. Still to this day, I can't understand how someone does that.

To say I wasn't taking the news well was pretty much an understatement. Days strung into nights and nights strung into weeks and I was having trouble keeping track of time or remembering if I even ate that day. I was going through the motions at work. I spent a lot of time after work sitting in the darkness staring off into space and trying to find the reason for why he left me. I was not coping with or dealing with this at all. I hadn't moved an ounce since the break up and it was approaching April. For two months now I had been going through life without any awareness of my surroundings at all. All I knew was this: there was a hole inside of me the size of The Grand Canyon and I needed desperately to fill it with something. I needed desperately to know why this happened to me and why he didn't love me anymore. Finally a good friend told me that in order to survive, I needed to put my big girl panties on and move. So, I did just that. I decided that what I needed was a second part-time job to keep my mind off things in the evening. There was a new bar in town that seemed like it might be a fun place to work, so I applied and got the job.

This is when God was really, really looking out for me because during my time here, it was my all time lowest ever. The best of me but the worst of me. I discovered that while working here, I had an alter ego and her name was crazy drunk bitch. Yep, not something I am real proud of, but the simple truth. Sometimes the truth hurts, but if I can't claim and own who you were at the time, you can't acknowledge it, correct it and move on. I am not going to say anything more on this other than, I spent the next 2 years filling the Grand Canyon with the likes of  bottles and bottles of Coors Light and countless shots of Hot Damn and a few men that meant nothing to me. After surviving these years, I can tell you with certainty that beer, liquor and men cannot fill the Grand Canyon no matter what. Just isn't going to happen. Ever.

Now I know you are thinking ok Lisa, it's just a break up, why is she all strung out like Lisa Rowe (too freaky right?) in Girl Interrupted? Get your shit together woman. Well, that's because I am leaving one teeny weeny, litle, tiny detail out of the break up story. That will come in the next post. Betcha can't wait, huh?

The One About 1988

The year is 1988. Ronald Reagan was President, and you were most likely sporting a brand new pair of parachute pants and sporting a mullet if you were male and using a case o AquaNet a week if you were a gal. You were listening to the likes of Michael Jackson, Madonna, Motley Crue and Guns 'N Roses over the airwaves. Rain Man was a huge movie hit that year starring Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman. You could purchase a gallon of gas that year for about 90 cents a gallon. Life was good.

My Dad (California Dad) was diagnosed with cancer that year. It was a crazy, crazy year. I was no longer living in LA, I had moved back to BFE because I missed my friends. I was flying back and forth trying to visit as much as possible and as much as my job allowed me to be off. I had just returned from my most current visit in which it was reported that my Dad had a clear bill of health and that the cancer treatments were successful. He decided to visit Hawaii to celebrate and soak up some sunshine to feel better. He was gone about a week when something felt terribly wrong. He quickly came back home and visited his doctor right away. Within a few hours, he was hospitalized and I got "the" phone call from Mommy. Come now or it might be too late. My older brother and I headed out the very next morning. We flew into LAX and drove straight to Cedars Sinai. Later that day, he passed away.

Shock is probably not the word for it. I just left California two weeks ago and he had a "cancer free" bill of health. Now, he was gone. How could that be? I bring up this marker in my life, because later down the road, it caused me a great deal of grief. I was pretty pissed off that my Dad was gone and I only got 6 short years with him, which in turn made me very mad at my mother, for keeping us apart all those years. I was even more mad at the man I was mourning over because he didn't put forth any real effort into closing the gap when I was growing up. I was just an angry, angry 23 yr old. And I felt cheated out of a father/daughter relationship with him. I was fortunate however, to still have my Dad back in BFE. At least I was not completely devoid of a father/daughter relationship. He had stopped drinking at this point and got sober, so we were actually getting along quite well back then.

I think this is the year that I pretty much went nuts for the first time. After my Dad died in April, I later broke off a long term relationship, quit my job and packed up and moved back to Cali once again. This time the trip would bring much delight. Stay tuned for details of the cross country trip I was blessed to have had with my dear friend Curt.