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LJ idol week 7: Where I’m From    
06:40pm 29/01/2017
  At funerals people tend to speak of good memories. They speak of kindness and compassion, how no one ever disliked that person. At my grandmother's funeral, no one spoke. We couldn't bring ourselves to stand up and lie. My grandmother had never been compassionate. Ever since I could remember she had been a story teller, to put it nicely. She told lie after lie to anyone she met. She once told everyone at church that my teenage sister had gone to Florida to stay with her dad because she was pregnant. When she returned from he visit with her dad, my sister was so embarrassed about the lie, she never went to church again. Years later, she was banned from that same church for reasons unknown to me. When I was a toddler she called CPS on my mom because my mom wouldn't let her make the parenting decisions. My grandmother liked to be in charge. Anyone who disagree with her was wrong. She made sure you knew that she was in charge by talking louder than anyone in the room. On more than one occasion she had called the police to her house to have a family member who was living there kicked out with no notice given at all to the family member. She seemed to prefer her garden and feeding squirrels to her family. Thank go for that though because Mamaw could not cook. We would all reluctantly eat her meals to not hurt her feelings, but it was not good. As dementia set in, things only got worse. I knew it was her time when she had stopped talking. Mamaw never stopped talking. The day before she passed we had come to visit her in the hospital and she didn't even recognize us. She just quietly whispered to the baby, her great grandson who she had just met and ignored the rest of us. So we all struggled that fall day to say anything because we all thought that there was nothing nice to say. "She was a loud, strong, bossy old lady." just doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

It's been a few months now, and it seems every time I go to her house to help clean or pack away her things I discover another memory. No one ever knocked on Mamaw's door, we all just walked right in. Most of us lived there at one point or another. When Steve had spent every last dime we had on drugs and got us kicked out of our house, 5 kids, and 2 adult shared the upstairs bedrooms of her house. That Christmas I was sick, and I laid in her bed while she brought me soup and let me play with my new toys. She loved christmas, we all did. We were all there when she died, my mom, sister, and I along with three of my four uncles. No one shed a tear. Not because we did not mourn her, but because we are tough. We don't cry in my family, we get through it. That we learned from Mamaw. One day I know my funeral will come. I hope that people will have something nice to say about me. Maybe a sweet tale about my passion for gardening, or how my door was always open to anyone who needed me. Maybe they won't say it out loud, but I know they will all be thinking that I was a loud, bossy woman. I hope at least some of them will know, I got it from my grandmother. Maybe I will learn to cook one day.

Patricia Louise Cartwright
March 17th 1940- October 19th 2016
Loud, Strong, Bossy, lover of Christmas, and Gardening just like me.
 
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11:59am 23/01/2017
 

100% true. As crazy as it sounds, he not only won't speak to me but also not my sister who is his half sister or his dad (that one makes sense). He speaks to his mom, his sister (my step sister) and his grand parents. It's very weird specially since I got ahold of him years later and we did email back-and-forth briefly before he just stopped talking to me again. This was probably only in the second time in my life that someone walked out on me like that, the first being my dad.

 
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LJ Idol Week 6: Heel turn   
01:24pm 21/01/2017
  I remember him so clearly. Blond haired, blue eyed, tall and lanky with a prominent nose. The first time I really saw him as anything other than that kid who played with us at parties, he was standing in my living room. My mom had just informed me that we were moving in with Steve. We would be moving into a big new house, and his kids would be staying with us. I was so excited to have a sister and another brother. I didn't know then that Aaron would become my best friend. I didn't know he would change my life.

Our favorite thing to do was play toy shop. We would own a big toy store in the middle of Hollywood and sell our toys to all the biggest celebrities. We both loved nick at night so Lucille Ball was a frequent customer. We would play for hours, listing off celebrities, and how we would meet them all. One day, we said, we would move to California. We'd work in the movies and live together forever. We would pick out appliances for our future home when our parents took us to home depot and talk about the posh life we would live. When Steve was in a mood, Aaron would protect me. He pointed out that Steve had treated him better or take the blame when I had really been the guilty one. I am not sure I would have survived all those years if it wasn't for my two brothers.

He was never my step brother, just my brother. I loved him so much. People often mistook Aaron for my biological brother because we looked so much alike and were so inseparable. He was older, and smarter so he taught me about the world. He read huge books so I loved books too. He was a straight A student so I worked my hardest to keep my grades up. There came as time when Aaron got too old to play with his baby sister as much. He got too tired of watching his Dad's abuse so he stayed with his mom and visited on the weekends. We would take the ferry over to the mall or walk to the children's museum when he came to visit. His mom moved one state over, about a 5 hour drive, but he made that drive nearly every weekend. He had a car then so we could get away. In my time with him, I felt like nothing could ever go wrong. It almost made having his dad in my life worth it.

Finally, the day came, the day of my Independence. January 1st 1998, I will never forget that date. Steve had gone too far. Mom kicked him out, he packed up his stuff in the middle of the night and I would never have to deal with his abuse again. After nearly 10 years, the majority of my life, I was finally free. I thought briefly of my other brother who was by then an adult. He would still come to visit, I was sure of that. So I dismissed the idea that the divorce would make a difference in our relationship. Yet winter turned into spring with no sight of him. He was a senior, I told myself. He lived far away. He was busy. Visiting was harder. I was sure when he had more time he would come see us. I had faith in my brother. Our bond could not be broken.

The last time I saw him, he knocked on the door of my best friend's house. My mom had told him I'd be there. Someone had knocked on the door and we'd gone to answer. It was a bright summer day, and he seemed to glow just like the sun behind him. He came inside and showed me his new tattoo on his foot. He told me how bad it hurt. He told me of his plans to attend Duke university. How he would study architecture. He told me he would come see me whenever he could but that he had to go now. He didn't have much time. He was there no more than 5 minutes then turned on his heels and walked out of my life forever. I have tried over the years to talk to him, but he seems to have no interest in a girl who's Mom was once married to his Dad. We exchanged Emails once for a bit and then one day he just never replied. We were facebook friends briefly and then he deleted me, blocked me too. I don't know what I did. I can only imagine I was a reminder of his estranged father. It seems I meant a lot less to him than I thought. Every now and then when I watch I love Lucy, or work on a play, I think back to my second brother. I wonder if things remind him of me or what he is up to these days. Last I heard he was living in California, working on movies.
 
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LJ idol week 4: Fear is the heart of love   
08:59pm 11/01/2017
 

I don't know if I can do this. I say it all the time and people think it's a joke. I've done this before, two deployments down, one coming up sooner than I ever expected. Where did the time go? It seems like only last week I assured him that early 2017 was a great time for a deployment. It meant he'd be home for almost a year. Not straight, of course but a few weeks gone, here and there is nothing.

I am a pro by now, that's what I appears. We've never done this with kids though. We were only engaged the last time he deployed. Our five year wedding anniversary was last week. It's been more than five years. I repeat the mantra to myself, the same thing I tell the newbies on their first deployment "keep busy, don't think about it, don't focus on it, go on with your life, send E-mails and packages when you can, don't stress over making them fancy or perfect, he doesn't care. Do your own thing, enjoy your independence. The first few weeks seem normal, you're used to that, the next few weeks are hard and then you find your new normal. By the time he comes home, deployment is the normal." I know it becomes normal. I know we will find a way, but I'm still scared.

I have to keep going though. I have to laugh when I say I may not make it because he can't see my fear. I have to be the strong one. If I am afraid, he is afraid. I have to handle things on my own now. I can't tell him when we have a problem. Fix it first, E-mail him when it's fixed. That's our deployment strategy. That's how he gets by. He can't be left to worry about things he can do nothing about.

It's the kids though that scare me the most. Nora acts out when he is gone. She is only three, she doesn't get it. She is a daddy's girl, she looks just like him. She needs her daddy and she doesn't know why he leaves so much. "I miss Daddy" I repeat to her often. I want her to think of him. I want her to know she is not alone. She and I are in this together. I am his girl too, after all. She gets me. She is my best friend. We fight like cats and dogs but at the end of the day, I stay strong for her. Tristan, he has always been more attached to me. He may not even notice Daddy is gone at all. By the time my husband returns our son will have almost doubled in age. Over the next several months I will show him videos, and pictures and let him talk on the phone. Still, I am afraid he won't even recognize his father when he returns. Always afraid. Not nearly enough time left. Still, I go on because not doing it isn't an option. I don't know if I can do this, but I have to. Failure is not an option.

 
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LJ idol week 3: Brushback Pitch    
12:41am 13/12/2016
  I saw his picture the other day, and it hurt. It's so strange to me that someone can still have that kind of power over me. The kind of power that made me hide in a back room when I knew he was at our house even as a grown woman. I tell myself he can't hurt me now. Logically, I know that, but something strange happens when he is around. I flash back to the tiny little girl I was the day I first gave him a second glance. Just four years old, excited about a new family member. I wish I could tell her now that she would be okay. It would be a lie but maybe it would comfort her. She died, that little girl in me, she was outgoing, charming, confidant. I am none of those things.

I am the little girl who at five years old, hid in her room all day. She didn't want to upset him so she avoided him. She didn't want another "spanking". I am the seven year old who learned to stop complaining about staying in the corner all day. I make it through, silently, and in pain because I know that standing up for myself has consequences. I am eight and I will not cry because crying means a beating. I show no emotion. I am that ten year old who spent every second she could with friends because she was afraid to face him. I haven't faced him since the day he left when I was 12 years old.

My sister loves him, and I don't blame her. He is her father. He treated her better. So when he comes to pick her up, I hide. When she posts his photos, I cringe, and move on. I am ashamed to admit that he still controls my life. I am shy, quiet, reserved. I back away from arguments, avoid conflict. I don't know how to stand up for myself. I live in fear. I wonder how different my life would be if my mom hadn't let Steve into our lives. How different I would be. He still controls me. I am so ashamed of that.
 
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LJ Idol week 2: That One Friend   
09:51pm 30/11/2016
  "Robin, this is Cole, he's a slut too" JR introduced me to an old friend of his. I laughed, because I knew who I was. I was the slutty friend. I embraced it because women should not be ashamed of their sexuality. I was against slut shaming well before it was cool. I embraced the term. My night ended with a game of truth or dare, Cole and I were dared to have sex as everyone else watched. I didn't care, as long as we had a condom. We threw a blanket over us and our friends eventually gave us some privacy. A few weeks later Cole went back to his home town and I moved on to the next guy.

When I was in high school, back when I had only ever had sex with my long term boyfriend, I was still the slut. I talked about my sexuality, I embraced it and so people thought surely, I had been around the block. It wasn't until years later that my friends told me about this, and I laughed it off. Like I said, no shame in my slut. I don't know who the last person was that I had sex with before I met my husband. Not because I don't remember names but because it was a threesome with a friend of mine and her boyfriend. Technically it was two last people.


Seventeen, that's my number and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Back when I hit that number at 22, it was a lot more impressive than now. I was number five for my husband. I wonder if he ever wishes he had a few more sexual adventures before we met. We were both still so young. JR is still single, and has long surpassed me in numbers. If you ask him though, I'm still that friend. He teases me now about the fact that Cole now looks like a homeless man or that I didn't give him the time of day because he was a relationship guy and I was a just sex kind of girl.

"Robin! I want to have sex with you!" Cody yells as we get out of the car. He's the slutty friend now. He puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk to the bar.
"it's too bad you're married, I'd love to see what's under that dress" I laugh again and think, if only he knew. People change, life goes on. He won't always be that friend. in another year he will be married himself. Hopefully he will look back on it all and smile because he lived his life to the fullest. I know I did.
 
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LJ Idol Week 1: I need the struggle to feel alive   
09:41pm 19/11/2016
 

The pain hits me after about an hour. Not nearly as hard as the first time, but pain none the less. "I think it's starting" I tell Michelle who rushes to my side along with Sara, a relative stranger. "It's not too bad, but it hurts" I explain. An hour later I won't be saying the same. My sister reads the monitors and tells me that was 10 minutes apart. Regular now, stronger nearly every time. I begin to wonder why I wanted to do this again, what had I gotten myself into? Maybe this was a bad idea. I Try and remember the quotes I'd meant to save. Maybe a bible verse to get me through the next few hours, but the pain hits me again, and I am off in my own world.

They are excited, my mom and sister especially. I want to be excited but I am busy. With each new rush of pain, Michelle and Sara rub my back, ask where I am hurting, what they can do to help, and then move me to another position. That's what we are supposed to do, Paige told me that. My husband and I spent 12 weeks with Paige, and two other couples preparing for this moment only to have him not be here. My sister is texting him, keeping him up to date on each new visit from the nurse. Three centimeters, then five. Five is when I should have been arriving according to Paige, but I couldn't fight the doctors any longer. They needed him out, they told me. As the pain becomes more frequent, my doulas begin working extra hard. I think back to the other woman I have witnessed giving birth. My roommate, my friend, and my sister. I think back to the first time I did this. It was four and a half hours last time. I wonder how long it's been this so far but I can't read the clock between contractions. I barely have time to move to a new position between them. This isn't helping anymore. Every position moves the pain until my whole body is sore and exhausted. I ask to go back to the bed, and tell my sister to call my husband.

"I'm going to ask for pain medication" I tell him "and if that doesn't work, an epidural" I feel ashamed. I want him to tell me no, keep going. When the pain gets so bad you want medication, you are in transition, the end is near. I know all of this but I want him to say it. Instead he agrees. When I ask the midwife for IV meds, she tells me that I may as well get an epidural because I'll want one anyway. She's probably right, but I don't like this one. I avoided her my whole pregnancy only to be stuck with her in the end. So I disagree with her simply because it is her. Michelle asks if I can get into the shower, and the midwife says no. "bullshit" I think. I was told I could. I want to ask her to call the doctor, but another contraction hits, and instead I yell at her that I would like to try the IV meds first. She returns with them soon after.

I am high now, my vision is blurry, contractions coming 2 minutes apart. Between each one, I want to sleep. The meds make me tired, but it isn't enough time to sleep. I sush my mom and close my eyes as another contraction comes on. Paige said not to yell, "reserve your energy" so instead I close my eyes, and go into my own world. "that really fucking hurt" I say when it's all over. I say it every time, but it's true. Words could not explain the pain I felt. I tell myself I'm in transition, just another hour. I still request an epidural. I am so disappointed in myself. After that I feel nothing. My legs are numb, they weren't like this the first time. I worry it's too much and ask the nurse to turn the epidural down. She attempts to tell me no. I was told no with Nora and will not be told no again. She turns it down a bit, and then again as she lets me know I will be ready to push soon. I request a mirror. I want to both see and feel what is happening. As we are waiting I tell Michelle I am pooping or maybe it's the baby. It's poop, I eventually declare, and Sara is the one who cleans it up for me. Sara is really starting to impress me. My husband is on skype now, ready to watch as his first son comes into the world.

The midwife spreads my legs and says "there he is". It was the baby after all, and maybe some poop too. He is crowning already. Later I will think how amazing my body is to have started pushing without me but for now I am told to push and I do. I tell myself not to push too hard, slow and steady. I don't want stitches this time. Two contractions, 6 pushes, and his head is out. I tried, I think. The midwife tells me to stop pushing. "I'm not" I say back to her and she continues to yell at me to stop. I can't remember what I am supposed to do to stop. I try and remember Paige saying it. I hear her tell me if the midwife says to not push, I should listen. I put my chin on my chest, or should I have lift it up? I don't care, I am exhausted and I can not feel what my body is doing. I am failing him already. I see the midwife is trying to suction his mouth out. He is sunny side up. "Never mind!" she yells at me as my son slides out into her arms. Six pushes was all it took, and there his is, being held up for his dad to see, and then laid onto my chest.

He looks just like his sister. I am in awe of him. Once enough time has passed the midwife asks who will cut the cord. "I will" I say. I want to be the one to sever our physical connection. All the pain, all the struggle has brought us to this place. I look at my son, and picture the man he will be one day. Stronger, I think for having be brought into this world surrounded by women, mothers. All of them having felt the pain, of childbirth, the struggle of endless shame and constant disappointments, the poop and the failures. It's all a part of motherhood. I think of his father, how much he would have loved to be here. How he only missed it by a week. This is our legacy. This is the mark we will leave on the world. When are bodies are long gone, a piece of us will live on in this tiny little boy and his sister. This was the best idea I have ever had.

 
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LJ Idol: introduction   
06:48pm 10/11/2016
  Sometimes I think back to who I used to be. The teenaged girl who started to journal, the one with the bright green hair. I think back to my first tattoo and how I was sure I would be coverd head to toe in a few more years. Back when I switched to live journal I was just starting college. I was a perfomance theater major who often passed out on friend's floors or maybe a random guy's bed just a few hours before I went off to class. After that it was work, maybe a night of karaoke, and then back to passing out for a few hours before school. Maybe on a calm night, I'd spend a few hours writing. That was my me time. That was my art. It may seem crazy now, but I loved my life. I never doubted myself, never wondered who my friends were or if I would be able to pay my $75 car payment or $30 prepaid cell phone bill. Life was simple then. I was a free spirit, vegetarian who always had somewhere to be or something to do. Now, I don't even know who I am.

I don't know what happened, somewhere between meeting my husband, starting to eat meat again and totaling my run down sports car, I became someone I barely recognize. I have traded sleeping on friend's floors to a king size bed in 3 bedroom house. I complain now that my tiny hatchback isn't big enough to rear face my kids to the max, and I need a minivan. I have forgotten how to meditate which is unfortunate because I am never relaxed. Most days I am just a little depressed. Maybe I am a bit disappointed that I lost sight of that girl with the green hair. I'd be happier with more tattoos and less square footage, I think. I can't help but regret that the two laughing children playing in my bedroom floor have kept me away from the theater for years. Don't get me wrong. I know I am lucky. I have much more than I ever expected to have back then. I have so much more, but I need so much more too. Nothing ever feels like enough as I try and fill the void in my life with stuff. The baby boy crying to my left because he needs to be held and the toddler girl to my right pretending to type "just like you" are my world. I wouldn't trade them for anything, but I need so much more than them. I need to write.
 
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The real LJ idol   
02:19pm 02/11/2016
  I got an Email the other day that there is a new seaons of the real LJ idol. I miss writing so here I am. Declaring that I will try to actually keep up with it this year. I don't even know how to use the newest format of live journal. Oh well. Wish me luck!  
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LJ idol week 3-In Another Castle    
06:20pm 28/03/2014
  It's midnight, and I am laying in bed staring at my computer screen. A couple of months ago this seemed like a great idea. "I want to be a Realtor" I stated on facebook and then suddenly I was signed up for a course paid for by my rich grandpa. Now, here I am, exhausted, and trying to get this section done. I thought this would be fun. I thought this would be easy, but it's not. I'm skimming a section on title laws. Something about how property is passed down from one person to another. Do I really need to know what it's called when property passed down to a surviving heir if you don't have a will? I don't think so, but I'm trying to memorize it anyway. I should have done this two years ago, I keep thinking. Two years ago I could have done this. Two years ago, I was a newly wed. I had just moved into my new house, and I loved it. This year, I'm a new mom. I've had my body stretched to it limits then pushed a tiny person out of my vagina. I've been through months and months of sleepless nights, doing it by myself half the time because Zack is always away. This year, my floors are bubbling and the quarter round needs to nailed back down.

This exact moment, my sweet six month old little girl sleeps next to me. She's stirring though. She always wakes up around this time, and I'm worried I won't get to finish my quiz before she wakes. When my husband was home I would lock myself in my room for half an hour each night. Back then, I was making progress. Since he's left I've finished only one quiz. I'd hoped to be done by mid April. I've been working on this for two months. It isn't going to happen. I hear a cry and look over to see that Nora has woke up. I sigh and arrange my computer so I can read it behind her as I lay on my side to nurse. I thought I'd be done with nursing by now. Six months was my goal, and I reached it, but I can tell she's not ready. I reluctantly keep going hoping one day she won't need me so much. Breast feeding is draining, and painful, don't let anyone tell you it's not, but it's what's best for her. Nora takes her left hand and begins squeezing the skin of my breasts in her little fist. Her nails need clipped, and with each squeeze she leaves a scratch. I turn my focus back to my class, reaching over her tiny bald head to click to the next section. Something boring about emanate domain.

I feel a sharp bite on my nipple, and then a pop. I scream out in pain, and then she screams out too. She's teething, I remind myself as I carry her into her bedroom. She didn't mean to hurt me. I sit down in the rocking chair. This should calm her down, maybe she will sleep in her crib for a bit. I latch her on to the right side and pick up a book. "and then, all of a sudden, winnie-the-pooh stopped again", I began to read from where we left off. Three more pages and I feel another pop. She's asleep now with her face buried in my breasts. I rock her for a moment longer, and then stand up. I lay my sweet sleeping baby down in her crib and she begins to cry. "sh" I tell her, "mommy's here". My mind goes back to my class, I'm sure it's timed out by now. I turn on her monitor, her projector and her lullabies, and stick a pacifier into her mouth.

She's asleep now, thank god. I don't rush back to my class just yet though. I take a moment to look at this beautiful creature Zack and I made. She's got my round cheeks that dimple when we smile,but the rest of her is all daddy. I never imagined my husband would make such a beautiful little girl. I think of my class again, that damn class I have to finish if I ever want to be a Realtor. I would have been easier two years ago, before I was a mom, before I worked 30 hours a week. Life would have been easier when this house was fresh and new, and I was ready for an adventure. I had no reason to do it two years ago though. I had no one to make a future for. I look down at my husband's clone and think She's the reason I'm doing this. She's a princess and one day I'm going to buy her a castle, but that's going to mean a few late nights, and a few more years in this tiny shack. I look at the clock 1am, she'll be awake again in 2 hours. I'd better get back to my computer, I decide. So I whisper a quote from her favorite book, "You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think". I don't know if I'm talking to her or myself. I can do this though. I can give her the world. Maybe we'll buy her two castles.
 
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08:00pm 27/03/2014
  If you're reading this can you please go vote for me
ASAP? The poll closes soon and I'm tied for the lowest score.

http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/719384.html
 
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LJ idol week 2- The Missing Stair   
11:41pm 22/03/2014
  Daniel and I had met at random. He knew a friend of mine and happened to run into that friend one day when I was tagging along. We hit it off right from the start. He was, and still is one of the smartest men I'd ever met. It helped that he was also an extremely talented artist. I developed a little crush on him almost right away. We began a routine of talking on the phone nearly every night for hours at a time. I'd never connected with anyone the way I did with him. It wasn't this intense burning connection. It was more like a calm comfort. I was sure this was the guy I belonged with. It took a few more months, and a simple joke for us to actually become a couple. We joked that it sucked to be single so we should just date just so we could say we were seeing someone. We decided since it wasn't like we were a real couple that we could see other people.We were a real couple though. He treated me better than any man I've ever met. He told me I was beautiful daily. He adored me, and I adored him. We'd spend hours snuggling and talking. Sometimes I'd look out to find the sun had started to rise, but I didn't care. I lived for spending time with this man. He was perfect. We were the perfect couple.

There came a point when we both acted on are open relationship agreement. He'd gone out with a girl one night, and slept with her. He told me right away. I really didn't care that much. We'd agreed on it after all. We'd never really changed those rules. A month or so later, an ex of mine came to town. He asked if I wanted to get together. I knew right away what he meant and sure enough, a few hours later I found myself laying naked in his hotel room bed watching cat woman over his shoulder as I had the worst sex of my life. I couldn't help but think that it was such a waste to have had bad sex when I had an awesome boyfriend. The next day when we got together I let Daniel know what had happened. He laughed at the details of the bad sex, and shrugged it off. It's funny, but it was that point, not the point where he'd slept with another girl that made it clear to me we weren't going to work out. He didn't care who I had sex with. I didn't care who I had sex with either. I didn't even care if I got to have sex with him, it was just something we did occasionally when we ran out of things to talk about.

Daniel and I dated for several months after that. I knew it would never last, but I kept holding on. We were perfect in every other way. In the eleven months that we dated I don't recall ever having a major argument. I don't recall ever even being mad at him. He made me laugh. He made me feel good about myself. He intrigued me, and educated me. He was amazing. I just could never shake the feeling that something was missing. To this day I don't know if he felt it too or if there was some other reason behind it, but he ended our relationship. It wasn't dramatic, just a simple explanation that it wasn't working out for him. I agreed, and then the next day we were back to being best friends. Nothing really changed for us after that except there wasn't much sex, or cuddling. Eventually I met my husband and Daniel and I stopped talking as often. I guess it became awkward because once I fell in love with Zack that meant things with Daniel were over for good. It's been years now since I've spoken more than a couple of words to him. I miss his friendship dearly. I can't help but wonder if what we had really was the ideal relationship. I wonder if maybe the only thing missing was that we were too perfect. I love my husband more than anything. I know I'm meant to be with him, not Daniel. It's just that I know what's missing with my husband, it's then intense conversations. It's the friendship. Maybe the fact is that there's always going to be something missing in every relationship and we just have to decide what we are willing to give up.
 
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LJ idol week 1- Jayus    
09:38pm 14/03/2014
  My husband is in the Navy. When people hear that most people think "aw, poor you, it must be hard". Why, yes, yes it is, but not because he's away from home a lot. To be honest I enjoy my alone time. Sure, I miss him, but he also drives me crazy if he's home for too long. No, the thing that sucks about having a husband in the navy is the guy has no tact. You see, when stuck on a boat for long periods of time people somehow forget how to be a normal human being. Instead they turn into rude assholes.

My husband is the master of this. Recently, we were attending a super bowl party at church when I heard him say it. He actually said 'shit' in church. Who the hell says shit in church? Once he did it once, it was like a flood gate opened. The cursing continued for the next 30 minutes until I politely suggested we head home because the baby was tired. Or how about a few years back, we'd just met a friend of a friend, and my husband told a racist joke like it was nothing. Did I mention this friend was black and my husband was telling a black joke? Who would that ever be okay? Andre and I are still good friends, but I can't help but cringe at the idea of my husband being around him. It's not just black jokes either, this asshole actually tells Mexican jokes. My mother is half Mexican, I'm 1/4 Mexican, his daughter is 1/8th Mexican. Still, he thinks it's okay to talk about how many Mexicans can fit in a car. All races are fair game when you're a sailor, as are sex, and fart jokes. There's always the classic story about how he had to take a shit in the floor of his office on a bunch of news paper. No subject is off limits. He even likes to tell antidotes about our sex life.

So why do I put up with his shit? For one, he doesn't know any better.The guy comes from a different world where fuck is just an every day word, and everyone enjoys a racist joke. In the world of the US Navy, there is no such thing as too personal of a story. It's a strange place, but it's also a place where men and women work hard to support their family. It's a place where they are sent away for months at a time, working long hours, and being paid pennies for it. My husband makes sacrifices for our daughter and I. He loves us even if does think we are dirty Mexicans. Being married to a man in the Navy is not for the faint at heart, but luckily, I'm not exactly a classy lady.
 
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LJ idol   
09:21am 06/03/2014
  Well, I never post on here anymore, but I miss writing so I'm going to attempt to participate in LJ idol. I'm not sure how it's going to go with me going to school, working 30 hours a week and being a mom, a wife, and just generally awesome, but we'll see.  
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09:37pm 03/01/2014
  I never post here anymore. I just crossed my mind that I should probably give some sort of update, but the truth is my life is pretty dull. I had to be induced after I was a few days over due. My labor went pretty well. I got an epidural after an hour because I'm a wimp, and 3.5 hours later I'd pushed a baby out of my vagina. I went back to work after about 10 days, and went back to working both jobs after about 3 weeks. I really wasn't in that much pain and we needed the money. I don't even know if anyone ever really posts on here anymore, but I figured it was worth noting that I did have a baby, Nora Elizabeth Williams MAciejewski was born on September 18th 2013 at 12:24pm, she was 21 inches long and 8lbs even, and she's pretty cute.

Nora birth

nora pumpkin


Nora Christmas
 
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11:16pm 13/03/2013
  My life is pretty boring right now. Being pregnant sucks. I really am not sure I want to do it again. I pretty much just sleep all day because I have no energy to do anything. That's supposed to be getting better because I'm in my second trimester now, but I don't see it happening. Nothing about my body is familiar at all. I have veins on my legs and boobs. My body is hairy and the hair is dark. I have to shave my legs like every other day as opposed to once a week before. I fart all day long. It's pretty disgusting. Of course I'm happy to be having a baby, but I also wouldn't mind if they accidentally removed my uterus while I was giving birth leaving me unable to suffer through this ever again. We find out the baby's gender on the first. We want to name it Honor if it's a girl but we don't have a boy name yet. So far we've got a list of probably 10 names we both like out of thousands and not one is a name we both like a lot. It'll be a name one person loves and the other just thinks is okay. It's really annoying me to the point that I hope the baby is a girl just so we don't have to agree on a boy name. However, the baby appears to have a cleft chin and Zack's jaw line so it's looking more like a boy.

Zack and I are doing well. We've been going to counselling for a few weeks now. It's pretty awkward, but I guess it's helping. Zack started some college classes a while ago and he should have an associates degree in the next year or year and a half. I keep trying to convince him to let me use his GI bill since his school is being paid for through a different program, but he's still not sure yet. I am working for 3 families right now but one basically fired me. She just didn't like my availability. It sucks because I was making $45 an hour with her. She said she'll still call me sometimes, but I haven't heard from her in weeks. The other family is really nice, but the kids are so full of energy I just can't keep up. They are always going up and down the stairs and I can only do that about 10 times before I feel like I'm going to pass out. It's steady hours though so that's nice. All I do lately is sleep and work. Sometimes we go to the funny bone because someone gets free tickets or we go out to dinner, but nothing really exciting happens. Hopefully summer makes things more interesting.

ultra soundsCollapse )
 
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11:40am 23/01/2013
  OMG I can not wait until our roommate moves out he's a dumbass. Our fridge malfunctioned and water was pouring all over the floor. Zack unplugged the fridge told Adam about the issue then went to start wiping water up off our floor. We have laminate floors and water will ruin them. So while Zack is getting the water off the floor Adam came down, walked around the water and made himself a sandwich. Zack pointed out that he should probably be helping get the water up and so he did help, but he had to be asked. Who does that? I wouldn't ignore water being all over the place at a strangers house much less the place I live. Zack told Adam later he didn't appreciate him making a sandwich when we had an emergency in the house. He said 'well, I was really hungry'. Today Adam tells me 'I still can't believe he's mad at me for making a sandwich' I told him I was with Zack on that, it was pretty rude. He said he didn't know where any towels were so he didn't know how to help. That's such bullshit. I told him it would be like if the roof was leaking on to his bed and he just ignored it and made a sandwich. He told me he'd probably have made a sandwich in that case too. I wanted to tell him he was a dumbass. He said at that point there's nothing you can do. Um, yes you can you clean the fucking water up before it ruins something. We just had someone come test the moisture levels on the floor and we were told had the water sat longer it could have gotten under the laminate and damaged more of the house. The laminate is bubbled up but the house it's self is fine. Adam is just super self centered though and doesn't really care about anything else. He could have at least apologized but he won't even admit he was wrong. I'm so glad he's moving out in a little over a week.

In other news Zack was supposed to have eye surgery today but it was canceled due to low humidity in the room. They are moving it to next week most likely the day before my ultrasound which means he won't be able to come. I'm pretty disappointed about this since this time he'll be able to see a more baby like image and we should be able to hear a heart beat.
 
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04:17pm 21/01/2013
  Yesterday I had a bit of spotting of dark blood throughout the day. I tried not to worry as I was told by other girls due around the same time as me that it's normally not a big deal. By the end of the night though I decided to go to the ER. I had a feeling things were fine but I just wanted to be sure. We got in pretty quickly, probably with in half an hour. We sat in the back watching the lion king for a while then the doctor came in and gave me an ultrasound. He saw a little bubble in the outter ultrasound (I have no idea what this is called) then did a transvaginal one. Not only did he see a baby but there was a heart beat! I couldn't see it because I had to lay still on a table and try and look up at this little screen, but I did see the little dot that was the baby. Zack saw the heart beat though, and then sat there trying not to cry. After the nurse left we kept breathing heavy and saying he was light headed, lol. A few minutes later the circle of life song started playing so I decided our baby's nick name until we know the gender should be simba. I'm really glad we got to see a heart beat. It's helped me with my worrying and now I know for sure the bleeding was nothing to worry about. We've decided now that we've seen a hear beat that it's okay to share the news with everyone. It feels so much more real now.  
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04:17am 04/01/2013
  I'm pregnant! I keep thinking tomorrow I'm going to not be pregnant just because that's when my period is due. I had one positive test before and that didn't last. This one is two tests though. They are much darker than the other ones and it's a lot closer to when my period is due. I can't wait to test again tomorrow afternoon and see if it gets darker.  
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01:22pm 06/03/2012
  Reading another friend's entry reminded me about something that happened while we were in Albuquerque. We kept driving by this place that had a huge sign that said 'palm readings' so I kept saying we should stop in. A day or two after the wedding we were driving by and I insisted we stop and get a reading. When we pulled in there were a bunch of old RVs all over the parking lot with random parts and stuff so we decided that it was probably closed down and went to turn around. These two girls came out and were being a bit creepy watching us. So of course Zack stopped and insisted we ask them about the palm readings because I guess he just felt like we finally got there so we might as well try. The oldest girl said "We don't do palm readings, it's against god" I asked her to repeat herself because she had a thick accent and I didn't understand her at first so when I finally did understand her it was even more awkward. I apologized and we got in the car and left.

What I'm wondering is why they have never bothered to take that sign down or at least spray paint over it or something. We can't have been the only people to ever stop by there looking for a palm reading. Hell, if I thought palm readings were evil I would probably not chose to opening a business or live or whatever it was they were doing in a place that used to be for palm readings. Those two girls were creepier than any psychic I've ever met.
 
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