Singles Scene

For years, I've listened to my single gals as they've described the singles scene. These ladies are truly brave because honestly, it's a bit scary out there. It was scary more than a decade ago and based on things I or my gals have encountered, there are still plenty of weirdos and assholes in this world.

So let's discuss the awkward argument I had with ... what do I call him. My ex has always been PC but as I was reminded this week in glorious fashion, I will soon have two exes. While closing on the house, I was presented with two sheets listing my legal aliases. Several people have told me this doesn't matter but it feels weird. Thanks Kay for your encouragement that third times the charm.

So back to the argument with JS over telling his brother, who is friends with me on Facebook. I really didn't want JS's brother finding out on fb. In the course of this argument, JS asked if I was planning to change my relationship status to "it's complicated," in which I firmly responded, my status is "single." In retelling this story, Becky caught onto a certain detail. 3.5 years ago, I demanded JS pay attention to my life for a week; i.e. my fb status, blog, emails, and voicemails. I knew he wouldn't and to prove my point, I removed my fb relationship status which caused a flurry of concerned messages, but none from him.

This weekend I received a sweet deal on a new Nexus from Verizon and my sales guy, VS, hooked me up. I thought nothing of him coming in on his day off to set-up my account and equipment or when he changed his contact info in my phone. He's my sales guy who helped me separate my contracts from JS the day before.

Well, I've apparently been out of the game way too long because Mich informs me that VS was trying to "get ahead of the curve." I honestly believed there was no way this guy was hitting on me the day after I had been in the store with JS. He was just being nice ... until he asked me to have a drink with him.

Wow! So many other situations make much more sense with this new concept in place. I turned him down, just as I plan to say no to the cute eye doc if the drink conversation comes up again during my follow-up.

These men might be ready but my mind is in a different place at the moment. I'm not mourning, not being respectful, or not ready yet because of JS. That has nothing to do with what's going on on my head. I'm flattered by the offers but at the moment, I'm happy with my relationships as they are.

Favorite Color

More than a dresser

My sister sent me this pic of my former dresser that has finally fallen apart. She doesn't realize that her timing is impeccable because it was an excellent reminder of who I used to be. This dresser has great significance in my life. While my ex was at work one day, I packed my bags and disappeared. It was one of the bravest things I ever did. I left all the furnishings and moved into my sister's new place. A friend allowed me to take furniture from her grandmother's storage unit so I would at least have a bed and dresser, which eventually became N's.

Sometimes people think they understand when I describe rebuilding myself. Some think I changed certain habits, while others think I just reevaluated the course of my life. I've been told several times that you can't change who you are or at least not at the core. Well, I did!

This all came about one day when the guy I was dating asked my opinion concerning home decor. I was completely incapable of answering. The conversation progressed from there, in which it was a rude awakening to discover I could not comfortably form an opinion. There is so much more to this story but suffice to say, this was the critical moment that lead to me finally getting therapy.

Part of the therapy included deciding who I wanted to be, what interests appealed, learning to not be overwhelmed by my options, and becoming confident in my decisions. My first assignment was to decide what color I wanted to paint this dresser which was originally an atrocious yellow color. You can not imagine the hours I spent staring at paint samples or the chilling fear of asking for instructions on how to properly complete this project.

This dresser was the first step in creating the new Melissa. Not only did I strip and sand the paint off the wood, prime it, then paint it the colors I selected, I even bought stenciling supplies and painted purple ivy along the sides. For those from our craft group, you know my comfort level with this, i.e. none. Back then, I completely lacked confidence so it was sheer torture and yet I did it.

My current purple bathroom

This pic was a nice reminder of how my life has evolved. I was nervous about going back to my maiden name because MS is a confident woman while MT struggled so much to discover her identity, but I've realized that's okay. 17 yr old MT liked purple, 21 yr old MC had no clue, and 23 yr old MT decided lilac was her favorite color, in which 35 yr old MS agreed, as evidenced by my insistence on decorating my bathroom, my way.

Though my favorite color may not have changed, the person making the decision has. I have evolved into a different person because there was a point in my life when I lacked the confidence to tell someone what color appealed, much less any other opinion. I truly believed myself incapable of handling anything, though my actions proved me thoroughly capable. I was afraid to ask for guidance, to accomplish anything, or have an opinion because I believed it would validate my own stupidity. Anyone who knows me now would have a hard time believing any of this because that woman does not exist anymore and hasn't for a long time. Though this old dresser has seen its last day, the next phase of my, Melissa T's, life is just beginning.

Renewal and Looking Forward

Life is crazy sometimes.  It can amaze you with it's bountiful wonderfulness, those moments when you realize that there is so much more out there to explore and experience. It can also shock you with it's cruelty, when something robs your ideals and teaches you another lesson.

Certain people in my life are waiting for me to crack under the pressure of my circumstances. They contact me with that hesitancy and curiosity, looking for the fissures that don't exist. I'm not talking about true friends who are truly concerned, that is completely different. Those true friends are the ones who show me how amazing this world can be. In the past month, I have once again discovered and experienced such deep and beautiful love. I have had people call, text, visit, sit in cars, and email me in order to show their love for me.

This situation is so dramatically different from what I experienced fifteen years ago. I'm sad but I have fond memories, rather than pain and hurt. I'm a stronger person, one who knows what I want in my life. And the greatest difference is the amazing people in my life. I was truly alone before, isolated from family and losing my last remaining friends.  Now, I am blessed to have four wonderful best friends who give me so much love and support that this gal could survive anything. But I'm also so fortunate to have all my other remarkable friends who care and comfort as well. 

Life is truly wonderful! Fifteen years ago, I felt the need to rebel against my circumstances and cut off all my hair in retaliation. There was a significance to this act. I kept the pixie cut for more than two years as a reminder of my decisions. Now, I am too respectful of the man who was good to me for the last twelve years to celebrate our current situation, but I feel the need to have a more permanent reminder of who I am, where I've been, what I've overcome, and where I'm going.

My pal, Nancy, and I have had several conversations lately about her tattoo artist and I'm leaning towards getting something to remind me of my recent decisions to live the life I want, to admit my worth, to refuse to ever settle, to recognize my strength, and to accept that I am a loving, warm, and caring person and fuck anyone who thinks differently. This was the big conversation during St. Patty's Day, a renewal of spirit. Mich has already made several suggestions and of course, insists on being here when I get it done. Though at this time I'm leaning towards a suggestion my hair goddess, Erinn, made, I'd love to hear other ideas or suggestions for a tattoo design. Plus, I will finally get my ears pierced. I think Mich is the only one who knows why that's significant because it's based on an asinine statement.

St. Patrick's Day

Becky, Mel, Erin

The sixth annual St. Patrick's Day celebration has been voted the best ever. Somehow this has become our annual day to rehash the first quarter of the new year. I think there were more laughs than concerns this year, though I had to keep reassuring Miss Red Scarf that I am truly okay with my life. I hope she believes me now, especially as I shared how I plan to commemorate what I view as my renewal.

The best part of the annual drink is watching the people around us. Since the temps were quite chilly, the hoochie outfits were minimal though the men wore some questionable outfits. The reason we like JKs for St. Patrick's Day is for the men-in-kilts. Finally some were spotted but at first we thought they were women. Eek! 

Bagpipes

We actually lamented missing high-five guy from our first year because well, the men were behaving for once, so no pics with strange men, but only because we couldn't take a pic of what happened. After more than an hour, it was time to leave when we heard the bagpipes. This is always the highlight of our annual drink! We had been making our way around the bar when the band arrived. I have no idea how it happened but we were included in the drum circle. It was awesome!

Brotherly Love

Since I had some free time this weekend, I decided to tell my siblings about my situation. Several people have made me tear up with their kind words, but my brother, John, wins the award for making me a sobbing mess. As many of you know, the relationship between me and my family members is very dynamic. I left my parents' home at eighteen and never looked back. At the age of thirty-one, I ran away from home and moved 800 miles away. There is always some massive DRAMA! in my family and for the sake of self-preservation, I couldn't deal with it anymore. My refusal to participate in the carousel of horror caused a great many conflicts between me and my family, which still impact our relationships today.

So back to my brother, John, who I have been slowly reconnecting with the past few years. In response to my news, John made the following remarks. He told me that no matter what happens in this life, that I am his big sister and he has always admired me. Though he hated our years of separation, he always knew that I loved him. He couldn't ever make-up for the pain he caused, but that he would do anything to help me. That I do not realize the impact I've had on his life. His fondest memories are of all the times I took him to college sporting events because that was our thing and I seemed to enjoy having my kid brother around. Those memories have helped him in keeping focused on what's important; having that connection with family. He said I was there when he stumbled and fell, so he wanted to help me through my rough times. He wanted me to know that he always looked up to me because I was always the one who seemed so strong and to know what I was doing. After I had stumbled, I rebuilt my life and became the person I wanted to be rather than the one my circumstances dictated. I was the example he wanted to follow because he was so impressed with me.

After all the years of fighting to save my baby brother, these words were the thing to make me break. I have documented our struggles from my letter on his 25th birthday to my melancholy over lost time with him to my fears of the call and my need for self-preservation. To have him say these words to me, after all the years of drug-induced anger and hate-filled words, it was extremely emotional. To hear him say that he admires me was a blessing.

The baby brother who trailed after me, sought my advice about girls, and asked me to cheer at his sporting events is long gone and has been since the day he stole my car and my money. A horrible person replaced him the first night he was arrested and I hung up on him when he used his one phone call to contact me. The pathetic creature who sat stonily through the intervention and didn't care that he was destroying the family forced me to decide that I could not watch his death. I stuck to my rules during the intervention and have allowed John back in my life as he struggles with staying clean. And I am very proud of the man I spoke with today.

Winter's Edge

Though we didn't have the predicted more than six inches on Wednesday, it was still slick and nasty outside. This bad weather led Matt to cancel our lunch plans and I was offered the chance to take some vacation. Obviously, I took the vacation.

This weather forces me to realize tmany angles to it, but it seems the corner where my patio lies gets slammed with snow, wind, and debris. If you've ever wondered what 40 mph winds can do with snow, check out the pic. It looked like someone had taken a paint gun to my back door. Of course, Bartle had to be in the pic!

For those who may not have heard, Bartle is the man of the house. The house which will legally belong to me in less than five days. Thank you to everyone for their compassion and love, and for the hours of listening to me as I make my way through this situation.

And don't believe I'll be sitting around lonely. Plans for the weekend include a night out with Becky and Mandy, possibility of seeing the Veronica Mars movie, a Skype call with Cheryl, and the annual St. Patty's Day ritual with the gals. This of course is all contingent on my antibiotics kicking in.

I've also been listening to a lot of music the past few weeks. Part of this is due to the fact that there was a disagreement over who owned which CDs so I'm backing up my music collection. Lots of Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Godsmack, Soundgarden, and Foo Fighters are being played. Katy Perry, Maroon 5 (who I used to find annoying), Imagine Dragons, and John Newman's Love Me Again is getting a lot of play on my Pandora account. Then there is my obsessive playing of Elky Summers (gals, Hello, How Are You Doing rips at me every time), Dave Matthews Band, and someone's recommendation of Van Morrison's Moondance.

It's been a wild month and promises to get crazier! But only in the best of ways.

My Guy Steve

Okay this is another example of how amazing people can be and how we can touch each other's lives.

My guy, Steve, has been the force behind my skincare treatments but he outdid himself this week. My hair goddess, Erinn, highly recommended him years ago and on my first visit, he insulted me by stating that my skin, primarily my face, was a culmination of the perfect storm. Yet I found myself going back because the man knows his stuff.

Over the past few years, one of the issues has not improved but has gotten worse so I was having more frequent salon treatments. Steve was insistent that I have medical tests done to see if there was an underlying cause and in the meantime, he insisted on only charging me for every other visit.

On his recommendation, I visited a dermatologist who developed a treatment plan for me but insurance won't cover it nor will they cover the hormone and enzyme suppression prescription that I'm currently taking for this. So at my Wednesday appointment, I explained to Steve the full reason why I could not afford the dermatologist treatment at this time.

Steve and I have all kinds of personal conversations during these sessions. He knows about my career, my travels, and the house. We commiserate about his ailing dog, his side business and volunteer work. As we talked this week, I mentioned needing a handyman. He had an immediate recommendation and offered to check on a second candidate as well for me. I was touched by his offer to help.

When I pulled out my credit card to pay, he refused to accept it. He hugged me and said I needed to accept help sometimes. He hugged me again and said that I was to allow him to pamper me.

So if any men or women need salon level skincare, I would highly recommend my guy, Steve, who of course, made me cry with that last statement. I have a hard time asking for help, much less accepting it, but Steve's comments and actions had an impact on me. Once again, I'm reminded how lucky I am to have such a wonderful person in my life.

Another Round of Shock Treatment

Prepare yourselves for a rambling post relating to odd but pleasantly shocking behavior.

One of our most curmudgeonly patrons informed me today that "you look different, you look really nice, which is an improvement." Considering his typical comments, this really was an extremely nice compliment.

I have always thought Sarai was insightful and notices details that others overlook, so I was not shocked when she contacted me this weekend with an extremely personal question. What did shock me were her views on the situation. Sarai perfectly described my situation and has apparently seen the truth of it for a while. Truly, I am impressed!

If you've ever questioned who among your colleagues would be willing to stab you, I actually know the answer. First off, thanks to both Kay S. and Becky who went above and beyond when I had a reaction to the allergy shot. You know I hate asking for help and feeling that vulnerable, but you both put me at ease. Because of the reaction, I had to send an email to my colleagues letting them know where I keep my EpiPen in case I went into shock. Though it was an informational email, the one colleague who never responds said, "No problem. Glad to help."

Miss Red Scarf and I saw Elky Summers perform this weekend. Elky is a good band for me at the moment. Angsty girl band performing songs about impotence, lost loves, death, and craziness seem fitting. And Miss Red Scarf, I listened to "Who's Driving Baby" this morning and have decided I really do like how the song teases with a slow build-up before crashing into the heavy beat, plus Kay G. sounds sultry when drawing out some of the lyrics. Just saying! Which is fitting considering that I felt the need to remark that she looked gorgeous the other night. Her secret: snuggling with the man she loves. I think my brain glitched for a moment when she said it. Wild rocker gal discussing snuggling, in detail! Thankfully, the band's new song maintains a grungy sound, so everything is okay with the world as long as there are no love ballads in the future.

And speaking of hitting on women. A mark of a true friend is knowing that an incident is about to spark a rumor so you willingly step into the breach. If anyone hears about me and the other woman. Yes, she's real and a wonderful friend.