well, hell.

WORST. BLOGGER. EVER.

Okay, so now that's out of the way. Ya'll, a LOT of shit has gone down since the last time I wrote, so I'll just try to condense it.

Basically? I'm going through a divorce. Those who know me well know that my marriage was far from perfect. Especially in the last couple years. I tried my best to make things work. Or did I? Honestly, half the time, I felt like it didn't matter how hard I tried...nothing was going to save that sinking ship. And I stayed much longer than I should. But everyone has their breaking point. Mine just took a long time to reach.

So, I left. And I'm telling you, it was the hardest, scariest decision I've ever made. Being a child of divorce made me very, very hesitant to put my own child through it. But, you know, I decided that even though it was going to be a difficult, painful, and decidedly rough road...Reece deserved more. Damnit, I deserved more. And frankly, Tony deserved more. He wasn't happy. Neither was I.

I won't get into the sordid details, but it's been about 6 weeks since I left and moved in with my dad and stepmom. The first week? Hellish. I ended up in the hospital the first night I was back because I was having such a severe anxiety attack. My blood pressure was 201/140. They thought I might have a stroke. I felt cold. Empty. It was like mourning a death, and I guess in a way? It was. The death of a relationship, and the end of a 5 1/2 year relationship. Good or bad, it was a large chunk of my life that I can never get back.

I was weak. But every day, I felt a little bit better. Tony had Reece for the first week we were separated, and it was the first time EVER that I had been away from my son for more than 2 days. I felt like my heart was being ripped out. But really, I think having that first week to myself helped. I was able to grieve, to cry, to really start getting over things. My family rallied around me. My friends, God bless them, were so happy to have me back home. They told me they were proud of me, for making the right decision for myself and for Reece. And after a little while, I started feeling proud of myself, too.

I have come a LONG way in 6 weeks. I still have rough patches. And things with Tony aren't always easy and peaceful. I think he's having a really hard time with the reality of the situation right now, while I had the really hard time at the beginning. But I know in the long run, we'll both be much happier people. I do know I will be.

In the last week, I met someone. I know it's soon. But it feels right, and I'm not fighting it. He's not a rebound. He's not just someone to make me feel less lonely. He's helping me heal, but that's not why I adore him. I'm sure there will be many posts about him to come. And more posts about everything else that's going on. But this post is about the loss of an old life, and the start of a new one.

And damn, I'm hopeful. I haven't felt that way in a very, very long time.

click click click.

One of my vices is biting my nails. Like, since I was 6, I have always bitten my nails. It's a terrible habit but I do it without even thinking. I have never gotten a manicure or anything like that because I'm so ashamed of my nails. Or at least I was.

I guess the one good thing that came out of having this bitchy toothache problem is I couldn't bite my nails because it hurt my jaw. It's been about 3 weeks and I haven't bitten my nails once, and I haven't even thought about it. I just realized my nails are longer than they have EVER been and when I drum my fingers on a hard surface, it makes that clickity noise! Is that weird to be excited about? Anyways they look so pretty, and I'm going to treat myself to a manicure. I'm stoked.

the dentist, and other stories.

I know, I know, I'm a bad blogger.

I blame my hiatus on this bitch of a tooth of mine that is currently outstaying it's welcome in the back of my upper jaw. See, I had a filling fall out. I procrastinated (my specialty) because I am fucking terrified of dentists. I have a LOW tolerance for pain and a HIGH tolerance for pain medicine, which is a crappy roll of the dice.

Sidenote: Did you know that redhaired people generally have a higher tolerance for pain medicine and/or anesthesia? It's true. I researched it after my hellish experience with my c-section. The epidural didn't take, the pain meds didn't work, and when they did the emergency c-section, the anesthesia DIDN'T WORK so I felt every. single. thing. Let that simmer in your brain for awhile.

Anyways. So yeah, when I go to the dentist, it doesn't matter what they give me, I feel what they're doing and it SUCKS. Badly. So yes, I should have gone right when the filling fell out, but I'm like a victim of PTSD. Or something. So, the tooth got infected. Which landed me in the ER because one side of my face was swollen up like Elephant Man, and I was running fever, etc. Turns out it developed into cellulitis of the face. So I have to let this crap ass antibiotic run it's course before I can actually have this tooth removed because as long as there is an infection, the dentist won't pull it. I'm in a lot of pain.

Turns out I'm a dumbass!

my not so guilty pleasure.

Do you watch Jeopardy?

Like, really watch it? Not just watch Final Jeopardy while you're waiting for the 5 o'clock news, but like obsessively record it every day and anxiously look forward to being able to watch it with your husband when your kiddo finally decided to go to sleep?

*raises hand* I do. It's become a daily tradition, watching it together and seeing who gets the most answers right (he typically wins, though I do sometimes give him a run for his money). We also get a kick out of how passive aggressive Alex Trebek is to the contestants who are losing, or who answer an obviously easy question with a really stupid answer. We laugh at the background stories of the contestants who are annoying, and read through the lines of their impressively worded job titles.

Literary sales liason = You work at Barnes and Noble, don't be trying to hide behind that, crazy cat lady with the awful peach colored sweater on.

We've been watching it daily for probably 3 years now, and my trivia knowledge has definitely improved, and I really do like the fact I learn something (or many somethings) new every day. Yes, I'm a nerd. But I'm okay with it.

monday list

Things That Annoy Me Lately

1. The fact that I live 4 1/2 hours from my friends and family. It has really, really, really started to bother me.

2. The fact that I am definitely addicted to chocolates, a big shift in what junk food I used to be addicted to: chips and crackers. It's making me rethink my self identity.

3. This blog. I spent like, about 4 hours too many gawking with my mouth open at this crazy lady's rants on everything from IVF to 'teh gays' to birth control to church nurseries. If it's out there, she probably hates it. And is proud to tell you so. Click at your own risk, it's addictively soul crushing.

4. The fact that I have no chocolate. (see number 2)

a week of nothing.

This week has been rather uneventful. I haven't really been feeling all too well- I have a migraine disorder, and so I get them quite often, but lately it's been pretty much every single morning, I wake up with a killer headache. Sometimes it goes away by dinnertime, sometimes not at all. And it drains me. It's hard to fuction when they get this bad. My doctor wants me to see a neurologist, but to be perfectly honest, I'm scared to death that they'll find something that's... well, not good. I've had headaches my entire life, but only in the past 2 years have they really amped up and turned into migraines, and then to where I'm getting them almost daily. It really puts a damper on everything.

fashion?

Secret: I'm a big fan of awards shows. Not only am I obsessed with movies, but any excuse to judge celebrities, I'm on board. Plus, I like the pre-show show. The dresses, child, to be more exact. It's really unlike me to enjoy such prissyness, considering I don't own a pair of flats, much less a pair of heels, much less a BALL GOWN, but hey. Whatever.

So, I was really looking forward to the Golden Globes this past Sunday. Without further ado, here are my (much anticipated, I'm sure) picks for best, and worst dressed.

BEST:

Olivia Wilde, in Marchesa. Girlfriend KILLED it. And she wasn't even nominated! But hey, if I had access to that sparkly number, I'd be all up on it. I told you I was a sucker for glitter. THAT is how you dress for an awards show. I'd wear that dress to my wedding, brown or not.

Worst:

Angelina Jolie, in Versace. I know, I know. This was mostly loved by critics, and I get it. It's fucking Angelina Jolie. She's got the face, the figure, the sainthood going on. But sorry, this dress did not do it for me. And her hair looks like she barely combed it. Being the most beautiful woman alive does not give you license to dress like this. But she does, and people love it, so she's gonna do it. She's like, fuck you, I'm Angelina. We get it. I just don't get it. If that makes sense.