I'm itchy.

explosion of worry.

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 17:58:41 GMT

Haven't posted an entry in quite a while, it seems.
Cliff's birthday celebration last Saturday night [his 25th birthday was last Sunday] at the bar was fantastic, very enjoyable, right up until the end. We called my mom, our designated driver, to come pick us up. We waited... and waited. We finally ordered dessert, by that point, to go, assuming that at any moment mom would arrive, Lily asleep in the backseat, and we'd just take it home. We ate the bread pudding cold [we'd asked them not to heat it up to save time] while sitting at the bar. By now Cliff was calling my mom to see what was taking her so long, with no answer. We're both getting nervous. It's a half hour drive to the bar from our house, at this point it'd been about forty-five minutes. Cliff called traffic to find out if there were any wrecks on the bridge that might have slowed the trip. An hour and a half after she should have arrived, with twenty calls made to her with no answer, calls made to the police in all of the surrounding towns to find out if a tan Toyota corolla had been in an accident, we were both made of sheer panic. Finally, Cliff asked the local police if they'd go check to see if they were still at home. Both of us were imagining the worst. The cops finally called back, mom was asleep in the car in our driveway with Lily - she'd gone back inside to get Lily a milk cup and had locked herself out, her purse inside.
Why didn't she bother to go to a neighbor's house to borrow a phone so that she could call us and let us know we'd need a cab home instead of waiting in the car in forty degree weather, leaving us stranded and worried? Good question. No idea. Cliff and I were both so worried at this point that we actually cried with relief. Lily slept in our bed that night.

On a more positive note, I know that I've mentioned that Cliff and I have the best sex of my entire life [and as he was a virgin before-hand, I think that I can rightfully assume that it's the best of his as well], to the degree that, I can honestly say that I've literally come through the mattress on several occasions. I'm not sure how many, and hadn't even thought it possible until the day we moved into this house the day after such an explosive night. The underside of the mattress was drenched with a circle at least twelve inches around. As impressive as it is to come through a mattress, even more impressive is that it's a pillow-tip mattress, with a comforter and towel on top. Prior to him I was only an orgasm girl, never a literal come. He is my sex god. The first time he made me come, though I will admit I was high and drunk, it was so surprising and new that I literally felt like I experienced something heavenly, like I was told the meaning of life. I cried with sheer joy, though as soon as the multiple orgasms faded I could no longer remember the meaning of life that I'd just been told. I've never heard such messages since, but that certainly isn't due to a decrease in his performance.

From Dave.

momoflily@gmail.com — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 19:04:39 GMT

Unedited. Cause it's funnier that way, and I have the flu, so I couldn't care about that sort of thing right now anyway.

I know you dont give a fuck im sure. Ive just been thinking that the reason our marriage failed is that you werent there for 6 months. I remember begging you on several occassions to be my wife. You never were. I tried i really did and this whole time ive been thinking that i somehow had failed you. I didnt. I was always there for you and i was loyal to you. And you hate me. Well fine you can get rid of all my things and forget all about me. And you may be asking yourself why am i messaging you this after all this time...the answer is simple im dieing and ive had a really bad fucking day. Im tired of being everyones doormat. This is the truth i always thought that i had somehow failed you when in fact youre the one that failed me. Oh now you are living the good life. Just consider yourself lucky i know that i could never give you what you have now. So there you go now that i got that off my chest continue hating me. Its what youre good at.

vacation

momoflily@gmail.com — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 13:10:55 GMT

It was a seven hour drive to the Smokey Mountains. The drive was gorgeous, the mountains even more so. We hiked two trails, a five mile and a six mile hike. The shorter hike involved a three hour long car ride through a scenic loop that was so damn beautiful we depleted our resources for taking pictures during our first trip, made a second trip with my mom and sister and the baby the following day, and took more pictures. This is the loop where I saw a half-dozen fearless deer, right by the side of the road, grazing happily, giving absolutely no thought to the cars driving by at five miles an hour or the flashing of the cameras. In addition to deer, we saw two grown bears, one of which with three bear cubs. [These are black bears, by the way.] A beautiful thing. The bears were within touching distance, munching on tall grass.
The trails themselves were worn from use, easy and wide at first, the climb and distance being the challenge, the scenery was the reward.
The drive from the Smokey Mountains was longer, fifteen hours. After the first couple of hours, driving through the national park, the drive quickly became boring, long. We began to long for flat land, primarily for the car's sake. Our transmission did not like the mountains.
It's so damn hot in Florida. Cliff taught me how to swim. Lily's interest in the pool seemed to come from the enjoyment of soft balls and drinking pool water.
We smoked pot with Jason, Cliff's brother. All of the hiking, running and swimming couldn't compete with the mega-munching I did those few days. I got down to 183 lbs on that trip, and up to 195 very shortly after that. I left at 188. I'm back down to 192. A day at a time.

a day in my food diary.

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 07 May 2009 15:21:08 GMT

Most of you won't give a crap, but my eating habits have changed considerably since Lily was born. Even while pregnant I frequently ate pizza, at a buffet, eating no less than half of a large, plus dessert, including several cinnamon rolls, a brownie, etc. plus a few sodas. That's one meal out of my typical day then. I ate large portions of meat, never ate whole grains, fully believed that margarine was a healthier alternative to butter and/or olive oil. I rarely ate vegetables unless it was covered in margarine and/or cheese. When I "dieted" before, I ate from a box, the highly processed, low-calorie dinners with the labels of "Healthy Choice" and "Smart Ones" or "Light" anything.
Then Lily was born, and I realized.. this isn't healthy. Lower in calories may help you lose weight, but it doesn't promote health as a whole. I want her to be healthy, and this is how much my diet has changed. Yesterday's food diary, a typical example of my daily food and exercise:

Breakfast:
strawberry "cheesecake" bagel
[two mini 100% whole wheat bagels, two tablespoons organic creamcheese, three strawberries, sliced]

Lunch:
one an a half cups vegan, homemade chili
two slices Ezekiel 4:9 bread, toasted

Dinner:
roasted vegetable mix:
6 spears asparagus, half an onion, half a red bell pepper, half cup baby carrots, one and a half cups Portobello mushrooms, half cup zucchini

a third cup of toasted quinoa [then boiled in mushroom stock]

Snacks:

one orange, one apple

Fluids:
one and a half cup coffee, 70 ounces of water

Exercise:
Ran two miles at an average pace of 4.9 mph. [When I started running, my average pace was 3.8 mph.] Half an hour of upper body strength training. Fifty sit-ups.

best sex.

momoflily@gmail.com — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 14:04:36 GMT

Yesterday Cliff and I had a random three hour long sex session involving several positions, and a location in which we've never done it: downstairs, in the living room. We did it on the couch and in the floor. We were both buzzed enough that we tuned out the hard wood beneath us. I lost count of my orgasms.
Fifteen minutes of sex a few times a week, snuck in during baby naps or when mom is watching the baby is generally all we accomplish. These are brought on by circumstance, taking advantage of what we both know is our opportunity to do it, not any necessary desire at that particular moment. Not that it isn't easy to work-up some desire, it's generally just that, though, it's a "the baby's asleep, hurry up, strip."
We're still very much in love and overly aroused by one another, though. Every day there's at least two occasions that a kiss that was intended to simply be that gets us worked up to the point that we're both whining that we can't finish what we accidentally started. It's very, very rare that we can have the type of sex that everyone wants: random, organic, lasting as long as the body can last with as much noise as one desires to make. It was a beautiful thing, and it easily ranks as our best sex session, ever.
Oh, Zack and Miri Make a Porno is a fantastic movie.

I'm officially under 200 lbs, again. Over 50 lbs lost since Cliff moved in. Yay!

stolen from Em-lee.

momoflily@gmail.com — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 15:32:17 GMT

Go to Wikipedia. Hit "random". The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
Go to Quotations Page and select "random quotations". The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.
Go to Flickr and click on "explore the last seven days". Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
Use a photo editor to put it all together.

Abswurmbachite, by the way, is a copper manganese silicate mineral.

senile.

momoflily@gmail.com — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 13:56:15 GMT

Last night the Camden Police Department [Camden, AR] called my mother to say that they picked up my grandparents on the side of the road. They had a flat tire which they had been driving on for so long that their rim had bent. Their spare was also flat. The officer stopped to help them change it and add air to their spare when she realized that they didn't know where they were and had no idea how they got there. Camden, AR is five hours from Marion, AR, where my grandparents live. We knew my grandma was in a perpetual state of confusion/delusion/crazy, but had thought that my grandpa was pretty lucid. He was quite stubborn with the officer, insisting that he was still in Marion.
Cliff and my cousin Monica went to pick them up last night, stayed the night with them in a hotel. They're getting a new tire now.

Oh, and at some point my grandpa pooped his pants.

short update

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 22:26:42 GMT

In less than a month Cliff and I will be running our first 5k. Another at the end of the summer. Our first 10k in October. In December we're running a half-marathon. Next December we're running the full marathon. Yay.

My lawyer has put the publication in the newspaper. It should be less than a month before I'm divorced. I hope.

I have three more pounds to lose before I'll be under 200 lbs again, six more pounds before I'll weight fifty less than prior to getting pregnant, eight more pounds before I'll weigh 100 lbs less than I was at my largest.

Cliff's brother, Jason, and a friend from Chicago are coming to visit in early May. We're going to the Beale Street Music Festival.

library

momoflily@gmail.com — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:29:59 GMT

We moved to a house in Memphis. It's drafty. Fucking cold. Lily enjoys climbing the stairs. Making us all nervous as hell. So, we have to block off both staircases at the top and bottom, depending on where she is. We purchased an electric heater for Lily's room.
Almost immediately after moving we went to the Memphis City Library and got a library card. Nerds, we are.
We're almost entirely done unpacking. Still have a box or two here and there. A couple for the bathrooms, primarily. Maybe one for our bedroom. Mom has... almost all of hers left.

My elliptical was delivered. Cliff put it together for me. I've used it every day since we've had it, except yesterday. I passed out early, slept nearly ten hours last night. Can't say that I feel entirely well rested, though.
We've begun digging up the sod in the backyard for our vegetable garden.
My grandpa hired Cliff to paint his shed a bright barn red, he actually called him my husband.

I've been a vegetarian and a non-smoker for a month now. And officially lost forty pounds since Cliff moved in last June. In the remaining four months until the anniversary of his move across the country to live with me, I plan to lose an additional twenty-five pounds, putting me just under what I was when I married Dave. For the next year, I plan to lose the remaining forty-five pounds to reach my goal weight.

I'm hungry.

a few pictures

momoflily@gmail.com — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 17:49:56 GMT

A couple of Lily, because I'm a proud mama. Obviously the first is from Halloween time. Her other grandma, Cliff's mom, sent the shirt.

My engagement ring. A half karat in diamonds. Three diamonds in the center, tiny diamonds along the band. 14 karat white gold.

My newest tattoo, starting at my ankle, going up to my calf. The first of three tree tattoos that will go around my ankle. The others will be this tree as well, but in different seasons. One in mid-summer, fully blossomed and green. The last full of vibrant colors, half fallen to the ground. After my ankle is surrounded in trees, I'm moving up to birds flying over head, somewhere on the leg will be a lily. I'll have quite the leg by the time I'm done. My right leg will remain naked.
It hurt like a son of a bitch closest to the bottom and the front, near the bone. Towards the middle it almost tickled. My other foot fell so fucking asleep that by the end it was changing color. I felt nauseated by the effect. My right foot being so asleep bothered me more than the tattooing by the end. I'm assuming it was from the odd position that I had to hold for over an hour.
Cliff has a job interview at UPS as we speak.
In less than two weeks we're moving to Memphis to live in a house twice the size of our apartment. Five bedrooms and an office space, two and a half baths. Claw feet on the tubs. A covered patio, fenced in back yard. Two fire places. A basement and an attic. A kitchen four times the size of our current one. A mud room to walk through when coming in from the back yard, which then immediately leads into the kitchen, awesome for groceries. It's.. gorgeous. And everything we've wanted. And all this comes with the price tag of.... $50 less than we're paying now per month. And in the best school district, and one of the best neighborhoods in Memphis. Insane. It hadn't been on the market for long. It was entirely coincidental that we found it at the right time. Mom had been shopping to buy a house in Marion, and had been approved, but had gotten nervous about investing all of her money in a home and having no cushion. She then called around in Memphis, looking for a four-bedroom apartment, thinking that she'd still be moving closer to her parents [her initial reason for moving], gain an extra bedroom, and be closer to work as well. [If we lived in Marion, we'd be even further from her job.] And the guy she called first said that all of his apartments were full, but he did have two houses for rent that just became available. We went to look at them an hour later. We filled out an application immediately.
On the dieting front, I lost nearly six pounds this week. Not a record weight loss for me, but significant. I'm quite eager to be under 200 lbs again. At 210, it's approaching quickly.

momoflily@gmail.com — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 01:41:09 GMT

I've upped my exercise and renewed my membership to myfooddiary.com in my efforts to control the crazy increase in appetite that was stimulated when I quit smoking. I gained several pounds in the first few days after quitting, and have subsequently lost those few pounds and remotivated me to spend regular time at the gym. I've spent my time on the elliptical reading, making a much deeper dent in the book I've been reading. Before, I'd been bringing magazines, only to find that if there weren't enough interesting articles, that I'd get very bored mid-workout, and it'd be very difficult to finish, and sometimes I wouldn't. With a book, I often find that I don't even look to see how long I've been on, and when the machine beeps to tell me that the 45 minutes has passed, I'm mid-paragraph and mid-chapter, and I wish I'd increased the time to a full hour. The 45 minutes is already an increase due to the day before, having only 40 minutes and encountering this issue.
Cliff has enrolled in an online college. He's going to be a Physics teacher, high-school level. After I get my tax refund, I'll be paying UCA back half of what I owe them and will be setting up a payment plan for the rest. I then will be able to get my transcript and go back to school. I believe I'm also going to enroll in the online program with Western Governor's University and become a high-school teacher, I'll be going for math, though, not science.

Here's the dress I'm currently interested in as a potential wedding dress:

The print is a flower/tree design. Our wedding will be about three to four years from now, which will give me the necessary amount of time to lose the weight required to fit in their largest size - a junior's thirteen. [I do prefer Juniors sizes when I'm small enough to wear them. I'm short, with Juniors I don't have the issue of "this was supposed to be knee-length? it comes to my ankles." Even in petite sizes I have issues with having to hem. I'll still be taking the dress to a tailor to insure the best fit. A splurge I've never before given myself, even for my previous wedding day outfit [which cost less than $50, including shoes.].

Tomorrow or Tuesday I'll be getting a tattoo with Cliff. He's getting a scarlet letter A on his chest [atheist, by the way]. I'm getting a tree on my left ankle. Pictures to come.

improved, i think.

momoflily@gmail.com — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 03:24:33 GMT

I made a list of things I thought would make an "ideal" me. I noticed that when making the list I only included things that were not yet achieved, some that I didn't even think were goals. For example, vegetarianism. I've toyed with the idea several times, for a variety of reasons, including health, environment, animal cruelty, etc. However, I've never attempted to do more than eat less meat. I've cut back on the meat I eat considerably in the last several months, particularly sea-food, though I've never eaten much sea-food, after learning of just how much the fish population is over-fished. At first when I did eat fish, I made sure that it was farm-raised, thinking that that would help, only to learn that farm-raised fish are raised and fed wild-caught fish. Seems a bit retarded.
Also on the list: reaching my ideal weight of 140 lbs; running regularly, eventually to train and run a marathon for charity, for cancer research if possible; quit smoking; eliminating fake sugar, simple sugars and soda from my diet; begin and maintain a photo food journal; graduate college and become independent.
I quit smoking on Tuesday.
Two days ago I decided to become a vegetarian. I still consume eggs, dairy products and will still eat fish on very rare occasion, meaning approximately twice a month. It didn't require much in the way of shopping. Since we already ate less meat than the average American family, we already had a ton of veggie burgers, etc. and ass-loads of vegetables. Cliff has supported me fully, and said that while we're at home, he'll eat like a vegetarian as well. If he ever craves meat, we'll go out to eat where I can order my vegetarian meal and he can order his... whatever, so that I won't have to buy or cook what will most likely be too much meat for just him and my mother. My mom's rarely home to enjoy my home-cooking anyway. Lily loves vegetables more than meat at this particular point in her life anyway. For dinner tonight she ate corn and butter beans and a big sippy cup of milk.
Speaking of Lily, just this past week she began walking. Just yesterday she learned to stand up by herself in the middle of the floor. She runs through the apartment now.
I think Emily is pretty much my only reader, but for any others I may have missed, Cliff proposed on Lily's birthday. We're getting married in about three years after I graduate college. He plans to adopt Lily.

the fog before us.

momoflily@gmail.com — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 00:11:47 GMT

A couple of nights ago I told Cliff that it wasn't going to be okay. I don't know how to be okay with it. I don't want to simply transfer the unhappiness, for him to give in and give me what I desire without any desire on his part do so. That would only make him miserable, and it wouldn't be thrilling for me to think that he never wanted it. It'd ruin us. That said, it tortures me, and may be ruining us anyway. I asked him why, told him I simply didn't understand. I'm not asking that it be immediate, even soon. The idea of it even potentially being in the distant future would be enough, but I don't have that. I have only this.
He said he didn't know, couldn't explain. He said that he hates to see me like this, but that can't be the reason. I agreed. He attempted to calm me by saying that I am the one he wants to be with, for the rest of us his life. He told me that he loves me, that I'm beautiful, that his life is better simply by having me in it. I only cried harder.
I don't know what this conversation managed to do, except perhaps make things more awkward. We haven't discussed it since, which is typical. I reach an emotional over-load, cry for an hour or so into his shoulder while he hushes me, and the subject is then once again dropped. The emotional tension temporarily recedes. I manage to get by without crying, until it once again begins to build. It's no way to live.
I used to be a major fan of Sex and the City. I watched a rerun the other day, in which Harry proposed to Charlotte after she'd dumped him because he didn't want to get married and then come back to him saying that she'd be lucky to merely date him, that she loved him, that she wanted him in her life, in whatever format he was willing to offer. He said she deserved more, that he wanted to marry her, that he'd been silly. I can't imagine leaving Cliff over this. I'm already aware that he's the best boyfriend I've had, that my life is better with him in it in whatever capacity he sees fit. I'm not completely happy, but I'd be far worse without him.
I don't understand myself. Much as he doesn't understand why he's so against marriage, I don't understand why I need it. What reassurance does it provide? I grew up thinking that in the ideal relationship you love the other so much that you can't imagine a future without them, that you want to be with them as much as possible, that you want the world to know that that person is yours. Marriage is a promise, a promise of undying love, of a future together, of commitment. And in my mind, with the right person, it should be the most obvious choice. You can't imagine not marrying them, because you love them.
That said, I know I was foolish in marrying Dave. I didn't want to marry him. I thought of Cliff the entire time.
I worry, wonder how Cliff invisions our future. His lack of desire to ever marry makes me wonder if he's seen something in me that makes him unwilling to commit long-term. I hate doubting myself. I hate seeing myself in the light I imagine he sees me in - fat, ugly, stupid, a horrible mother, a failure. None of which he has ever even suggested. He tells me I'm beautiful, smart, a good mom.
This blows.

florida vacation, etc.

momoflily@gmail.com — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 17:02:57 GMT

Florida was fun, kinda. Lots of bad, lots of good. Lily was excellent on the long drives, sleeping the majority of the way. She and I both had major issues with allergies, though - both of us still suffering from lack of appetite and a wicked cough. The marriage issue had a flare up for me beginning with the ride up there. A text that Cliff sent to his brother, Jason, made that issue worse. And even after getting home I weeped several times thinking about not ever remarrying. I'm not sure why it matters to me so much. Sarah showed up there, her gorgeous little body sitting across from us. After she called, before she arrived, Cliff leaned over to me saying that he didn't invite her, didn't even tell her that he was coming to Florida - knowing that it would make me uncomfortable, even though they're just friends. But, when Jake told her, he felt it'd be rude to not invite her to the party that she already knew about. I hate her. I have little reason to. It's her seeming perfection that I hate. The perfectly slim body, bleach white teeth, cute little voice, big breasts, intelligent mind. I want to strangle her for thinking to come anywhere near Cliff.
We got approximately four and a half hours of sleep per night while we were there. I ate way too much. The beach at night was gorgeous. We didn't have sex for the entire duration of our stay. The mansion his mother was housekeeping for, which we stayed in for two nights, was gorgeous, but echoed like mad. I tried scallops and not-canned tuna for the first time. We bought a pipe for our pot. Lily took her first steps and started drinking out of a sippy cup. I love Cliff's mom. The rest of us his family is great too. I felt like I was a part of the family, welcomed in with open arms, completely comfortable and at home. His mom is fantastic, though. His brother, Jason, is a bit of an asshole, but none was directed to me. Vicki, Jason's girlfriend, is as she'd been described - dumb, talkative, a mean drunk, but pretty [a former lingerie model, apparently, as well as a former crack addict.]. Jeni, Cliff's sister, is sweet, pretty, but a bit lost. Brad, Cliff's dad, is an alcoholic, sweet, pushes himself on you if you let him - I don't mean in a sexual manner, just that he tends to cling. Shelby and Jaycie, Cliff's nieces.... Shelby is a bit annoying, as a five-year-old. Jaycie is aloof.
Today Cliff and I are taking Lily to the Children's Museum for her first birthday [which is Friday, by the way].

great.

momoflily@gmail.com — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 15:32:25 GMT

We celebrated Thanksgiving twice this year. Originally this was planned because Cliff was going to be working on Thanksgiving day, but, since he was fired, we did both with him anyway. Sunday was our first Thanksgiving. I cooked everything except the sweet potato casserole and the gravy. The former being prepared jointly by Cliff and my mother. Well, I peeled the potatoes. Cliff chopped and boiled. Mom mixed, added and baked. Cliff said that if it wasn't the best turkey he'd ever had, he couldn't tell me when he'd had one better. We had fantastic middle of the day, between cooking jobs, sex. And later, after being sexually satisfied and disgustingly full, we cuddled in bed and he said, "I meant to tell you before we did it and we ate, you're a great girlfriend." I responded, "the sex and food don't hurt, though." He smiled, "No, they don't."

Yesterday we drove to Little Rock to spend Thanksgiving with the rest of the family. My meal was tastier, but they had much better finger foods. We took a family photo before we left. I'll post it later. Cliff looks as if he's a good six inches taller than everyone else, even Erin, who's the tallest otherwise at 5' 11". We looked at it and immediately everyone had to comment on the giant. He's so frickin' tall.

I've been putting in some major work-outs. Wednesday night, knowing I'd be horrible on Thursday, I put in forty minutes on the elliptical, burning 485 calories, and lifted weights. I also went Thursday night, lifted weights and put in twenty minutes on the elliptical, burning 254 calories. I'm surprised how little soreness I have. Cliff, on the other hand, who's gone with me a couple of times this week to the gym, is having some major soreness in his biceps. He's pretty buff, but it's functional muscle, not showy muscle, and he doesn't work out often. I'm not surprised that he's sore. I think, like most people who don't work out regularly, that he pushes himself too hard when he does go, hurts himself, and instead of realizing that going back the next day to work out your sore muscles and relieve some of the built up acid, he wants to laze around and let it work itself out. *shrug*

Next week, Thursday, we're leaving for Florida. We're taking Lily with us. We'll be there for five or six days.

only girl

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 18:20:30 GMT

After having what basically amounted to a private meltdown in which I fully explored all of my paranoid worries regarding Cliff and the possibility of losing him, I had a very sudden shift in mood. The darkness which had gloomed over me and for a brief moment swallowed me receded. And since then, I've been amazingly free of it, capable of happiness.
Cliff was fired from Walmart three days ago. A few months ago the little neighborhood market that he worked at acquired a new manager, who seemed to care, above all else, about saving money in our slowed economy. He'd fired three other people in the deli before getting around to Cliff, all of which had been there for a few years. They gave Cliff the shifts he hated most, wrote him up twice for ridiculous reasons, and pushed hard to get him to quit. He was making nearly $9/hr, even after taking an eighty cent cut when he transferred, and was making more than anyone else in the deli. They were hiring new people in at $7/hr. Their reason for firing him? They said the deli had been dirty that morning. He wasn't the closer the night before, so it wasn't his responsibility to get it clean, and even so, he did more cleaning than the one on his shift was required. He told them this, and apparently they wouldn't even give him eye contact as they fired him.
Unlike Dave in this situation, he quickly began to look for another job, asking for applications on his walk home, building a resume and applying for several jobs online the next day, and going out this morning to job hunt as well. He also called ATT the morning after to cut down his phone plan to the bare minimum to save money, and has already called asking about his qualifications for unemployment.
The night after he was fired we went to the bar for pint night, something we'd already had planned, and our last outing until one of us gets a job. I asked him what his ideal body-type in a woman was. He initially said mine, attempting to be sweet. I laughed, at this point quite drunk, and said "no, really." He said he tended to find either chunky or extremely thin girls hot, primarily because they tend to have the best personalities because they try harder to compensate. Ultimately, he's a personality guy. This spawned, somehow, a discussion regarding the few girls I've worried about losing him to, which brought up Sarah. He voluntarily showed me his texts, of which he had approximately three from her in the last year, the same in the sent box. None of which said much of anything. He said he talks to her randomly, and he's not holding back, he talks to her as much as he likes... and that happens to be not all that much. While talking about body type he said, "does it really matter? We can talk about my ideal body type all you want, but ultimately, you're the only girl I've ever loved."
Later that night he told me that while we were playing pool he'd looked over at me and realized suddenly that I've really lost weight, and that I look better. I don't know exactly when that moment was, but him saying it made me smile.

get a room.

momoflily@gmail.com — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 00:09:42 GMT

Dave is supposedly homeless... again. While I want to follow that up with a "HA!", I'll refrain, primarily because that only makes it more difficult to finalize my divorce.

into my eyes.

momoflily@gmail.com — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 00:18:28 GMT

I wonder on occasion if I'm slowly losing him, or perhaps not so slowly... perhaps he is already lost. His presence isn't necessarily an indicator of his love and commitment. All of that can be false. My paranoia and worry aren't exactly the most attractive attributes either, and I don't dare voice any of it for fear that it'll only cause that which I'm worried will.

He asked once how I felt about him flirting with others. He flirts. I told him that as long as I was his, he was mine, that he could flirt.. just not in front of me. I don't want to know. It's a lie. I hate the idea of him flirting with others, of them getting the wrong idea, and - since they generally know he's taken, it degrades the image of me. It suggests that he doesn't respect and love me on the level that he says he does. It makes me appear unknowing, weak, a pawn. I hate that, and worse, wonder if he doesn't respect and love, worry that I am unknowing and weak.

Another Sarah. She suggested that he read East of Eden. He'd already read it. He reread it as soon as she mentioned it. He played it like it was nothing, that he genuinely loved the book. I know he did... but he never reads things I suggest. She's intelligent, beautiful.. and he flirts with her, begs to know about her. I hate her. I hate her for having the name Sarah. I hate her for drawing his interest, even if it is purely platonic. I hate myself for no longer gathering his attention, for sitting silently instead of engaging him in the conversation that he fell for me for, and I hate him for making me sick and miserable and angry and fucking self-loathing.

again

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 13:33:20 GMT

I spoke to CT. Despite feeling that I didn't do anything wrong, I did feel guilty for hurting him, so I apologized anyway. I felt lame. I was coughing, sneezing, and my voice was a mere grumble. And what came out of my mouth? "Yeah, so.. I called to say I was sorry."
It seemed to be all he needed, though. He didn't really want or need anything except for me to call. He'd already forgiven me. He was lonely. And I was the one he thought of, the only real friend he'd ever had. I asked him why, after many months, he'd finally wanted to talk to me again, he said "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you."
His phone and internet were cut off the day after our conversation, which is just as well. While I am still not tempted to be with him, I have no desire to hurt him further, and continuing to talk to him can only do that.

CHY's mother is giving him a large chunk of change to help us with our trip to Florida this winter. She was going to surprise us by coming to visit in the next few weeks. She misses him horribly, and wants to see the baby. Since we don't intend to bring Lily with us on this vacation, the coming to see her was a strong pull. But, after she'd thought about it, she realized that it'd be significantly easier for us if we didn't have to worry as much about saving. It'll be hard enough saving the money for just one of us. Significantly easier, though. Shari is a wonderful woman. Though I've not met her, I can honestly say that she feels like a second mother. I want to hug her.

forgive/apologize.

momoflily@gmail.com — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 00:45:43 GMT

CT sent me an off-line message saying that he'd had a lot of time to think, and if I still want to apologize, I can. He included his new phone number.

Interesting.

I'm not sure yet if I will. I probably will, but it won't be until Friday at the earliest. CHY is off until Wednesday, and my mom is off Wednesday and Thursday. I want this to be nothing more than an amiable ending, but I don't want it to be made any more odd or full of guilt by having someone else in the next room who'll read into it. And while I don't feel guilty for finding a boyfriend, I do feel guilty for hurting him. I just... hate the idea of him being mad, of being some poor broken man because of me. He deserves better than that. He may not be the best guy in the world, or the right guy for me, but he's not a bad guy, and he deserves better than what I've given him.

raconteurs concert

momoflily@gmail.com — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 21:51:23 GMT

The concert last night was awesome. Unfortunately Jack White seemed to be losing his voice, so he did a little over half of the songs while one of his female roadies sang the rest. She didn't know the words and had to use sheet music. Still good.
I spent the majority of the concert rubbing Cliff's thigh and ass, his arm wrapped around me, occasionally slipping under my shirt making me wonder if he might grope my boobs. It was a non-smoking arena, but the balcony seemed to be the smoking section, half a dozen people sneaking cigarettes and joints. We moved to the back before the concert was over to smoke a few cigarettes of our own. The over-whelming smell of pot, strong as hell pot, made me wish that the arena was significantly smaller so that it might've hot-boxed and at least given me a contact high. As is I was merely tortured.
We stopped at a bar on the way back, substituting what we could get, alcohol, for what we wanted. I drank two long island ice teas, both far too weak on the alcohol, and the second tasting like... mixer. It sucked. Plus, apparently it was karaoke night, which blows, particularly in the south where everyone but Cliff and I seems to be in love with country music. When we got home Cliff played Oblivion on his Xbox360, we ate some fast food and I went to sleep. A very dull ending.

on marriage.

momoflily@gmail.com — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 00:40:26 GMT

Okay, I have issues. That's the understatement of the century, I feel sure. Namely, I have issues with marriage. Regardless of how little prepared i am to remarry, I like the concept of marriage, the idealized visual that I have of it from growing up watching Disney movies and romantic chick flicks in which marriage is always the way a perfect, loving relationship displays that measure of affection. I like the idea of displaying my love to the world via ceremony, wedding bands, the terms "husband" and "wife." I like the idea that should one of us be hurt in an accident, and the hospital sees fit to restrict visiting to family only that I won't be the mere 'girlfriend,' but will be the ultimate family member, the other half. No, not the better half, simply the other, the one that would have the right, as the person who knew him best, to make decisions based on the knowledge of what he would want most, instead of the one sitting, weeping in the waiting room with absolutely no right to see him at all.
Shortly after CHY and I began dating, before he moved in, he explained to me exactly how he felt regarding marriage. He said that he didn't want the government or god involved in our relationship, felt that they had no right to be involved, what we have is between us. It's not a lack of commitment, he already felt/feels the same level of commitment, the deepest, purest form. Our love is not any less than that held by any married couple. At the time he said that if I wanted to marry, if I needed that, for whatever reason, and I asked, he'd say yes. He didn't/doesn't want to marry, but said that he would. And I told him, and I maintain this, that I would never ask him to marry me knowing that it isn't what he wants.
Two weeks or so after he moved in, experiencing the rush of happiness, hope, love that goes with being in the honeymooner stage, he told me that he'd been thinking about asking me.. and then did. I was over-whelmed, surprised. I'd managed, up until then, to convince myself that I was perfectly happy being his girlfriend, long-term, never expecting anything more, convincing myself that there wasn't anything more to be had. It's just paper... it means nothing. And then he asked. I didn't even really believe it. I asked him, several times, if he was sure that he wanted to ask that, if he felt he should wait, think about it longer. He said he was sure. I, still unsure of him, said yes.
Two or three days later he tells me he's not ready, not yet, it's not my fault.... he should've thought it through further. And then says he'll ask me again later.. when he's ready.
Prior to him asking, I had nothing to anticipate, and I was okay. Hope isn't always good. It can taunt and scream. It wasn't always an over-whelming thought, wondering if he'd ever get around to ask me again. Suddenly I did feel that I needed it, even if it was twenty years in the future, I needed to know that one day that was where we'd end up.
I got drunk... we got drunk last night. Bacardi 151. Over 75% alcohol. He asked me to pick a topic. I don't remember how I brought it up, but I remember the high-lights. I told him that I wished he'd never asked. He explained again why he didn't like it. And the more he explained, the more he spoke, the more it became clear that he wasn't ever going to ask again.. he never intends to marry. "I don't want to ruin what we have. And I feel that marrying you would be the worst thing that we could do for our relationship. I'd feel trapped. Part of the beauty of what we have is the freedom to be here, everyday by choice. I'm not here because I have ot be, but because I want to be. If I felt I had to be, I'd be bound to do something stupid... and so would you." The conversation lasted for hours, most of which I sobbed during. And I agreed, whole-heartedly, but still fucking wanted him to want to marry me... still fucking wanted the distant wedding [very distant, mind you], the husband.. the family.
I puked.
As we cuddled and were going to sleep, I told him he'd lied, that he'd promised to ask me again. He corrected me, "I was wrong. I didn't lie.. I was wrong." He apologized for ever asking. He told me that he wasn't against having a commitment ceremony, wearing the rings, calling each other husband and wife. But the legal and religious aspects would hold no part in our relationship.
He asked if I'd feel like we were pretending if were wore wedding bands, if it'd be a mockery of what I wanted. I don't know. I don't know. I understand where he's coming from, that it would still be a sign to the world that I'm taken, that I could still look at it and see a representation of his love, a constant reminder of him.. of us. Is it the same?
We bought simple, white gold wedding bands today. His will be in in two weeks. [He has a size thirteen ring finger.] I'm already wearing mine. I stare at it, the shiny metal against my finger. I'm not a materialistic girl. I don't need gold. I don't need diamonds. In fact, I insisted that he not get me one, however small. The band was less than forty dollars. Barely gold. Just enough to not give me a rash.
I don't know if I'm happy with the outcome, or if the wedding debate won't be a sore spot in our relationship continually. I won't bring it up again, not for a long while. And I hope to eventually meet emotionally where I've already been logically, happily agreeing that our life is beautiful and perfect without anything else. That our love is pure, that nothing we have together is forced, and that we live each day together simply because that's exactly what we want to do. That is beautiful. Why on earth would I want anything more?

go. stay. go.

momoflily@gmail.com — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 17:28:52 GMT

The trip to Texas was canceled with no explanation. We nave no idea if they're planning to reschedule, or if that's that. It pisses both of us off. They ruined our early morning sex, made me cry, and for what? Not a damned thing. I even fucking did his laundry for the trip. Bitches.

I've been trying to find a local writer's club, wtih no success. I think it'd be beneficial to hang out with like-minded people, unprofessional creative writer types. Perhaps I'd write more. Perhaps I'd get some free inspiration. Not that it fucking matters since my little hick town seems to lack intellectuals, or, at the very least, motivated intellectuals. I say that, as I sit here instead of trying to start my own writer's guild.

I emailed Jerry and Erin [my brother and his wife] asking if they'd be interested in reading what I've written thus far in my novel and offering up some constructive criticism, etc. Anyone else interested in reading and motivating me to write more frequently, please.. just say so. I need all the push I can get. I write far too little. At this rate I'll be pushing sixty before I finish my first novel, and I have four mentally mapped already. The lack of accountability makes it so easy to be lazy. Writing isn't like a 9-5 job, with a boss hanging over your shoulder reminding you of your dead-line, unless.. of course.. you're a professional writer. I'm not at all there yet.

fuck texas.

momoflily@gmail.com — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 15:33:10 GMT

Cliff's boss called while we were having sex this morning to tell him that he'd be leaving tomorrow to go to Texas, not Louisiana as originally planned. He'll be gone for six days. Sex ruined. And I cried. I hate thinking that I am truly so selfish that those in need come next to my neediness. But, I hate seeing him go, even if it is for less than a week.

I miss him already.

night life.

momoflily@gmail.com — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 14:44:30 GMT

I've dreamed of CT twice this week. The first time we had sex, hard and vicious. I won't say passionate. It wasn't the "I'm madly in love with you" type of dream that I tend to have. It was more akin to fucking the shit out of each other, taking advantage of lost opportunities. It was sweaty and rough, painful, most of it acted out with my teeth grinding against each other. After the sex, we walked along the river, and encountered CHY, who brutally beat CT until he lay quite still in the dirt. He punched me in the stomach and jaw, and kicked me a few times as well. Neither of us really put up a fight. We looked as guilty as we were. CHY carried me home, his face set in stone, still angry, but not leaving me there, like CT, who hadn't even moved.
Last night's dream... there was no sex. We smoked cigarettes in his backyard. [We didn't share... we never did share, even while we were dating.] I casually said, "I wish this was pot." He laughed, and said, "who doesn't?"
Towards the end of the cigarette, while looking up at the stars, I said, "You know I miss you, right?" He nodded, sadly. "Yeah... I know."
"Talk to me," I said. "Just.. fucking talk to me. That's all I want."
He wrapped his arm around me and said, "I can't just talk to you. That isn't all I want."
I buried my head in his shoulder and whispered, "I know."

-

It's ridiculous. And I feel like a total shit, like less of a girlfriend to CHY, with my dreams focusing on a different Cliff in a not entirely pure way, and I feel bad about hurting CT, still. Fucking brain.