Diary of a Divorcee

Life's a journey.

It has its ups. Its downs. Its sharp turns. Its sudden screeching halts.

Okay, from the sounds of it, maybe life is more like a roller coaster...

One of those big, rickety, wooden ones.

The ones that are simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating and leave you with a slight nauseating headache and a giant grin on your face.

The ones where you're not sure if you loved it or hated it, but either way you need to find a place to sit down for a second, sip some lemonade, and reassess what the hell you were thinking getting in that line in the first place.

That description is pretty apropos for me lately.

While 2014 was a tough one, 2015 was one for the books... Probably the only book I'd support burning to ash.

2015 was the year my marriage crumbled into ruin.

I'm not going to go into the 'hows' and 'whys' and all the nitty gritty details, so go ahead and put away the popcorn. None of that matters, in the end. Mine is a story that has been played out by millions of people before me, and will be muddled through by millions in the years to come. It's nothing anomalous or noteworthy, with the exception of where it has brought me to within myself.

And that's what this post is about.

Everyone who has gone through a divorce has experienced this highly strange dichotomy: your experiences are both singular and universal, unique and commonplace. And it is in that swirling, consuming polarity that one finds their true self.

I've blogged before about living your truth, being your authentic self, and enjoying the journey. And I will admit that this past year, I've struggled hard core with taking my own advice. It became far too easy to get caught up in the daily grind, in the hustle and bustle of this new version of normal, in just trying to keep the ship afloat.

For months following the split, my sole focus was on survival. Just trying to get through each day. Keep my chin up, tick off the boxes on my mental To Do list, and keep my wits about me.

And I'll admit. It was hard as hell.

Some days I rocked it.

Others... well, I got rocked. Badly.

I lost a few friends. Gained a few more.

I thought I had it all figured out, and then found myself literally and metaphorically collapsed on the floor, utterly walloped by the latest curveball.

I felt strong. I felt broken. I was vulnerable, yet completely closed off.

I laughed until I cried. I cried myself to sleep.

I screamed into my pillow, wondering how the hell I wound up in this place, and questioning whether or not I'd ever feel okay again.

And slowly-- painfully slowly-- I started putting myself back together.

I have historically always been a guarded person. I have never trusted easily, so when I do finally let that wall down, I'm even more vulnerable because of it. I have been called Stoic Sarah more times than I can count, and it used to be something I wore with pride; a badge of honor, if you will.

After all, if you keep people away, they can't hurt you. That means you're strong, right?

I am a rock. I am an island.

Or so I thought.

But I am not a Simon & Garfunkel song (despite my adoration of their music!).

I am a human being. And contrary to my public persona, I am an emotional, vulnerable, breakable one at that. I put on a facade of strength. I smile despite hurting. I laugh even though I'm crying inside. I flip sarcasm and jaunty wit constantly, creating an airy, easygoing image. People assume I don't care, or that nothing fazes me, but my reality couldn't be farther from that. Especially this past year.

And therein lay my struggle.

How do I convey to those around me my personal truth? How do I let my wall down, knowing how badly I've been hurt and wanting more than anything to avoid ever feeling that way again? How can I be strong if I let myself show weakness? How can I let those around me know the turmoil swirling beneath the surface, behind my bright smile and sparkling eyes?

I didn't think I could. I didn't know how to balance that need for connection and emotional support with the compulsion for self-defense. I've never been good at letting people in. Those closest to me can attest to that. My emotional wall is arguably my biggest flaw.

But here's something I learned along the way...

You can be broken and whole. You can be strong and vulnerable. You can let your walls down while still feeling guarded and afraid. You can be brave in your fear. And you can let people in without it destroying you.

I've been blessed to welcome some incredible people into my life this year. People whose love, support, humor, and wisdom have helped me not only find my strength, but have helped me heal along the way.

There is no light without darkness. There are no rainbows without storms. And there is no roller coaster without the stomach-churning twists, drops, and halts.

I've struggled. I've hurt. I've been broken. But I still find myself thankful. Because I've learned. I've grown. And I'm stronger for it.

I'm excited to see what this next year holds, and I welcome it with a trepidatious but open heart.

So bring it on, 2016. And you better play nice!

Annus Horribilis

Latin for "horrible year".

Also, the title of a speech given by Queen Elizabeth in 1992. 

And while it's safe to say that Liz's year at that time was arguably far worse than mine has been of late, I'm still commandeering the phrase for my own purposes. So there.

As you can tell through a simple comparison of dates, it's been almost a full year since I've blogged. My personal life took a fairly distinct sideways turn. 

Or several, as it were. 

(I'll address those in further detail in subsequent posts.)

As I bobbed and weaved and tried to get my life back on track, I fell away from writing for awhile. Partially because I was so busy. Partially because I didn't have the mental or emotional wherewithal to give it its due diligence. 

As time progressed, I eventually worked my way back toward writing. A bit of freelance here and there (time and exhaustion permitting). A bit of my personal WIP, more recently. But it wasn't until this past week that I felt ready to get back to blogging.

Probably sounds weird, right?

But writing is such a personal endeavor. It is something you pour your heart and soul (and a lot of caffeine) into. And with where I was at mentally and emotionally, I wasn't ready (or, honestly, willing) to open those gates again. First, because I didn't want my WIP to be associated with this tough time for me, risking tainting it with bad memories and negative emotions. And second, because blogging is so personal, and I needed to process my own crap before attempting to jauntily parlay that into a series of posts that didn't sound like they were written by a hyper-emotional Crazy Cat Lady with a twitchy eye.

So, eleven months later, here I am, bitches! Back and better than ever! Let's do this!

Quick update

Life has been a little bit (lot bit) hectic lately, which hasn't left much room (or sanity) for blogging. While today is no exception, I wanted to post a quick blurb-y update.

We decided not to sell our house after all. The idea of selling and moving again was breaking the kids' hearts. They love this house, they love our property, and with everything they went through moving halfway across the country 18 months ago, we just decided it wasn't fair to them.

Besides that, Hubs' job is going to keep us here for a few more years (at least) anyway, so what's the point in selling a house we love, only to move into a rental we'll just have to tolerate, when we'll be here in Cheyenne anyway?

So that's the scoop. It may not be the wisest financial decision, in terms of the drilling and property value and whatnot, but we're letting future Mommy and Daddy deal with that.

Besides, once I'm a hot shot novelist, it shouldn't matter, right?

Right?!?

Guys?

Why are you laughing and walking away?!?

Not in on the joke

So life has been... a little nutso lately. In some ways, good. In other ways... well, see above.

As I discussed on here in a few previous posts, life has apparently had a sense of humor lately. Unfortunately, no one let me in on the joke.

First, the broken dishwasher saga really and truly turned into a saga. We just had it fixed this week for the FIFTH time. Yes. In the past seven weeks, my brand new dishwasher has worked for a total of about four days. I spent Thanksgiving hand washing dishes because the super-awesome customer service at B&B Appliance couldn't be bothered. I get it, they're probably super annoyed at us by now. But maybe if you fixed it the first damn time. Or the second... Or the third...

It got to the point where this past week we got our home builder involved. We only bought our appliances from this store because she convinced us of their stellar customer service and quick response time. We made it clear that has been anything but our experience, and reiterated what has been going on. She promised us (and yes, we got it in writing) that if this last time didn't fix it once and for all, she'd personally buy us a new dishwasher.

So we'll see what happens.

On top of that, Little One is sick again. For one, he has a double ear infection AGAIN (second time in under a month, poor dude). But the bigger issue is his tonsils. He has had overly-swollen tonsils for two years now, and no doctor, neither here nor back in Washington, took it seriously. I've taken him in to be seen several times, and every single time I was told that since he wasn't running a fever and they weren't impacting his ability to eat, breathe, or speak, they were fine for now.

Well, both ear infections he's had occurred without a fever. So clearly that's not necessarily a telling factor in my child's wellness.

And last week his tonsils suddenly poofed up so big that they were touching and he was talking like he had cotton shoved in his mouth. And he started snoring like a logger. And the right tonsil has this nasty vein running across it (I swear, it's like they're starting their own colony or something).

Finally, the doctor is taking me seriously.

Right now Little One is on uber-antibiotics to deal with the ear infection and to hopefully clear up whatever made his tonsils turn into monsters. Otherwise, it's looking like surgery. But, of course, we will have to make a separate appointment with a Ear, Nose, & Throat specialist. And because Wyoming has refused to acknowledge the Affordable Care Act, our insurance company is being... well, less than ideal.

So we're dealing with that.

There's really no stress like that of having a sick child. Especially when you're afraid he will stop breathing in his sleep.

In terms of work, my freelance writing has started taking off, though as they say, be careful what you wish for!

Two weeks ago I was hired to ghostwrite a two-part supernatural romance series. You know, fallen angels, ancient pacts, lost souls, the usual love story!

It's been a blast writing it so far. Much more fun than those medical articles I was doing for the difficult web clients. Who, by the way, pretty much fell into radio silence when I got sick last month.

(Did I forget to mention? I spent the first two weeks of November so sick with the flu that I couldn't get out of bed. It was the sickest I've been in years, and it was awful. Hubs got it after me, so he can attest that I wasn't just being a baby; it really was terrible.)

Anyway, so I haven't worked with those clients in awhile, and to be honest, I don't miss it. Writing this romance story has been so much less stressful, and has allowed be to exercise my creativity, rather than regurgitating dry medical data.

Well, this week I was invited to submit a proposal for another romance series, this one four parts. I was hesitant (hell, I'm still hesitant!) because the style of writing is much different than I'm used to, and the time frame is quite short. However, taking Tina Fey's advice, I went for it.

My proposal was accepted, and now it looks like I'll be ghostwriting two novel series! The first book of the current series is due by the end of January. The entirety of the second series (all four books) are due by the first week of February.

Suffice it to say I'm losing my mind a little bit. But in a good way. Mostly.

Finally, the biggest things we're dealing with right now is this little gem. Go ahead and take a sec to read it, I'll wait...

*twiddles thumbs*

*tries whistling*

*remembers can't whistle*

Oh you're back! So yeah, basically, powers beyond our control have essentially screwed us over. Like, big time.

After taking several days to process, we decided our plan of action was to try and sell our house before the drilling starts, because once it starts, the odds of someone wanting to buy right here drop significantly, to say the least.

If the house sells, we will rent a house in town for now, until we figure out where we are going to end up. Living in Cheyenne was never a long-term plan. It was only supposed to be for two or three years, and then we were going to find Hubs a new, fancy-schmancy job back in our beloved Seattle. However, his job here is really good, so it may keep us here longer than expected. Or not. We have no clue.

What we do know is that if we don't sell our house now, we will for sure be stuck here for several more years, until the drilling is done and property values increase enough to give us our value back.

If the house doesn't sell in the next month or so, we've accepted the fact that this means we're sticking it out here much longer than planned, and we'll just make the best of it at that point. We'll finish the basement, landscape the yard beautifully, develop the land more, build outbuildings, and basically make our 40 acres so damn desirable that the pump jacks won't deter buyers.

So besides spending my weekend working feverishly on my writing projects, finishing decorating for Christmas, attending my daughter's choir concert, and baking cookies, Hubs and I will be frantically getting our house ready to show. It went on the market last Thursday, and we have the photographer and countless local agents coming out on Tuesday to see the property. Gotta make it snazzy before then!

Because, you know, no pressure.

Like I said, life has a sense of humor. It'd just be nice to be in on the joke.

Everyone calm the f*ck down, mmmkay?

In my last post, I discussed the random challenge we were faced with in receiving two competing job offers in one day. Well, given my overly-caffeinated inability to focus coupled with my mental and emotional exhaustion, I apparently didn't explain the situation particularly well.

Because of this, and the blowback I have received regarding our "decision", let me clarify a few things:

No, we don't hate living here. We just love Seattle and the plan was always to move back in a few years anyway. It's not a waving-the-white-flag situation, so keep your "I told you so" to yourself.

No, it would not have been "selling [our] soul" had we taken the Seattle offer. We knew it wasn't perfect, and that it would have been career-limiting, but it would have gotten us back up there (which was our only reason for considering it). Also, no, I don't make my decisions based on [this individual's] opinions. But thanks anyway.

Financially speaking, it would have been challenging and borderline irresponsible to move back. Moving 1200 miles is friggin' expensive! U-Haul, gas, food, hotels, and oh yeah, buying or renting a house; it adds up. Also, while we would have been able to sell our house quickly, we would not have even made back our down payment since we haven't lived here very long. All of that was a major 'con'.

While our heart may be in Seattle, sometimes you have to be a grown up and consider the responsible choice. Staying here and taking the local offer is the better career move, as well as the financially responsible move. Facts don't lie.

What I know everyone is thinking when
they say "I understand"...

Yes, I would rather live in Seattle than Wyoming. Duh.

Yes, I can be a Seattle girl even if I live 1200 miles away. I will always love Seattle. It's an amazing city filled with incredible art, culture, music, food, and people. And coffee. (God, I miss good coffee.) The climate and geography are amazing. The perpetual green is beautiful. The ferris wheel is... well, terrifying for me, on account of hating heights. But still. Living sandwiched between the ocean and the Cascades is where my soul is fed. Seattle is an incredibly special place.

Yes, I was looking forward to coming back. I had already made plans to spend my birthday up in Victoria with my childhood bestest friend, having high tea at the Empress (delicious!), roaming the cute little shops and bakeries, and hitting up a few of the 8,000 Irish pubs down by the harbor. I was going to kidnap other bestest friend, Ginger Jesus, and their kids for Thanksgiving. I was planning the annual Halloween party with my mom. I was invested in this.

And yes, I was heartbroken when it didn't work out.

But I truly believe everything happens for a reason, and apparently staying put is what we're meant to do for now. Hub's new company will provide him the valuable experience, marketable title, and global platform to grow his career in ways the Seattle job could never have. So while I miss my family and friends terribly, I understand that things worked out for the better. 

I'm sorry I let everyone down by dangling the carrot and then having to take it away. 

But we will be back. That much is guaranteed. 

And until then? We enjoy the journey and the experience. Next stop, Mt. Rushmore and Carhenge!

It wouldn't be spring in the Front Range without insane weather patterns

Friday: sunny and 78 degrees.

Saturday: sunny and 75 degrees.

Sunday: snowing and 22 degrees….

Welcome to spring in the High Plains?

The Husband and I took our new travel trailer for a test run this weekend, and went camping down at Cherry Creek State Park just south of Aurora, Colo. (Or, more accurately, the campground is actually nestled within the city, which was… a new experience for us. Our campground back in Washington was 30 miles north of nowhere!)

There's snow in them there clouds...

It was a lovely, albeit quick, trip, and we made many, many camping and road trip plans for the coming spring and summer months! We did, however, get snowed out on Sunday, so our weekend was cut short. Thank goodness we left when we did, because we hit a perfect break in the weather that made it (at least slightly) less hairy getting back to Cheyenne.

And I have to say, I felt sorry for the poor saps in their tents… been there, done that, it sucks when the weather turns on you and all that is between you and Mother Nature's fury is a thin wall of polyurethane-coated fabric!

My day thus far has consisted of massive loads of laundry; getting the trailer linens and dishes cleaned and squared away; paying bills; and other general housewifery items.

I had planned on making a grocery run as well, but yesterday's stupid snow fall and subsequent deep freeze put a damper on that, on account of the ice rinks we call roads. I'll get to it tomorrow, since it'll be the only nice day this week!

I also need to attend to that whole pesky school thing. Spring quarter starts today.

Blergh.

BUT!!!!! FINAL QUARTER!!!!!

I've thus far managed to avoid any and all school work today. Because what better way to kick off my last quarter than through intense procrastination, amiright?!?

Lucky it's a super light week. (And one of my only light weeks all quarter… le sigh…)

I'll get it done. I always do. I just have to put my house back together first. Because as it turns out, while RV camping is in many ways much easier and more convenient than tent camping, there's one thing they don't tell you. Your house still ends up looking like a bomb went off in it when you get back!

Is there anything better than a campfire?

Duhn-nun… Dunh-nun, dunh-nun, duhn-nun… Ay Ay Ay...

It's safe to say it's been a pretty hectic couple of weeks for this Emerald City girl. Between school, kids, family, and random life stuff, I feel like I've been going 8 miles a minute lately.

(Yes, that's a Bob Seger reference)

(And yes, it's okay to combine Ozzy and Bob Seger references… I encourage it, actually)

Winter quarter is winding down in a few weeks, which means that everything is due all at once and none of the instructors seem cognizant of the fact that we have more than one class. So that's fun.

On top of that, this happened:

This was her first night here. She wouldn't leave the door mat!
Now she's my shadow.

Meet Luna!

She's an 8-month old German Shepherd mix that we adopted from the Cheyenne Animal Shelter. She's the sweetest pup ever. Now, I'm not really a dog person, but the kids have been dying for one for a couple of years now. We were waiting until our little guy was big enough (and potty trained enough), and began keeping an eye out for dogs in the last couple of months. Then, through some sort of kismet, we met Luna.

Her first few days with us she was very quiet and timid, but she has warmed up really quickly to us, and in some sort of ironic twist, I have become her favorite. She's adorable, and we're buds, and she's already super protective of all of us.

Maybe I can be a dog person after all…

Then this happened:

New couches!!!

Leather. Reclining. Need I say more?

Finally, this happened:

Yep. I got braces. My top teeth have been crooked my whole life, and I had sort of resigned myself to it. I felt like it would be ridiculous to get braces as an adult. I felt like I'd lived with my teeth the way they were for this long, I might as well just let it go. (Or try, at least)

Then I changed my mind. I think part of it had to do with turning 30, and deciding to take charge of things that I had the power to change. Like working out regularly again. Pursuing writing more. Getting more involved politically.

And getting straight teeth.

37 life lessons

Here is an article by Dawn Gluskin on 37 ways to live life to the fullest. I have to say, I love all of it!

So I wrote a little something for Yahoo!....

And they published it!!!

It's nothing fancy or particularly special, but for my first actually published piece, I'm fairly stoked about it.

Now I feel compelled to go buy a tweed jacket. And maybe some horn-rimmed glasses.

Though I'll never be as cool as HRG

My "red sink" moment

So as I've mentioned before, we are currently building a house. This is my first time building a house from scratch, and there have been many times so far that I have felt overwhelmed, or had trouble believing it was actually happening.

Well it is starting to sink in now!

Yesterday we had a meeting with the builders to go over some of the specs for the house- specifically the windows and doors package.

At first it was a breeze. We knew we wanted the Queen Anne grid, so all we had to do was choose the sizes for each room. The longest we spent discussing any of the windows was in figuring out the size of the rain glass transom for the master bath, and then a quick debate over whether or not to add an extra window in the basement. It's an upgrade, so it's an out-of-pocket expense, but having them order it from their wholesaler and install it for us ahead of time will be a heck of a lot cheaper than us buying it ourselves later on and then having to cut the whole, fix the drywall and the siding, and all that. So we went for it.

Donesies!

Then we moved on to the doors.

Sigh...

The doors were not as easy.

We wound up going with a simple two-panel door for all the interior doors, because they aren't too ornate and have more of an updated classic country vibe, which we liked. When in Rome, right?

Then we had to pick the exterior doors. Choosing the two garage doors was fairly easy. We maintained the same two-panel look, only in the steel, fire-resistant doors. Choosing the two sliders was easy too, as we just went with the Queen Anne grid in those as well.

Then we had to move on to the front door.

And here is where my brain started to hurt.

So. Many. Options.

So let me share a story before moving on. Back when I was probably 10 or so, my parents were remodeling our house. I remember overhearing the discussions about all the different color choices and design options and layouts (something I relate to now!) They needed to move forward with the kitchen design, but my mom was stuck. She couldn't envision it. She didn't know the look she wanted, the layout, any of it.

And then inspiration struck.

We were at the home improvement store, and she was perusing kitchen sinks when she saw it. The sink. It was an enameled cast iron sink. And it was red.

It looked much like this

Yes.

A red sink.

Not everyone's taste, but it spoke to her.

From there, the rest of the kitchen came together easy peasy. My mom found her inspiration in that sink.

Fast forward twenty years to yesterday, and there I am sitting in the builder's office, flipping through a gigantic book of door options.

Too fancy.

Too plain.

Too see through.

I flipped one more page, and I found it.

The door.

Same two-panel design as our other doors. The top panel was leaded glass, much like many of the other doors I had been seeing. It also had matching side light panels as well.

But rather than the fancy schmancy curlicue designs that were not my taste, this door had a cleaner geometric pattern. Squares and rectangles in different textures of privacy glass.

And intermittent in the pattern were ruby red pieces.

It was simple, yet beautiful.

It had a pop of color.

And it spoke to me.

That's my front door. I just knew it immediately.

I had my "red sink" moment.

Similar to this, only with ruby pieces...

Culinary creativity

So lately... as in the past several months... I've been in somewhat of a cooking rut.

Like, big time.

Between the kids' school schedule, my school demands, and the daily comings and goings of life in general, creative cooking gave way to old favorites. Same ol' same ol'. Yummy, but boring and predictable!

But since it is summer time, and since I lack much else to do since moving to a new state and not yet feeling established here, I have branched out and began experimenting with some new recipes.

Last week, I made jambalaya for the first time.

Mine didn't look this good :-(

To be honest, I didn't like it. The Husband, and my two boys did. My daughter and I... not so much.

It wasn't that it tasted bad or anything. For my daughter, I think she just found it too spicy. For me, I found it a little dry, and it was lacking something- something I couldn't put my finger on. So I'm going to find a new recipe and try again.

Yesterday was much different. I made a Four-Cheese Penne, and holy crap balls it was delicious!!!

Granted, for someone who is sensitive to dairy, it wasn't the smartest choice, per se. But it was super yummy all the same. It just requires a little portion control- both for the extreme amount of cheese in it, and for the simple fact that it is crazy high in calories and sodium. I made steamed broccoli to go with it, in an attempt to beef up the health factor of the meal. And I just have a deep love of steamed broccoli!

Crazy delicious!!!

Tonight, I'm going for something quite a bit healthier. Chicken and Roasted Veggies. In the crock pot! (I haven't used my crock pot in... years)

I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken tonight

I'm using chicken breasts, rather than thighs, because I find chicken thighs repulsive. I also added extra gravy to it, because I added extra potatoes, so I figured it should balance out (hopefully). This recipe has less than half the calories of the penne dish, as well as less than half the sodium content. And the addition of veggies is always a plus in my book!

I may make some homemade bread to go with it, but I haven't decided yet.

I'll let you know how it turns out!

Both the chicken and penne recipes came from this little Casserole & Slow Cooker cookbook I grabbed one day in the check-out line at the grocery store. And then proceeded to forget about. For years.

Upon moving, I rediscovered it in my stacks of cookbooks, and the rest is history!

Yummy, easy, cheap, and family-friendly recipes? Score!

Greetings from the other side... of the Rockies

Hey hey! I'm back from the abyss.

And by abyss, I mean the internet-less world of moving.

Man has it been crazy lately. Like, mind-bogglingly so. I find it hard to believe that we left Washington only a week and a half ago, it feels like longer (and shorter all at the same time).

So here I am, in a new state, in a new time zone, in a sort of temporary limbo whilst I await our house being built.

The OCD organizational side of me? Not loving it.

The hippie, gypsy, free-spirited side of me? Going with the flow, man.

Cause really? That's all I can do right now.

I'm a little bitter, because the apartment we're renting until our house is done doesn't allow satellite dishes to be put up, so we had to suspend our DIRECTV service for a few months and go with Comcast.

And to be clear: I. Hate. Comcast.

Why, you ask? Because they suck. Exhibit A? The fact that our DVR doesn't work. At all. I can't record anything. I can't pause, rewind, etc. I can't enter in any favorites. Nothing. I get an error message saying that the DVR function is disabled and to call customer service.

And when we called to figure out what was going on, the stupid customer service rep said it was just because we weren't pressing the buttons on the remote hard enough.

Let me repeat.

Our DVR isn't functional, everything we try to do is met with an error message, and we were told it was because we weren't pressing buttons hard enough.

Special kind of stupid, I tell ya.

So after several more phone calls, we finally have a tech coming out on Thursday. I guess my reality TV escapism will have to wait...

Otherwise known as the Real Housewives of somewhere or other

Peace-ing out

Tonight is my last night in my first house. Tomorrow is my last day living in Washington.

(At least, for the foreseeable future)

Goodbye Snohomish. I heart you.

Goodbye Lake Roesiger. You've been lovely and you will be sorely missed!!!

This area of Western Washington is a gem and will always hold a special place in my soul...

Homeless on the range?!?

Hey hey!

So I know I fell off the blogging bandwagon lately. I've been a little busy. You know, that whole preparing to move multiple states (and a timezone) away. It tends to be a bit time consuming.

But I'm back bitches!

So this past weekend we were down in Cheyenne, getting the lay of the land and trying to accomplish certain pre-moving goals. Like establishing a place to live. You know, crazy stuff like that.

Suffice it to say, it didn't go as planned.

First of all, if someone is offering full price to buy your house... take the freaking offer. Don't play hardball just because you can. Shit like that pisses me off. We encountered that when we were buying a home up here too. Builders decide "hey, there's interest in my houses, let's try to squeeze every last penny from them!"

No dice, bro. Unlike some homebuyers, I'm more than okay with walking away if you decide to be a wanker. Mama don't play like that.

So we found a property we liked and we made an offer on it. 3,000 square feet, three bedrooms, two baths, with a full, unfinished basement (that will eventually give us five bedrooms and three baths) on 35.5 acres! For a good price!

The catch?

The house isn't built yet, so we'd have to rent a place for about four months in the meantime. Le sigh.

But for my dream home? Sure, I can deal.

We made an offer- full price, just asking for closing costs. The builders decided to play hardball, and countered. We were unimpressed. After mulling it over, we countered their counter-offer, and made it clear that we were more than willing to walk away.

Because is the house perfect? Yes. Is it worth being put over a barrel for? Nope.

So after waiting until the last possible second before we had to leave Cheyenne on Monday, the builders finally got back to us- they had accepted our offer! So we are under contract. Check one thing off the To Do list.

Did I register my kids for school down there? Nope. Because I was too busy running around trying to scramble and find a place to rent. And that took up an unimaginable amount of time.

Did we leave Cheyenne with a short-term rental lined up? Nope!

*facepalm*

*heavy sigh*

*long drag of a cigarette even though I don't smoke*

Sad Keanu understands

So here's the thing with Cheyenne.

It's a military town. At any given time there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of military personnel in town- all needing a place to live. And many, if not most, of them rent. On top of that, most of the available (and decent) rental houses won't do a short-term lease, and we only need a place to rent for about four months while our house is being built.

*grumblegrumble*

So we turned to townhouses and apartments.

I totally struck out on townhouses. No one called me back. Not a single one. Jerkfaces.

And apartments? Well, all but one of the nice complexes in Cheyenne are low-income, so we make way too much to even be considered. And they're all full anyway.

And the non-income-restricted places? Well there is only one nice, newer complex in town. And it's booked out months in advance. Everywhere else? Run down, outdated... and full.

We did finally get a call back from one complex shortly before we were leaving town on Monday. We went to check out the unit that was becoming available, and... well... there's no way in hell I would allow my children to live there. To put it mildly. It had a very distinct rape-y vibe about it, and I'm pretty sure we would have gotten an infection of some sort from the carpets. We bailed about as quickly and politely as humanly possible!!!

So we left town Monday afternoon totally defeated and dejected and anxious and stressed. Yes, we found a house for our family, yay! But we lacked a place to live until then... un-yay.

Monday night after we got home I went into OCD mode. I google'd every rental option imaginable in the Cheyenne area, and then branched out to the surrounding areas as well. I did find a cute little house in Cheyenne that was available, but the owners were assholes, and after several conversations with them I chose to walk away. You can only take so many times of someone reiterating that they are looking to benefit themselves and not to help you out before you want to tell them to fuck off!

So after numerous phone calls, e-mails, and mini-panic attacks, I am pleased to announce we finally have a short-term rental lined up for when we get down there. It's a cute two-bedroom (plus a sunroom) apartment that'll suffice until our house is done. Not my ideal situation to be back in apartment mode, but whatever. It's temporary.

The first catch? Because we're doing a non-conventional lease, we're paying more per month. To be paying this much for a two-bedroom apartment boggles my mind, but I'm letting it go.

The second catch? It's in Fort Collins.

As in Colorado.

As in 40 miles from Cheyenne!!!

Looks like we're commuting for a while.

*sigh*

Anyone think to bring a parachute?

So yesterday afternoon was "hanging on in quiet desperation".

Today?

Spiraling into a pit of gloom with nary a 'chute in site.

Never felt as connected to Wile E. Coyote as I do today

Everything was just smooth sailing so far. The Husband got the amazing job. Our house sold in one day. We found the house we want to buy down there. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?

Nope.

Not even close.

First, late yesterday afternoon we realized that our real estate agent had screwed up and that we weren't going to be getting back the amount of money from the sale of this house that we had been told and had been banking on as part of the down payment for the Cheyenne house.

Cue the panic.

Then, we find out that while we are "technically" pre-approved, we need to "take care of the medical debt".

Erm.... excuse you? What medical debt?!?

Seven years ago we spent the summer up in Alaska (long story, maybe someday I'll tell it) and while we were there The Husband got severe kidney stones. Well we didn't have insurance at the time, so we walked away with over $30,000 in medical debt. 

Yes kids, 30k. 

Hooray for the American medical system, amiright?

Well over the next few years I worked my ass off to chip away at it, and as of when we bought our house almost two years ago, everything had been paid off or forgiven. No medical debt in sight.

So what the hell happened?!?

I have no freaking clue. This debt popped back up on our credit recently, and we have no idea why. It should have been taken care of years ago, it wasn't on there until recently even though it lists it as being from seven years ago, and the biggest problem is when The Husband called to get it straightened out, the people handling it were complete assholes. And continue to be.

We have been trying in good faith to get it squared away, and they're just being bullies. It's unnecessary. 

We called you. You didn't call us, we called you in an effort to get this taken care of. And yet you're going to be dickwads about it?!?

*grumblegrumblegrumble*

So after a fury of phone calls and scrambling, it looked liked we had gotten everything straightened out. Our agent fixed the issue, so we will still end up getting the amount we had been assured, which was a huge relief. Then the Alaska debt people seemed willing to play ball, and it looked like that was going to be taken care of. 

We went to bed last night feeling like things were back in place.

And then this morning?

Fuck my life.

Everything fell to shit again, and I'm doing everything in my power to not lose my mind and flop in a heap on the floor and cry hysterically. I don't know whether I'm angry or sad or what, my emotions are all jumbled right now.

While we are still going to get the money out of our house, there may not be the Cheyenne house we want after all. The builders won't accept a contingency-based offer, so we can't even offer on the house until our Washington house closes, which is in July. So we may miss out entirely before then. 

*fingers crossed our house closes early!*

On top of that, the deal we thought we had worked out with the Alaska debt people was thrown back at us. I'm sorry, but anyone who refuses to put anything in writing?!? Shady as hell. Bottom line. I don't know what the deal is with this company, but they are not operating on any sort of proper and professional level. I'm seeing a lawyer in our future, because I don't trust these people!

So as of right now, I have no idea where we stand. We are flying down to Cheyenne next week, and the original plan was to make the official offer on the house down there and get the kids' schools figured out and all that.

Now?

*shrug*

We can't offer on the house until this house closes. And our financing won't go through until this debt thing is squared away (which is stupid, because we have really good credit, and clearly this randomly posted debt isn't affecting our ability to pay AT ALL, but whatevs. Yay bullshit government red tape.)

So we're stuck.

I'm at a loss. What do you do when life is out of your control? What do you do when people are being stubborn asshats and needlessly digging their heels in (even though it does them no good and they are clearly the ones in the wrong), simply because they want to be difficult? I don't understand it. 

Sometimes it sucks being an optimist, because then you're even more crushed when people act like douchecanoes. (Worse than a douchebag, less interesting than a douchewaffle)

So now when we fly down to Cheyenne next week, I guess we plan on seeing rental houses instead? There's no telling how quickly this will all be settled, and I'm sorry, but I'm not cramming my kids into an apartment. I can't even fathom that right now.

I still know that moving down there is a good move, I'm not doubting that. I just had a sneaking suspicion that things were going TOO easily. 

I hate that I was right.

So about that parachute...

"Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way..."

So life has been... hectic lately. To say the least.

That whole 'preparing to move halfway across the country while simultaneously trying to maintain the rest of my life responsibilities' thing.

You know. No biggie, right?

Of course right.

So the first big part of this last week (or the only truly news-worthy part, anyway) is that... WE SOLD OUR HOUSE!!!!

Inoright?!?

It was listed for a whole four hours, which is nuts. All I can say is thank God for a seller's market!

And the fact that we've owned it for 20 months and managed to make a profit? Amazing. Granted, we're not walking away millionaires by any means, but still. That's a major obstacle that we can take off our To Do list, and that's a huge sigh of relief!

(Of course, now we have to find a new place to live... 1800 miles away... no prob, right?... right?!?)

Beyond that, trying to balance my end-of-the-quarter school craziness, the kids' end-of-the-school-year chaos, keeping my house from spiraling into a tsunami of clutter, and not having a mental breakdown in the process has been... tricky at best.

Who's idea was this again?

Mine!?

Oh that's right.

Crap.

The irony of accidentally ending up moving halfway across the country... Only I could manage something like that.

Overall, I am getting excited about the move. Stressed beyond belief. Losing weight. Losing sleep. Overwhelmed and slightly panicky. But excited nonetheless!

I think it will be fun to see a new part of the country, to explore places I wouldn't otherwise get to see as easily, and to make new memories and share this experience with my kids (although my daughter has convinced herself that a posse of rattlesnakes is awaiting her, and I can't convince her otherwise!) I am looking forward to the opportunities and adventures awaiting us in Cheyenne.

I'm also wishing I could Go-Go-Gadget Magic Packing Machine my house.

Home, home on the range...???

So things have been... interesting around here, so say the least. Remember awhile back when I mentioned that pesky gypsy wind was wreaking havoc with my status quo?

Well she came back.

In gale force.

And my life is about to be turned completely upside down.

Let me explain.

So back when I wrote that blog post, I had been searching and applying The Husband for jobs for several months. He has been unhappy with his current employer for awhile now, ever since they made some, shall we say, douche-y decisions. So I started looking around the greater Seattle area.

Local city governments, school districts, hospitals, major businesses, small businesses, utility companies, you name it I checked it out.

Now, The Husband has been in the IT industry for over 15 years now, and in probably any other part of the country that experience and expertise would be in demand. But not in Seattle.

IT people are a dime a dozen around here, and employers either want the entry-level tech who will work for $12 an hour, or someone who holds three Master's and two Doctorate's. There's nothing in between. Combine that with the fact that Boeing is getting ready to do a major layoff of thousands- yes, thousands- of IT people, and the odds become stacked even more against you.

So I branched out.

San Francisco. Portland. British Columbia.

More of the same. Too few jobs being competed for by too many overly qualified IT people.

I even devised a hair-brained scheme to move to the incredibly beautiful but incredibly tiny town of Joseph, Oregon. Why? Because it's pretty. Are there jobs there? NOPE! Their industry dried up years ago, so unless you are an established small-business owner, you're out of luck.

This is where the culmination of my frustration turned into the blog post about wanting the gypsy wind to take me away.

All I can say is, be careful what you wish for!

Shortly after that, my aunt suggested looking at the hospital in her city. She had heard they were hiring for IT, and sure enough, they were! So I applied The Husband, assumed it would be more of the same, and forgot all about it.

Until they called. And I began to panic.

Because the hospital where my aunt lives?

It's in Cheyenne. As in WYOMING.

Yeah...

Fast forward to today, and my life sits on this giant precipice above a gnarling torrent of chaos.

That sounds a bit dramatic, eh? But it's so true. The offer that the hospital presented to The Husband was... incredible, to say the least. Too good to turn down. Husband gave his current employer a chance to counter the offer, and they did. However, the counter offer was nothing more than a token gesture, and was actually a bit insulting when you consider that he has given them his blood, sweat, and tears over the years.

So we're moving halfway across the country.

I don't think it has fully sunk in yet. It seems surreal to me. And let's just say that no one is really taking it well. My family isn't speaking to me. Husband's family is split- some are excited for us, some are pissed. Our friends are all heartbroken, but they have all promised to come visit regularly. And naturally we will be back up here to visit as well.

But still. It's a huge move. And it's scary, and sad. But it's also a really good thing.

By the way, did you know that Wyoming has antelope?!?

Ooops

So you know that saying "Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it"?

Yeeeeaaaahhhh....

Clearly I didn't take it seriously enough!

I can't really get into specifics, because nothing has actually come of it yet, so until something more firm is in place and decisions are made, there really isn't any point in getting people all riled up.

It's just weird how things work out. The timing, the unexpectedness, the fact that when you want something to happen, it won't, and when you truly believe something isn't going to happen, it does.

It's like Alanis said. Life has a funny way...

So I suddenly find myself with a lot of information to wade through, a lot of potential decisions to make, and a lot of unknowns. And in case you missed that memo: I don't like unknowns!

Predicability is good for me. Routine and normalcy are my friends. And I'm about to throw all that down the drain willingly!

No offense, but you suck as a person

First of all, I just wanted to say that I'm in a much better headspace today. I spent a few days bouncing around inside my brain, and quite frankly, it's a dark and scary place in there!

Lorelei understands

But I've emerged, none worse for the wear.

Granted, I'm still nervous and anxious about Friday, but not in a fetal-position-whimpering-reassuringly-whispering-to-myself kind of way. More in a "alright, fine, let's just do the damned thing" kind of way.

So here we are. Tuesday. Under-caffeinated. Coming down with a cold. Behind in this week's school work. Could really go for a nap.

But instead, I'm going to vent for a sec, then go back to reading about Hinduism for my World Religion's class.

So ever have one of those friends that seem great at first, but then the more you get to know them and the more they come around, the more you realize you actually don't like them as a human being and their presence makes you want to rip your face off?

Yeah.

I'm having that sort of thing happening right now.

Only it's not my friend, it's The Husband's friend.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those jealous, controlling harpies that's just pissed her man is hanging out with someone other than her. No, no.

Even my husband has grown weary of this friend.

See, here's the situation...

So for awhile, this friend was married and doing the whole work/family/spouse thing, and we saw them maybe every two or three months. And that was totally fine. They seemed pleasant enough, and we had a good time hanging out (besides the fact that their children were horribly behaved and would never leave my house without having destroyed something first, and the wife couldn't hold a conversation, which was challenging).

Then, as their marriage deteriorated, we saw them less and less, until finally they separated. Then we only saw this friend occasionally when he was passing through town- again, probably once every couple of months.

This once-every-few-months trend continued for quite some time, until the guy's dating life in his home town quickly dried up (partly because it's already slim pickings to begin with in such a small town, and partly because, well, turns out he's not so pleasant...but we'll come to that). Once the dating scene no longer had anything (or, anyone) to offer him, he began venturing over to our neck of the woods more and more.

Once a month.

Once every three weeks.

Now it's once every other week, sometimes more.

(And he's planning to move over here soon... sweet baby Jesus, help me)

Somewhere along the way, this trend developed where this friend would stop by on his way either in or out of town and I'd end up making dinner for him.

Then it quickly turned into an assumption that on his way back home every weekend he could stop by our house and get a free meal and a bottle of wine.

And then this past weekend, he showed up with all of his kids in tow- not having given us a heads up that all of them would be here, mind you- and assumed that I'd feed everyone.

I was...displeased, to say the least. On top of which, when he got here he dumped his kids off (without consulting me first) to go to the store to get wine (of course) and within five minuted of his children being here I was having to clean up pee in the guest bathroom because his children still can't seem to hit the toilet (and trust me, they are old enough to know better) (but at least this time they didn't pee in the corner of a room, or in the sink, or the garbage can, or a potted plant, or on each other... I kid you not...)

Anyway, I think that all of this- the assumptions, the taking for granted, the feeling slightly walked over- would be tolerable, except for this lovely little personality quirk that The Husband and I began to notice a couple of months ago.

The friend seems to live in this delusional, ironic world where he feels totally justified in making comments and offering advice on any and all topics, and meanwhile his life is an epic tornado of chaos and filth.

Erm...Seriously?!?

He has tried to give me parenting advice on how to teach my youngest son manners (which you just don't do, ask any parent!) all the while his children, as mentioned above, have no concept of manners, are barely potty trained when they are far too old to still be having issues with that, haven't been taught to wash their hands, shower, or have any sort of personal hygiene, and tear through anywhere they enter like it's a free-for-all bouncy house.

And really dude, you want to give me advice on how to teach my two year-old how to remember to say please and thank you?!? Are you kidding me?!? Step off, bro.

And not being biased, but my two year-old has better manners than any of your children, so focus on your own brood and keep your trap shut.

On top of this, he asks constantly if I'm still working out regularly (none of your freaking business, why do you care?), tells me that I need to not let my oldest son eat so much or else he'll be a fat kid (even though he's skinny as a rail and incredibly active, and this friend's kids are all pudgy), comments about and questions my husband's and my eating habits (even though this friend has gained quite a bit of weight lately, literally cannot cook, and wouldn't know a vegetable or whole grain if it hit him in the face), and constantly makes these snarky, belittling digs at my husband, which really pisses me off.

But the worst part?

This friend likes to throw around how much money he makes. Constantly. Like, any chance he gets to bring it up, he will.

He's also totally taking advantage of my husband (or trying at least), yet he acts like he's doing us this huge favor by hanging around.

All of it adds up to a total lack of tact, humility, and self-awareness. And I'm just done dealing with it.

I told my husband I don't want this guy coming around for awhile, because I'm sick of his shit. When he was here this past weekend, I literally had the urge to punch him in his smug face.

I can step back and psychologize the situation and see that this friend is genuinely unhappy in his life, and therefore is probably trying to tear us down in order to make himself feel better. But it's unnecessary, inappropriate, and I'm done dealing with it.

He's not God's gift to the business world.

He's not God's gift to the dating world.

I'm sorry, but he's not all that great as an overall person.

With him being suddenly so involved in our lives, I've realized (as has my husband) that he's not a very nice person after all. No wonder his wife was so miserable! If he makes these comments to me, I can only imagine the misogynistic crap he threw her way.

Bye bye gluten...?

So, I'm not gonna lie... I'm having a hard day today.

This is the week of my colonoscopy/endoscopy, and I'm starting to get really nervous.

I have absolutely no appetite. In fact, food is repulsing me. I can't focus on school. My thought processes are disjointed, as if I had a ton of caffeine, only I haven't.

I don't know why I'm so freaked out. I genuinely don't think they're going to find cancer. I don't.

But I think it's the other spectrum of possibilities that is beginning to weigh on me.

On the one end of this spectrum, it could be absolutely nothing and they could send me home saying "You're fine, we don't know why you feel like crap all the time, too bad, good luck". And I'll have had a somewhat invasive procedure done for nothing.

On the other end (minus the cancer option, of course), they could find a ton of polyps, or precancerous lesions, or, I don't know, gremlins. I could have celiac's, or an ulcer, which would be perfectly deal-with-able if not slightly inconvenient. I don't know what other options are for what they'll find, and quite frankly, I'm purposely not looking it up because I don't want to scare myself.

I'm also full-on dreading the prep I have to do for the procedure. Namely drinking a gallon of disgusting laxatives and then... well... you know... dealing with that. *yay me!*

I just don't like the unknown, and this is one big unknown.

Having done a little research into celiac's, it is a fairly decent contender for explaining my symptoms. Apparently, 1 in 133 Americans have celiac's disease, and only something like 5 percent even know it. However, because the definition and diagnosis for celiac's is so narrow, tons of people have all the same symptoms and yet fail to technically have the full blown autoimmune disease. They're still working out the definition and diagnosis for gluten intolerance, or gluten allergy, or gluten sensitivity- whatever it will end up being called. Either way, avoiding gluten makes it all better for both groups of people, and I've been considering doing a trial run of going gluten-free, to see if it helps, even if I don't come back as officially having celiac's.

This of course poses a whole other conundrum of changing out my entire diet. I love me some bread and pasta, I've never been one of those carb-free girls. Carbs be good, dammit! But now I will have to switch things out and start researching foods and recipes...it could be fun! It's also adding to my stress though, because that's just the mental space I am in right now.

My husband's coworker has celiac's, and she's a total foodie and has a million cookbooks and recipes, so I think I'm going to hit her up for info and advice.

And until then... I'm going to try and eat something. An apple and two bites of oatmeal does not suffice!