Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Happiness, Gratitude, Loss, and Some Hair Pulling.

A Happy Saint Pat's To Ya!!!! Pinches to all who are not wearing the green.

Well, it's a good day today, I'm finally feeling better, and I love my life. I love my Scott, and my son, and my home, and I'm falling in love with my new kitten Ruby Dee, the rubber band girl. Things are looking up.

I'm about to go out to buy worms for Beau's leopard Geckos. I can't believe the paraplegic gecko is still living, and the vet would have had us put her to sleep. She seems fine, we just had to get her her own cave so she wouldn't fight with her pal, put her worms right in front of her, and keep her water nearby. She pulls herself around by her front legs.

I attacked my face today so it's looking pretty sore and irritated. I used a warm wash cloth to open my pores and then used this blackhead extractor (sorry if that's too grossly personal). I'm never sure if this is helpful or harmful, but I'd rather do it myself than have some facialist do it. It hurts so much more when it's someone else.

I bought a new gel wrist rest for my keyboard and a new mouse pad. I have a lot of mice pads but if they don't have the wrist rest my wrist hurts. I need to install my new keyboard and mouse but I'm such a procrastinator it just never gets done.

Beau is off with his blech, father, somewhere. I feel guilty saying anything bad about him, but the more distance I put between us, the more life I live without him, the more I realize how badly he and his family treated me, and the stronger I get. I had a bad night a little less than a week ago. I woke up crying and had this overwhelming sense of missing him. I cried myself to sleep and he showed up in my dreams.

I get confused sometimes about whether he really was/is such a jerk, or whether I've demonized him to get over the pain of how we ended things, the pain of the loss of a life partner. He has been making overtures for years, first wanting to get back together, then wanting to just be friends, go to the movies, etc., but when I contemplate having any kind of relationship with him, it sickens me. He has been so unbelievably uncaring and selfish since our breaking up, never offering any kind of help with his own son, leaving me in total heart wrenching pain and doing nothing about it, not even returning my calls when I would call crying and asking for some kind of closure or understanding, yet I hang on to the tiny decencies and make more of them than they are, the flowers on Mother's day he gave me one year, and I can't remember another, but I know there were some minor kindnesses. I turned over the divorce paperwork to our attorney, I just couldn't get myself to do it. This way it will get done and I will be free to move on with my life.

Saida's son Freddy is here, he's growing up so fast. He came in to thank me for his Game Boy Advanced and the game I gave him, and he was wearing cologne, Cool Water. He took chinchilla to play in his room. Chinchie needs to get out more so I'm glad.

Beau was supposed to call his Dad last night and tell him that he would have a friend until two today and to pick him up then, but of course he forgot, even though he promised he would call. When Robby showed up at noon, Beau panicked and came running up the stairs to my room. He's kind of like an animal in that way, venturing farther and farther away, then running to home base for safety. My rats do that when I take them out to play. They pick a spot close to me that feels safe, then begin their explorations from there. If anything startles them they quickly beat it back to home base.

I'm sure the kids stayed up all night playing because as soon as they got here, Steven fell asleep, and has been sleeping ever since. I told Beau to let Steven sleep and to go out with his dad for a couple of hours. When Steven woke up we told him Beau would be right back so he went up to Beau's room and passed out there. I'm not looking forward to being Mom to a grouchy tired Beau tonight, especially because this is my favorite TV night.

Oh wait, I forgot a story, Steven and his Mom had a fight, probably about cleaning his room or something and Steven told her to, "Shut up Bitch." He's only eleven. Can you imagine? I'm pretty liberal and permissive but there is no way on this Earth that Mr. Beau would say something like that to me, nunh unh. Whooooo no, no, no, no, no! After he said that, Beth slapped him across the head, then he hit her back and they started fighting like siblings, hair pulling and everything. She took him to her Mother's, then later he called her and asked to come back home and they made up. I feel so sorry for both of them. I asked Steven about it and he said, 'Yeah I said that, but you don't know how mean she was being."

Oh and that reminds me of another story, a sad one. We, (Beau, Steven, and I), were shopping for school supplies and things at Long's Drugs a couple of days ago, and there was this nice lady I kept running in to on every aisle. She was big like me, and African American, or a person of color, or black, or whatever I'm supposed to say that is loving and not hurtful. I only mention it because it was part of what was beautiful about her, maybe that sounds prejudiced in some way but I don't mean it to be. There has to be some room for loving people because of their color. I mean maybe someone would someday think I'm cool just because of my vibe, or my green eyes, dark hair, pale skin, and freckles, they'd just be loving my ancestors really, and the Irish/Italian in me, and that would be okay, so why isn't it okay to love someone because they're black? I thought she was beautiful, so there.

Anyway we kept running in to her. She was buying storage boxes and having massive amounts of storage box experience I was giving her advice. I heard her say she was looking for just the right kind of box to put her daughters things away. She wanted to keep all of her little dolls, music boxes and things safe forever. Her daughter had died, cancer, fucking cancer. Oh my God how sad. We talked for a long time about life after death, communicating with people who've passed on through dreams, the loss of a child and how devastating it is, her faith in God. She was so beautiful in so many ways and it was hard to let a brief experience with a passing stranger come to an end. Beau used to have a hard time with this. We'd meet a nice waitress in a restaurant on the road when we were traveling, and when he realized that we may never come through here again he would cry and say, "Mom I can't stand that I will never get to see my new friend again." Loss, separation, letting go, it's all so hard.


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