On shifting

It's been bugging me lately that I have this yearning to create a blog entry, but when I go to write one, I CAN'T. I get this great idea for a topic and then POOF! just like that it's gone.

Today it dawned on me: The masthead. It's all wrong. Just like me struggling to go about my daily routine with Jon still in it, this blog still has him in the masthead. See? Up there?

Not only that, you guys, but we no longer have the Sprinter, bless it's heart. Probably went to some electrician, or general contractor, or painter, or courier, or moving company. SOMEWHERE IT BELONGS.

Just like the decision to ditch the Sprinter and finally get a normal family vehicle, I opted to ditch Jon as my husband. Wait. I'm still keeping him on as The Father of My Kids. He's really good at that part. Amazing, even. Not so much in the Emily's Husband role, though.

I'm shedding things over here, you guys. People warned me this happens with divorce. And I'm really thinking I'm starting to believe it. The contract is the first to go. You know, the one that declares this person as your HUSBAND or WIFE? Just a formality? Really? Enjoy it when you get sick of that person you spent however-many years with and want out. And that whole 50% thing? Might be worth paying attention to.

Friends shed like your dog's winter coat. Or that snake skin you find on the vine whilst vintnering (shout out to Molly!). It's amazing how people choose to align with one person or the other, rarely maintaining a balance with both exes. Everyone plays a hearty role in creating this shift in friendships. I've found trusting people I once thought I could to be difficult. If you're friends with Jon, supporting Jon, how can you also, equally, support and help me? And vice versa. You may think you can, say you can even. But I don't buy it. I successfully shoved a pretty good friend away by, well, I'll keep all those dainty details to myself. But see, I clearly needed to shift myself in a different direction than the one I was going. I have found a minute select few who are capable of being friends with both Jon and me. And that group can be shaved down into two more groups: Real and Not So Real. Surface bullshit is no longer a part of any friendship I desire. Being blunt and honest? That's a very strong part of my character. Those who can't handle it, POOF! gone.

There's this thing we call Self Medicating. Are you familiar? Thought so. Being able to shed the need to escape into a bottle of High Life or even Torpedo or Two Hearted and replace it with going to bed when my kids do is a fantastic change. Plus I like to enjoy my beers and not just not just regret having them when I get up in the morning. Ouch.

Part of being married to someone I didn't want to be married to created a lot of conflict within myself. Following the divorce, I continued to maintain a positive relationship "for the kids." Just like that guy Doug from the 80s would say, It's an illusion! I'm all, Wait. Didn't I divorce you? For those reasons? Why are you still here? What am I doing? It's like Sleeping Beauty who was awoken after 100 years of slumber by a simple kiss from her prince. Only I'm waking after 10 years of constantly comparing myself to other wives and mothers, knowing the whole time it didn't feel right. And nobody's kissing me. It's Egan shouting, MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM, CAN YOU WIPE ME?!

It's extremely liberating to focus my energies on my kids, my career, my interests, and me; instead of trying to be someone I'm not with all that pretend stuff in the way.

Now about that masthead...

On self-awareness

I just want to point out that I am working really hard over here on this "self evolving" thing. Do you realize how exhausting it can be, having an awareness of how you choose to live your life? How you choose to react to various stimuli? Did you know you actually have control over all of these things? I know, right?! ME TOO!

And now I'm attempting my next trick by going through life without drinking...a lot.

Learning to fly

Amdist my wracked mothering nerves chased by Zoloft, I find myself slowly but surely grasping the importance of financial stability. I know, right?

As Jon and I were wading through the gunk of divorce, I was all, I'M GONNA GO HERE & I'M GONNA GO THERE...AND THERE...AND, AIRLINE TICKETS? $300? I'M THERE!! NEW SHIRT? SHOES? OUTTA MY WAY, JON!

The financial freedom from Jon's stinginess frugality I was experiencing was overwhelming. In my life I've had only ten years of financial education and that was from Jon. No offense, Mom & Dad, but I wasn't exactly prepared for living a financially responsible existence after leaping from your nest. The one piece of advice I still cling to, with one itty bitty pinky tip - but still, was my dad saying after graduating from high school, "DON'T. GET. A. CREDIT. CARD." 5 simple words I carried with me through my life before meeting Jon.

I find it a miracle I actually listened to my dad's advice. Looking back on my late teens and early twenties I cringe at the thought of carrying as much credit card debt as I did cases of beer, packs of cigarettes, and bags of weed. At least I didn't have a credit card.

Do they need a wheel?

It's funny what I find myself daydreaming about throughout the day. The most common thought is What am I Going to Make for Dinner. What's even more amusing is the energy I have while contemplating my choices. Do I actually want to cook? Because by the time I finish my schlepping to this kid activity or that, all I want to do is sit on my Big Comfy Couch, read the paper, and drink a beer.

That's when the image of the kids being in a hamster cage lined with wood shavings, an affixed water bottle, and a bowl of feed pellets in the corner, takes over.

Value judgment

From my previous post about adults smoking in a kidfilled car with the windows up while talking on a cell phone, I received this reaction:

Judge not. Before you judge yourself. My guess is that the parents in question can look inside your vehicle and find something despicable too. Let's live in peace and harmony! The human species is very resiliant.
(Josh)

Wait. Are you referring to that empty fifth of Thunderbird? I've totally been meaning to throw that out the window and into the ditch on my way home.

Spring is in the air

Almost every song coming up on Pandora sounds to me like a track from Lucious Jackson's Fever In, Fever Out. Is it because around this time of year over 10 years ago I was listening to this album with my stay-in-IC-over-spring-break Airliner friends? Seriously. Spring does something to me. When the sun shines and the birds sing I feel the instinctual need to put on a long skirt, sandals, a tank top, hook up with friends, navigate rural gravels, and, well... Who's with me? Better yet, who WAS with me.

On being duped

I'm thinking I'm beginning to believe our friend Joaquin Phoenix (see previous post) is a far better actor than drug addict. Although who ever said one can't succeed at both simulataneously.

There's been a lot of scrutiny surrounding the antics of Joaquin on Letterman last week. But apparently, have you heard this yet? He's supposedly working on a documentary with buddy Casey Affleck. On what, I'm not sure. My guess is Affleck, co-star from his latest film Gwyneth Paltrow, and a few other close friends and fellow actors are in on the plan. It appears Letterman himself was let in based on the clip of Joaquin taking off his sunglasses and whispering sweet nothings deep into Letterman's ear after what looked like a similar interaction with Farrah Fawcett on Letterman some few years ago.

Everyone says Andy Kauffman would be so proud. Except I don't know much more about Andy Kauffman than he was on Taxi and REM sings a song about him. I'm thinking he pissed off a bunch of people WHO BELIEVED HIS ANTICS. Didn't Jim Carrey do the same thing a few years back in the spirit of ACTING! (insert Jon Lovitz's Master Thespian on SNL circa 1991).

Americans do NOT like being deceived, you guys. Entertainers need to be predictable. Sanitized. Totally censored for us to feel safe. Where would be possibly be without the MPAA and their Disney-esque rating system? Sure, our government can fuck with us for 8 years but NOT our entertainment industry!

Are we expected to believe Phoenix is truly throwing in the silver screen towel and taking up hip hop? Or is it just another extremely talented thespian proving us all a bunch of suckers?

Walkin' the line

This isn't so much about our goings-on, although I'm betting I could come up with a few goodies. This post is about idle times spent staring at the various newswires that suddenly appear on my computer screen. One particular said moment was consumed observing our old friend, little brother to the late River Phoenix, Joaquin Phoenix.

David Letterman attempted to penetrate the bearded mystery man on last night's program. Quite the interesting exchange, wouldn't you say? I'm left wondering which pharmaceutical grade tranquilizer our dear Joaquin is dabbling in these days.

In retrospect, perhaps referring to the fella as "River's little brother" is exactly the reason he's trying to reinvent himself. Apparently while not feeling himself. Literally.

What happens when a mother takes a nap

Due to lack of sleep last night after a raucous night out with wonderfully fun friends, I found myself nestled cozily with Egan napping for two hours at Grandma's house this afternoon. Luckily Molly was available to field Allie and Gil's needs.

Allie & Gil ask, "Molly? Can you help us with something?" leading her toward the kitchen.

From the "adult fridge" in the basement they had pulled two bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade, asking Molly ever so sweetly to help open the bottle caps.

"Let's talk about this" Molly replied, saving their lives yet one more time.

After her discussion on confusing marketing and alcoholic beverages (one I likened to Joe Camel and his illustrated penis nose), Gil announced, "I don't want to be drunk at this age!"

I was left pondering the possibilities had they figured out the bottle opener.