Choosing How To Live

~~I wrote the following on July 10, 2006~~
Why is it so hard to decide how to live?

Every year or two my husband and/or I go through an instinctual urge to move. Whether it stems from our childhoods or is some part of our animal nature I am unsure, but I do know it probably won't go away -not soon anyway. When we married we moved two weeks later. Then I wanted to move out to a rural location. So we tried a small town. While living there we tried starting an intentional community then my husband was in a car accident and he decided he didn't want us commuting anymore. SO we moved back into the city. Now we are feeling a little itchy about the feet again.

~~end of draft~~

I can only assume I was going to continue along those lines go on to explain the different life choices that affect living arrangements and how ones place of residence can have an effect on your life. And how that all is reflected in our life, my life in the here and now. Little did I know (or perhaps I knew but hadn't externalized it yet) this was the lead-up to my life changing rather dramaticly.

Ever the one to want people to rethink how they are living and make life choices free of what others tell you your supposed to do. I have been encouraging my husband to think about what/how he makes career choices. To look at how he would choose to work. Work outside the box so to speak. Then we went on vacation and he remembered a little bit about who he was outside of the harsh 'work' light he's been under for so long and we searched for ideas about how we might live and what else he could do for that never loving dollar. Nothing seemed appropriate till.... drum roll please.... buda buda buda buda

I opened my big mouth. Anything I say can be questionable at the best of times anything I say after midnight should be kept at arms distance. This unfortunately popped out of my mouth and has swung back and hit like a two-by-four. A simple little "You could open a ---- store" to which his starving brain clung to and has suckled on for weeks now. I am so happy and excited for him to have found something he actually wants to do. Something that excites him and would allow him time to write.

The slamming in the face by the two by four part comes in only when you figure in the part of the plan that involves us selling the house and moving. I can deal with the selling of the house. What I can't deal with is the moving to a small city far far away from all our people. OK it's only something like 5-6 hours away but it hurts my heart knowing I will be losing so many people. I don't think I'm known for my weeping or emotional outbursts, but I have been walking around this / / close to tears for the last month or so. I feel I have finally found a group of families that are supportive, interesting, fun and most importantly haven't balked at the inane crap that comes out of my mouth sometimes.

I have been feeling very comfortable and alive for the last several months, in a way I haven't felt in a long time. I'm pretty much at peace. I don't want to risk losing it. Unfortunately I'm not enough of a bitch to make my husband work unhappily along while I live off the proceeds of his soul. Stupid fucking 'fair and peaceful' outlook on life, it would be so much easier to just say "Now Dear don't be silly and take risks with our lives. Go back to work and be happy we have food on our table."

So here I am stuck with the impossible decision of leaving our friends and family behind but having a happier husband -soul intact- or keeping the friends and family and offering up my loves mental and emotional health to the GodMoney. Fucking Ideals can be so hard to live with sometimes. If not for the children it would not be a hard choice but when your looking at how this would effect their lives... Who can see the future?

~~Wrote this a long while back and didn't have time to edit. I'm not sure of the date that will show up so I thought I would offer the plausible date being sometime late August perhaps early September.~~ Cleaning out the drafts so I can get past them and start posting again. ;-D

Going Out Dancing

A bit of history to start.

I spent most of my early adult life dancing in pubs, bars, clubs, concerts, and gig's. Basically any where I could find music and a place to dance. Didn't drink much considering I was spending weeknights at the local bar -a bit of a dive but I often had the dance floor to myself, a fairly appreciative audience, and I could walk home- and weekends farther a field with friends. I particularly loved what was termed "hardcore night" at one of the local etablishments. Good music Ministry, Ramstein, NIN, cure, Alice in Chians, that sort of thing. AND mostly everyone danced by themselves. Fabulous idea. I like this song so I'm going to dance. What took so long? Any way the best night I had there was the night I met my Husband.

And well oh crap there he is going off to bed. without warning too. Well I'll send this pathetic start to post just so I have something from today. Well yesterday as it's 1:00 am. Take more time tomorrow.

Why Women Are Evil

Warning: Explicit personal 'girl stuff' follows. :-P

Ok so I have laughed at the commonly circulated email spouting off all the reasons why women are evil. We are evil we ARE out to get all the men and most of the women too. Well... no not really... we are far too busy to take that much time and energy for something so unrealistic. I am thinking of that email though because one of the reasons quoted is something along the lines of "What other animal can bleed for a week and survive?".

Which brings me to my reason for posting. How much can one woman bleed in a frigging 12 hour period let alone the whole week? I am so pissed off right now. Every 3-6 months I have a blowout knock-em-dead cycle that makes me think perhaps a diaper would be a good idea. A few years ago I bled through an OB ultra, a super absorbent night time pad, my undies, my jammies, the blanket on our bed, two sheets, a mattress pad, and I'm guessing halfway through the frigging mattress. As I sat quietly reading for 30 - 45 minutes thinking all was well. I mean for fuck sakes you would think doubling up protection should last longer then oh say four hours.

I have always had the odd bleedout. In grade 9 I thought I might be starting my period and quietly sat with my hand up to ask to use the loo. Big burly -hot- substitute teacher asked me to wait the 5 min. till class ended. I couldn't very well say "Um actually I think I'm bleeding could I go now?". Well I suppose I could have and would maybe say something along those lines now if caught by some strange occurrence in the same situation. At the time though I was barely used to the idea myself let alone having other people especially a *boy* know about *that*. Did I mention *HE* was hot? The teacher I mean. SO I sat there wondering if the heat I felt was blood moving continuously or just that first spot.

Long story short I wrecked that pair of jeans. My friends though were beside themselves wondering why I didn't know, feel it happening, or seemingly have a clue I was bleeding through my jeans. At the time it didn't occur to me that most of them had barely bled as much as I could in a day during their entire cycle.

Well now that I have that off my chest... I have had remarkably easy pregnancies. Childbirth has gone well -except for the bitch GP I had for the first birth. If an over exuberant uterus gets me perfect babies and enjoyable childbirth well I suppose I'll live with it. And that Bitch of a GP led me to discover midwives so I guess I won't spend too much energy loathing her. Every thing seems to have it's place in life even the unpleasant things. I would just like NOT to bleed on my favorite clothes or the furniture. I would rather not have it come in gushes. AND I would like my body to alert me in some way "YO! HEY THERE! You're going to have a flood this month OK! You listening to me. Don't plan on leaving the house for 24 - 72 hours till this thing calms down." That way I could... I don't know... find a good book... book a babysitter and eat more iron rich foods for a few days. You know prepare for the red tide.