Confused Woman!

You know how it is when you first start dating.  Everything is great….the conversation, the nights out, the sex…all amazing…and then it happens…the first fight.

It happened this weekend.  Initially, everything was good.  Friday night was wonderful.  We had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and were able to sit outside on their patio, which is a rare treat in Minnesota at the end of September.

Saturday morning was nice as well.  Despite the rain, we managed to fit in almost 90 minutes of tennis.  We had a good workout and an even better time.  Then the evening came.

I arrived at his house in the late afternoon after a productive, yet relaxing day, all excited to see him.  It started out fine, despite him being on call and working on a Saturday night.  We were joking around when the joking went too far.  You see, we’re both extremely sarcastic people which works well sometimes, but not so well at other times.  This time it caused a fight.

The sarcasm turned to hurt feelings which turned into an argument.  After some time, he apologized and everything was good in his world.  However, on my end, I was still upset.  This lasts another couple of hours until we are both at a place to talk about it.

It’s the shock of the “perfect” image of your boyfriend getting shattered that brings you back to reality.  At first, everything is great and we forget we’re human and have our good days/bad days, good emotions/bad emotions.  They have no flaws, until you’re painfully introduced to the flaws.

However, if you can put up with the not-so-great and appreciate all their good qualities, you’ve found the right person and a real relationship.  At least that’s what Dear Abby used to say.

Yes, this is my favorite time of the year.  School has begun, the leaves begin to change, and my air conditioning bill dwindles.  It’s also time for football, which I’m obsessed with watching.

For me, nothing beats plopping down on the couch on the weekend with a big bowl of chili, watching a game while the cool, crisp air blows through the windows.  It reminds me of growing up with my Dad and Grandpa intently watching the games while drinking cheap beer and fanning away the cigar smoke to see the television screen.  Ahhh…the good old days.

Fall is the time when I think back fondly on the summer and dread the coming of winter.  If I could have fall year-round, I would.  It’s not too hot, not too cold…like the porridge, it’s perfect.

What’s your favorite season?  Don’t worry…if you say winter, I won’t think you’re too insane.

Last night I was watching “The Real Housewives of Miami”.  Yes, I clearly have no life.  This is my form of entertainment.  As the nauseating parade of expensive cars, homes, and jewels flashes on the television screen, I’m thinking, “Who’s reality is this?”

Of course, if they filmed my reality (or any other single mother’s reality), it would be a stark contrast to what’s portrayed as “real” on TV.  First of all, it wouldn’t be called the “Real Housewives”.  It would be titled, “The Real Single Mom’s Rental Townhouse and Nine to Five Job in Middle America”.  Not exactly glamorous and sexy.

Next, the cameras would pan past my eight year-old sedan and me striking a pose in my new Kohl’s outfit.  With my daughter holding one hand and groceries dangling from the other, the voice over would say, “Pulled in many directions during the day, but savoring the buy 1 get one free meal at night.”

The episode would unfold with me rushing to get my kid ready for school, cursing at the mustard I squirted on my five year-old shirt while preparing my lunch.  Fast forward to work.  I’m eating said sandwich while discussing the office politics and going over my co-workers latest sad batch of match.com “potentials”.

On the drive home, instead of heading to the spa or country club, I stop by the local Aldi to purchase groceries and redeem my coupon at the gas station for a free soda and chips.  If this isn’t living the dream, I don’t know what is.

So, to those of you “fancy-pants” executives who think that your obnoxious shows are reality, you can kiss my non-liposuctioned, struggling middle-class ass.

I thought on the 12th anniversary of 9/11 I would re-print my blog posting from last year.  Even though many things have changed in my personal life since then, one thing has remained constant: 9/11 forever changed my life and can never be forgotten.  God Bless America.

Yesterday was the 11th anniversary of 9/11.  It was a day that will stick in my mind forever.  I will never forget where I was or what I was doing when the terrorist act happened.  It changed how I lived my life and what I wanted out of life.  It brought me here.

The day was like any other work day.  I went to work downtown and turned on the computer.  Normally I wouldn’t check CNN but for some reason that morning I did.  The site had a picture of one of the towers with a hole in it and smoke/flames coming out.  At the time, no one knew what was going on.  Was it a small airplane that lost its way?  Was there an explosion inside the building?

I attended a training session in the IDS building and went about my day.  During class, people were checking the Internet and kept us up to date on what was occurring.  The hole in the tower was from a commercial airliner.  The second tower has been hit.  One of the towers collapsed.  At this point, the room was filled with terror…what was going on?  Could we be next?

Class was canceled and I ran back to my office.  My now ex-husband left me a message saying I needed to get out of downtown and head home.  The boss said I looked white as a ghost.  We didn’t know it at the time, but one of our co-workers was in Manhattan for training near the towers and narrowly escaped being killed by falling debris.  He saw people jumping from the towers.  The office closed and they told us to go home.

I drove in a complete daze, white-knuckled, looking overhead for planes and listening to the play-by-play on the radio.  When I arrived home, I planted myself in front of the TV and couldn’t move.  We were in complete shock.  How could something like this happen on American soil?  How could anyone be so evil?

That day going forward, I re-examined my life and decided to live every moment like it was my last.  I was in an unhappy marriage and decided to end it.  I moved out on my own and started a new career in the cosmetics field.  When I didn’t enjoy it anymore I became a flight attendant.  I remarried and had a baby.  I began running and tried improv.  I started writing a blog…which brought me to you.

I’ve thought about this a lot lately.  I don’t know if it’s due to the seasonal changes or the fact I’m watching too many reality shows.  It’s been really bad lately.  I’m turning a nice, dark green shade of envy.

It happens several times a day.  I’m driving to work and I see someone next to me in a brand new luxury SUV that cost more than my first house.  Then there’s me next to them in my dusty, eight year-old Grand Am.  Wow, must be nice to be able to have that fancy car.

Then I arrive at work.  I walk past cube after cube full of family photos and all their little cutesy decorations.  Gee, I think, must be nice to have a husband around and be able to decorate beyond a dead plant and an old coffee mug.

At lunch, co-workers discuss weekend plans and upcoming vacations to exotic locales.  Hmmm…well, this weekend I’ll shop at Aldi for groceries and watch re-runs on cable.  Vacations?  Hah!  What’s that?

By the time I leave work, I’m a big ball of green envy goo.  I feel like the Grinch, all cranky at the world.  However, when I arrive at school to pick up my daughter, all is erased for the moment.

To see that smiling face running towards me for a big hug reminds me that I may not have all the fancy things or a husband to go through life with, but I have my beautiful daughter.  That’s worth more than all of that other stuff combined.  But, you know, I wouldn’t exactly turn away the nice stuff either.  😎

Tomorrow is my daughter’s first day of kindergarten.  She is bouncing off the walls today, counting down until the big day.  I, however, am having mixed emotions.

It’s hard to believe that almost six years ago, I brought home my little “peanut”.  At five pounds, six ounces, she was tiny but had the lungs of a cheerleading squad.  I remember the first night in the hospital getting a call from the nurses station.  “Can you please come down and hold your daughter?  She’s waking up all the babies in the nursery.” I’m still amazed at how the moment I picked her up she stopped crying, knowing it was Mama there to comfort her.

From crawling to walking and now non-stop talking, every day is something new.  It’s incredible how much kids learn.  I’m enjoying watching her become a little person, making new friends, slowly becoming more independent.

I’ll be dropping her off at school tomorrow.  As excited as I will be for her, it will be hard for me to contain my tears of joy.  This wonderful little person I’ve been blessed to have in my life is on to bigger and better adventures.  I can’t help but to be proud, thankful every day to have a little piece of heaven with me.