The task that i cannot stomach

I enjoy cleaning. I know it’s surprising—and not often thought of as a recreational activity. And it’s not that I clean for fun. In fact, sometimes the task appears daunting before I begin. However, there is something so satisfying after the cleaning is complete; there you are, sitting in a house with a sparkling bathroom, shining floors, dust-free bookshelves and an empty laundry basket. I find it peaceful, soothing and relaxing.

I’m not afraid of cleaning either. Give me cobwebs and inches of dust—the kerchief goes on the hair, the broom comes out and the spiders scatter, no problem. Show me an oven buried in grease and within seconds it will be giving way to my comet and elbow grease. Even a bathroom devoured by mold is an unintimidating foe. I am mold’s worst enemy—and I have many witnesses of roommates and mission companions who can testify. No sweat, I will have that bathroom whiter than white with the mold ne’er to return—as long as I’m around. But, put one Tupperware full of casserole that has seen better days in front of me, and I will instantly go queasy.

By queasy I mean that my face will drain of all blood, my head will start spinning and my stomach will try to regurgitate any scrap it can squeeze out. I think it’s trying to prove that even my resurrected lunch is more appetizing than what is contained in that Tupperware. By the way, all of this happens before I even open the lid of the container.

Why can I face such nastiness in other places without flinching and then turn to jelly with one squishy peach in the fridge? I have decided that the issue is not the mold or even the smell. After all, moldy showers don’t bother me and I have smelled toilets that were beyond pungent. It is the location, pure and simple. Something so foul should not be allowed to habitat the place where food is prepared, served and eaten.

I have missed the companionship of a husband beyond explanation since this divorce. I miss it when I come home to an empty house. I miss it when I go to a party and I am the only spouseless person in the room. I miss it when I wake up in the morning to an empty bed. However, there is NO TIME I miss it more than when I have to clean out the fridge.

Since I dread this task so much, I put it off as long as humanely possible. One Tupperware gets stacked in a corner of a shelf as soon as it is questionable. Soon, a container of cottage cheese that must be nearing its expiration date gets added to the pile. After that, a tomato looking a little too soft. Slowly, the pile grows—casserole upon soup next to dried out spaghetti. The dubious food takes over its own shelf, kept away from the rest of the fridge to avoid contamination and spreading. Eventually, the fateful day arrives—the day I run out of clean Tupperware. At this point, there is nothing left to do but attack the pile with full force.

Watching me clean out the fridge would be quite an entertaining experience. It is no small feat—especially considering the fact that my kitchen has no garbage disposal. I start by layering on as many pairs of gloves as I own. With an apron and a “flu mask” in place, I gag my way through each container, trying not to dwell on the contents. Expletives fly freely from my mouth—I swear it holds back the vomit. When the offending food is fully removed from the Tupperware (by a plastic utensil to avoid one more filthy item to scrub) the garbage must be disposed of as soon as possible. I always make sure to hold the garbage bag as far away from the body as my arm can reach—I know what is squishing around in that bag. To finish, I scour everything, the Tupperware, sink and fridge shelf with bleach until my nose hairs are singed.

The solution to the problem? Unless I have someone else to cook for, I have given up cooking. It’s not that I am lazy. It’s not that I am depressed about cooking only for myself. It’s not that I want to eat fast food. It’s not even that I don’t enjoy cooking, because I do! I simply know that no matter what, I will NEVER finish that soup, that head of lettuce, that roast, or that lasagna by myself. The leftovers will sit there in the fridge, gathering bacteria and laughing at me as they start to fuzz.

Reality

Spring cleaning started at my house. The problem? i just moved in, it's only me living there AND i am slightly obsessed with cleaning. In other words, i had to dig pretty deep to find something to organize/clean. i attacked my storage boxes with a vengeance. That put me organizing and digging through old memories including pictures, ticket stubs and, most of all, letters. Binders upon binders of letters that we had sent each other. Basic Training, Advanced Training. Semester abroad. Deployment. Mission. Deployment again.

i was "shockingly cavalier" about the letters...even flipped through and read some of them. i realized that some of the things in my boxes really needed to be returned to the ex. Since i work for a shuttle company, i decided to just shuttle down the letters and memories that rightly belonged to him.

Of course life has to be complicated and the box didn't end up where it was supposed to go when it was supposed to go and a couple of coworkers ended up getting involved. Both of them, dear friends of mine, expressed curiosity over what was heading down in the box ("venomous snakes? the ashes that were once your wedding dress?" etc). When i explained, both had similar reactions.

One said, "Wow! All those letters. People just don't have that these days. What you had was so romantic. i can't believe that with all of that in your past, you are not together. It seems like it all belongs in a movie." The other, "It would be the end all if you end up back together. All those letters and all those past stories and then a time apart. Imagine if there was a reconciliation. A 'Love Triumphs and Conquers All' kind of moment. It would be ridiculously romantic and over-the-top dramatic."

i think that is what the ex thinks too. But here is the truth.

i don't want a fairytale. i don't want a "rom-com." i don't want to be swept away with love notes, promises, roses and grand gestures. i don't want dramatic reunions in airports and public displays of affection. i don't want the past. i don't want a "happy ending" because i don't believe in the kind of endings that come in movies and books...in "happily ever afters."

i would like to be whole and happy in and of myself.

And if there ever is a man, i would like him to be whole and happy in and of himself.

He would be someone who compliments me, not someone who completes me. Not someone who needs me to be complete. i would love someone who would say "This is it. This is who i am. It's all out here on the table" from the very get-go. Who sees me as i am too, my divorced baggage and all. We would both know that life is hard; it's not a fairytale. It's not all picnics and vacations and sunshine and snuggling and picture perfect movie moments.

Those who know me know that i have always been a hopeless romantic. But not this time. i may be a romantic, but i am also strong. Stronger than i ever knew.

i don't want a romantic story. i want reality.

After all, this is not a movie; this is my life.

Finding joy in the now

On New Years i made a resolution to love life. In order to figure out how to be happier, i contemplated unhappiness...i considered times in the past when i was joyful...i recalled that even when i was in "the thralls of marital bliss" i sometimes still struggled with staying positive. Marcel Pagnol, a French novelist and playwright, once said:

The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is and the future less resolved than it will be.

This quote is now plastered all over my calendar, my journal and post-its at work.

Here is how i have enjoyed my present:

• Brightly colored pens at work that make my "To-Do" Lists look happy
• Reading (Jane Austen, Ray Bradbury, and young adult fantasy writer Rick Riordon)
• Being more selective in the blogs that i read
• Reading my scriptures in Spanish (and out loud)
• Neon colored nail polish on my toes
• My Clarisonic
• Working on my quilt...again
• Listening to this song, this song, and this song
• Using Barbie band aids
• Using a "scentsy" to fill my office and my home with smells of coconut, chocolate peppermint and berries
• Home made pizza, home made Thai food and home made salad dressings





Getting pictures of this face in text messages
(and knowing she's related to me!)

 



Ending a night with:
Journaling, Reading, Goal Setting






Blowouts from Paul Mitchell Hair School





Green Smoothies (and sometimes sharing them)






Baby BO snuggles






Happy Socks
(And friends who see them and buy them for me)






Pedicures with friends






Spa days alone






Going to the symphony





Making faces with my niece



Here's to happiness, a realistic view of the past, a positive view of the present and an optimistic view of the future (and many more "happy lists" to come).


Deal Breakers

As i re-enter the world of dating (eek! Seriously i have to do that again???) i have started having conversations like following exchange that transpired with a co-worker:

Co-worker: So.......would you ever consider going a date with a black guy...that's still in school...that's also in the military...and has no car?
Me: On a scale of 1-10....how hot is he?

Obviously, when it comes to serious dating i really am looking for someone with more than good looks. In fact this conversation prompted me to make a list of deal-breakers. If a guy meets even one of the descriptions on this list, they are automatically disqualified. Here goes :)

Deal-Breakers

• He wears a backwards baseball cap
• He has/had/considers having a mustache
• He uses the word "yo"...and he's not just messing around
• He tucks his wranglers into his boots
• He drives a truck with a monster sticker on it
• He pulls up to my house and honks
• He has a baby momma
• His goal in life is "to be the best drummer i can possibly be"
• He thinks that Little Caesar's pizza is it's own food group
• He uses the words "sexy" and "tractor" in the same sentence
• He lives with his parents
• The phrase "Baby got back" came out of his mouth
• He has a name like Rykker, Hummer, Traylyn or Moroni
• He asks me out via text message
• He owns a pair of candy colored skinny jeans
• He spends his weekends playing Halo
• When i am talking about Charles Dickens he says "Who?"
• He asks "Do you know how many calories are in that hamburger??"
• His favorite movie is "Anchorman"
• He spends more time in the tanning bed than Lindsey Lohan 
• He thinks flushing twice constitutes cleaning the toilet
• He thinks "guestimate" "ginormous" are real words
• He puts a hashtag in front of anything
• His favorite band is LMFAO
• His favorite topic of conversation is his gun collection
• He drives a rice rocket
• He doesn't know what he is going to do "when he grows up"
• He knows what he wants to do when he grows up, but he hasn't started yet (the growing up OR the working toward what he wants to do)
• He has a last name like "Dungworth" or "Fagg" or "Hiscock"
• He says "I received a revelation about our relationship..."
• He has an STD

Any more I should add to this list?

Vanity

i was raised listening to my father say "Looking good is better than feeling good" and i wholeheartedly believe it.

i do not go out without mascara on. i do not consider putting hair in a ponytail as a hair-do. i do not own a pair of sweatpants. i do not count flip flops as shoes. i judge people who show up at work or church with wet hair. Call me superficial. Call me vain. i stand by my opinions.

An amazing blogger i follow wrote an article about dressing for the day. As i read her post i found myself nodding along and agreeing with the mantra "Dress for the day you want to have...not the one that is trying to have you." After all, you know that feeling when you step out of the house and you KNOW you look good. You have an extra bounce in your step. You feel more confident. You expect people to notice you--people WILL notice you. (Sometimes i even get this feeling if i know my toenails are beautifully painted even if they are hidden in boots).

There is a misconception that it takes a lot of money or a lot of time to look nice or done up. Here are my basic rules:
1- Always wear makeup. It only takes 5 mins to put it on and it makes all the difference.
2- Do your hair. If you want a low key style, tell your hairdresser what you are looking for so they can cut it to best work with your hair type. Check out tutorials for easy-dos. Messy buns, simple braids, curls, even straightened with a little smoothing product. Just do something!
3- Accessorize. Fun earrings and a scarf can make your whole outfit. They are cheaper to buy and you look like you made an effort.

i have had a blast playing with curls, waves and braids in my hair. i never spend more than 20mins on it (usually it's closer to 15). Here's what i came up with:

curls

Playing with french braids

Messy side fishtail braid

Messy side bun

Simple french braids+lipstick

To sum up? So maybe i'm a little vain. But i will still dress up for the day that i want...and i want a load of beautiful days. i love this quote by Coco Chanel:

"I don't understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little--if only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that's the day she has a date with destiny. And it's best to be as pretty as possible for destiny."

My V-Day

V-Day. "A common name of many different public holidays in various countries to commemorate victories in important battles or wars in the countries' history" (Wikipdeia). "A day of victory" (Merriam-Webster). 

 

V-Day. Also known this time of year as an abbreviation for Valentine's Day.

 

This year for me they were synonymous.

 

Since 2005 Jake had been my "valentine." Our first Valentine's Day he gave me a movie poster of "The Phantom of the Opera," a single red rose tied with a ribbon and a handwritten note sealed with red wax. When I was in France I had a bouquet of roses delivered to my apartment. One year we spent the day in an airport in Cancun as we ended his leave time and he headed back to his deployment (i got a stunning opal bracelet). The last few years we started the tradition to bake heart shaped pizza together.

 

i didn't have a valentine this year. i didn't want one. i didn't need one. And. It. Felt. Good.

 

Stephanie came to visit this weekend with her new little puppy. She said she didn't want me to be alone on February 14th (and let's face it...we both just really wanted an excuse to see each other). Yesterday morning I sat on the floor cuddled up with her puppy (see? i DID get some Valentine's Day cuddles) and watched her get ready for the day while we chatted. She told me that she felt like i was doing well...i mean, REALLY doing well; that she felt like i didn't need her there to get through the holiday; that i am calm and collected. Now anyone that knows me also knows that rarely am i calm and collected. But she is right about one thing: i am at peace.

 

It happened last week. i found what my counselor calls my "quiet resolve" or what other people might call "closure." I have been striving towards it ever since i was in NYC and made the decision not to be a victim anymore. i spent many hours pouring over old journals, reading help books, talking things through, and writing writing writing out my feelings. As i set my New Year's resolution, i knew that i was getting closer, but part of me was still scattered, unsure and, to be frank, undecided. Last week, the final piece clicked into place. It was unexpected (both the event that helped me find my quiet resolve and the fact that i found it) but it happened fast. One moment i had agitated resolve...and then i realized i was done. It was over. i was free from the disquiet.

 

i found peace.

 

i felt the difference instantly. i am sure there will still be moments of anger or sadness. But the anger isn't a personal fire against Jake anymore. The sadness is not a desire to retrieve what we had but rather a grieving for what was lost (past, present and future). Quite frankly, i have reached a point of neutrality concerning my past marriage and my ex husband. In other words, it was what it was. i did what i could and even if i didn't, there is nothing i can do now. It is in my past. Jake is who he is and that doesn't concern me now. He is in my past. i am who i am and there is plenty that i can do now regardless of my past.

 

This Valentine's Day was amazing. i didn't receive roses. i saw plently of other people have attention lavished on them. i listened to the plans of many a happy couple. i even had one person say "Valentine's has to be so HARD for you! It's probably the WORST holiday of the year!" i laughed. i wasn't jealous. i was neutral. In all honesty.

 

Besides that, i was able to be with people that i love and who love me. And, as Victor Hugo said, "The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved--loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." But even if i had been all alone, i would have been just as fine. War won. Victory Day.

Unexpected Changes

i expected divorce to change my life. It was easy to predict some of the things that would affect me. i knew i would feel angry and lonely and depressed. i knew i would grow to enjoy my own space again. i knew i would struggle with self worth. i knew that i would have to set new goals for my life.

i did not expect to be able to talk about it causually with random persons without crying. i did not expect anxiety attacks in the grocery store or at so many small triggers. i did not expect to make a whole new group of friends so quickly who don't care that i am divorced. i did not expect to need a counselor for so long.

One seemingly small change (that is actually quite a large one for me) has been my reading list. i usually have several different books going, in several genres: a Newberry winner, a classic novel and a fantasy, for example. Lately....well...let me introduce you to my beside table:

All books to help me cope with my life that have been suggested by my counselor or friends. And there are three more on their way from Amazon. Here is what is on the menu:

Bonds That Make Us Free: Healing our Relationships, Coming to Ourselves by C. Terry Warner recommended by a friend which discusses letting go of the negative emotions that get in the way of healthy relationships.

The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. One woman's journey through a year of testing old addages about how to be happy and what truly makes one happy. The idea is for me to be inspired to find my own happiness in my own way...but perhaps with a few of her suggestions.

The Divorce Recovery Sourcebook by D B. Berry. It covers everything (in a general nutshell) of the emotional and legal impact of divorce and moving ahead.

The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook by D. J. Bourne prescribed by my counselor. Supposedly it is a "practical, step-by-step directions for the mastery of relaxation, exercise, coping with panic, overcoming negative self-talk, changing mistaken beliefts, self-esteem, nutrition, meditation techniques and anxiety-evoking health conditions." Should have seen that one coming...

On the way are these books that will help me understand what happened better with the ex and to help educate and prepare myself in case i end up facing a similar situation again.

He  Restoreth My Soul: Understanding and Breaking the Chemical and Spiritual Chains of Pornography  Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ by Donald L. Hilton. An absolute must read for anyone that has a loved one dealing with this addiction. i would also recommend it to any parents! i read the first few chapters from a borrowed copy and decided that it was a must have for my personal library. Brutal but beneficial.

Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself  by Melody Beattie suggested by my counselor. Those trying to help spouses through difficult times apparently fall quickly into co-dependency.

Boundaries and Relationships: Knowing, Protecting and Enjoying the Self  by Charles L. Whitfield.

Whew. By the time i am through, i will have my own personal collection of "self-help" books. i have never really attempted to "help myself" through literature like this before, so the next several months shall be interesting. i hope that the effort will be worth the while.

...And i might have to sneak a little Tolkien in there somewhere, anyway.