Birthday Shenanigans

S missed the Carrasco birthdays bash because of a work commitment. At this bash, we all had to compromise on which cake to get because everyone wanted something different. Needless to say, I was not happy. (I still ate it though because cake.)

Me: I'm glad your show went well. But we did miss you at the Gitmo-themed birthday bash.
S: LOL. I love how one cake ruined your entire 35th year.
Me: One WRONG cake, S.
S: What cake did you want?
Me: Chocolate with whipped icing. 
S: And what kind did you get?
Me: Chocolate with buttercream icing.
S: That's...the same damn thing.
Me: Uh, NO. You're so uneducated in the ways of baking. Buttercream is shortening-based and thick. Whereas whipped icing, or Whippy as us cool kids call it, is light and airy and makes me wanna roll around in it like Madonna in a white dress on the VMA's.
S: LMAO. First of all, you're a fucking poet with that Madonna reference. Second, if you ever decide to switch teams, I know a number of men who would fall hard for you, you poetry-spewing SOB. Thirdly, if you're upset because you didn't get a Whippy for your birthday, maybe you've already switched teams.

Me: LOL. The irony being I was upset I didn't get a Whippy at Gitmo. #WhippysAndWaterboardingAndCake #OhMy
S: LMAO. I bow to you, good sir.

===============

Then, one of my former flames gave birth to a youngin. And on my birthday, no less.

Her: So the baby was born on your birthday.
Me: is it mine?
Her: He's blond
Me: ...Miss N was blonde...
Her: Yes, but no one in either of our bio families is blonde. Thus, you and I could not have a blonde child. Plus, he's pasty as hell.
Me: lol Maybe I should've knocked you up then. I live in fear of having an actual blonde child someday. People without dark hair are closer to the devil than they know. Congrats though. 
Her: LOL. You know...now that I think about it, he did start chatting up the nurses five minutes outta the womb...and my great aunt is blonde...hmm...
Me: *cries out in Luke Skywalker Vader is yo daddy angst* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Her: LMAO. Please do that in the delivery room with your next baby. Scrubs and all. Then film it. Then, strip off the scrubs.
Me: LOL. So basically omit the birth part and make a dirty movie.
Her: lol Please and thank you.

===============

And finally, my beloved mom came into town for the first time in ever and brought along some...um...news.

Mom: One of my co-workers asked if you were single and I can't stand her so I said you're gay.

Me: *Blank, confused stare*

Mom: Let me walk you through it! She asked if you were single and I said yes, but you have a kid and she said she loved kids. So I said you're picky and she said she likes a challenge. I had no choice but to go for the gay!

Me: LOL. Go for the gay

Mom: But then after she walked away, another co-worker came up and asked if he could have your number. I didn't give it to him but if you ever visit my work and he's there at the same time, you may have to date him once. I don't want to look like I lied.

Me: lol You DID lie, Ma.

Mom: I know but I don't want it to LOOK that way. Remember, these are people who say they can't imagine me at a bar. Also, they're my underlings. If they think I'm a liar, things might get weird.

Me: I know you're a liar and things aren't weird. Until this conversation, anyway.

Mom: You hush! I don't need to be lectured about how to live my life from my gay son!

If You And I Would Ever Cease To Be

This weekend I will be turning 35 years young and I'm oddly at peace with it. My life is pretty damn great at the moment and given where I was 14 years ago at around this time, I'm just happy to still have a spot at the table in this whole life thing. But man, is it weird to think about it all having happened so long ago. I got a chance to really think about it all last night at dinner with R, who is one of my most significant exes. R and I are kindred spirits, in a way. No one will ever comprehend how much we went through together, how we've both felt nearly every emotion you can feel towards another person. I wrote recently that she loved me when I was thoroughly unlovable and I realized last night the reason for that is that she knows no other way. Neither of us know how to love conditionally or halfway so once we loved each other, that was it. Now so far removed from our shared past, she asked if I was up for a birthday dinner (her birthday was a few weeks back), and that sounded fantastic.
There was a time when I thought R and I might end up together, though I had some doubts about our future if we did. She wanted the two kids and picket fence deal and if you know me, too much domesticity has always made me nervous. I used to think I could be happy with her in that existence, but it wouldn't have truly been right for either of us. At our core, we were a lot of 'coulda been'. I'm curious to know how long we would've made it if not for an event in late 2002 that finally sent us our separate ways. We were beginning to find a rhythm after a horrendous year of depression and therapy (this was before the Dark Ages truly began, btw). I would not have lived through that year if not for R, she was my savior in so many ways it's ridiculous. But a future together was not to be. That final event was too much for us to get through, or rather we both decided we didn't have it in us to fight back from anymore negativity, and we called it quits in a very anti-climactic and drama-free way. Of course we lingered for awhile because it's difficult not to when you've shared such important times in your lives together. She had trouble with the fact that I continued to spiral after we broke up, and that I moved on almost effortlessly and R is nothing if not passionate, so it caused a huge argument that resulted in us not speaking for several years. We exchanged the odd text every now and then after things thawed a bit, and after she got married, but never had a chance to truly hash things out until last year when she invited me to dinner with her husband and their two girls. The dinner went very well and we've kept in sporadic touch ever since. Last night was the first time we've been able to sit down and reminisce just the two of us and it was great.
Sometimes when you get a chance to look back, you realize how your life would've been completely different if you hadn't known certain people. R is one of those people for me. I would not be who I am today if not for our time together. She asked during dinner if I ever could've imagined we'd be sitting here nearly two decades later, hurling dangerously close to 40 and no longer bitter about how our relationship ended. I don't recall either of us ever talking about where we'd be in twenty years while we we were together, we just kind of assumed it would all fall into place. And it has all fallen into place for both of us, albeit not the way we thought it would. I'd still walk through fire for that girl, probably even more willingly than I would've back then. I didn't comprehend what we had at the time and I really wasn't yet able to appreciate just how good of a woman she was. I don't regret where we've ended up, mind you, we're both where we were always meant to be. But she's kind of the prototype for who I would love to end up with in the end. Dinner got me thinking about how you gotta hold onto those types of people when they come along, even if you have to let them go for awhile in order to usher in a new era, so to speak. Even though we didn't talk for years and it didn't end in the best way, either of us could've called the other at any time and asked for something we needed and it would've been done without question. R was a bright light during a time when all that seemed to surround me was darkness and I'll never say a bad word about her. It's so good to see her happy.

Switch

Twas a long, exhausting (but ridiculously awesome) weekend and then yesterday was the sis-in-law's birthday stuff so I'm not operating on a whole lot of sleep. I got up this morning and got Miss N off to school and then got sucked into an episode of a Barbara Walters' show on Investigation Discovery that chronicled two babies switched at birth in the late 70's. And boy is reality truly stranger than fiction sometimes. The Coker (yes, that's their real name) family had been trying unsuccessfully for years to have a baby via IVF and finally delivered a girl named Kimberly in 1978. A few days later, the Twigg family, who had three children at home and had previously lost a newborn due to a heart issue, checked into the same hospital to have their daughter, Arlena (the names in this story, yo). Baby Kimberly's heart rate had been falling just prior to her delivery and she looked a little worse for wear after she made entry into the world, but she seemed to rebound the next day and be happy and healthy. Arlena, however, had been born with intestinal issues and a heart problem that doctors warned would likely take her life. The Twiggs were confused by this diagnosis as upon delivery their daughter appeared to be just fine, but they accepted the news and prepared for the likely loss of another child. For the next six years, both families raised their daughters, both unaware that any kind of switch had taken place. Kimberly's mother passed away from cancer when she was six, leaving her with her father and later a step-mother whom she would come to call, 'Mom'. Arlena's heart issue grew worse and she prepped for surgery with her doting mother by her side, but doctors noticed something odd on her blood work. Her blood type differed from her parents, meaning she could not biologically be their child. Her parents put this out of their minds as they turned their attention towards getting her healthy, but Arlena passed away the day after her heart surgery. Shortly thereafter, her parents petitioned the hospital to find out what had happened to their biological daughter. And that set off a hot mess of events.
The Twiggs went public with their search and quickly discovered Kimberly was likely their biological child, though her father (now married to wife number three after a nasty divorce from wife number two, in which he refused to let her see his daughter ever again) didn't believe this to be true. After a few years and assurances the Twiggs would not sue for full custody of Kimberly, he finally agreed to a DNA test and the results were as the Twiggs expected. Mr. Coker broke the news to his daughter and left it up to her as to whether she wanted to pursue a relationship with her biological family and this is where memories begin to differ. Kimberly, 14 at the time of her initial interview with the Barbs, says she was cordial towards her birth mother and siblings and when mom asked for a hug instead of a handshake, she complied. But later on, the woman began to badmouth Coker and at one point asked if she could call Kimberly, 'Arlena', which the girl said she wasn't comfortable with. Because of this, Kimberly decided not to see her birth family anymore and her father respected her wishes. But the birth mother recollects things differently, saying Kimberly ran up and hugged her when they first met and asked to call her, 'Mom'. She also denies poisoning the well when it came to the Cokers, but was quick to point out that she believed they had essentially kidnapped her healthy child and given them their terminally ill daughter. Methinks the truth likely lies somewhere in the middle, but whatever that may be, both families sued the hospital and settled years later. But The Twiggs weren't satisfied with just the settlement and wanted to probe deeper into the hows and whys of the children getting switched. The Twigg mother is utterly convinced that The Coker clan, who were apparently moneyed at the time, knew of their daughter's illness and weren't willing to deal with it and/or try again with IVF so they paid off the doctor to switch their sick baby with a healthy one. There is some evidence that something shady went down; the doctor listed for both girls changed shortly before they were discharged, the weight of one of the babies was clearly tampered with and the wrist and ankle bands that bind baby to mother had been switched, which had to have been done deliberately. The Twigg mother also noticed something seemed off about the baby she'd first held in her arms after delivery and the one brought to her a day later, but when she made mention of this the nurse gave her attitude and claimed that if the ankle and wrist bands said, "Twigg", then it must be her baby (personally, I would have raised hell if something didn't feel right. It's your child, FFS). There's a lot of circumstantial evidence but nothing concrete to definitively say anyone paid for anything. The particulars of what went down remain a mystery even now, they were overshadowed by what happened after Kimberly decided not to see The Twigg family anymore (or after her father forced her not to see them, as the birth mother claims).
The Twiggs sued for full custody of Kimberly, who in turn took them to court to try and sever their parental rights so she could stay with the man she considered her father. The Twigg's lawyer repeatedly referred to Kimberly as, 'Arlena' in court and painted her father as an abusive prick. In the end, court shrinks essentially decided the case when their submitted reports stated that the Twigg mother was paranoid as hell and not a good influence on Kimberly. The Twigg's parental rights were severed, though six months later Kimberly would move in with them anyway after she began having issues with her step-mother. The arrangement lasted until she was just about 18 and then she left the Twigg home because her siblings resented her for the whole mess, as well as how the birth mother fawned all over her. That was where the original 20/20 episode left off, the ID show was updating things some twenty-two years later. And nothing worked out well for anyone, really. The Twiggs divorced and the mother remarried and still firmly believes The Cokers bought her child and everything she did to get the kid back was justified. Mr. Coker passed away in 2012, having been estranged from his only child for four years. And Kimberly now had six children by four different men, two of them ex-husbands, and has been homeless and so down and out in years past that she worked as a stripper. Things have stabilized for her now, she has custody of three of the kids and works a 9 to 5, but she's not seen her firstborn son in over 15 years and they didn't even go into what happened to the other two kids. She regrets being estranged from her father over something as simple as money (apparently he loaned her some money and his wife stayed on top of the loan to the point of annoyance), and no longer keeps in touch with either family. She has no ill will towards The Twiggs, but she also has no desire to ever see them again. All things considered, life is good for her now. But it was sad when the show flashed back twenty years to when Babs asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and a then 14-year-old Kimberly said she wanted to be a lawyer and be married with a couple of kids. Barbara told her she was just a few years away from being able to make her own decisions and I thought, "Yeeeeeah, and that's not gonna go well." (And hey, I can relate, didn't go well for me either for years after I was legal).
This story was a fucking mess. I mean, if ever there were a story with a million unhappy endings, this was it. Both families were destroyed back in the 70's and remain fractured now. The Twigg mother lost her child, turned right around and launched into a custody battle while she was still highly emotional. It sounds as if getting Kimberly back became the only focus in her life, and she borderline neglected her other children in order to accomplish it. It's also creepy as hell how she wanted to call Kimberly by her dead daughter's name. It's like she forgot she'd raised another daughter for nearly a decade and just because she found out she wasn't biologically hers, it didn't mean the girl never walked the earth and wasn't important. I wonder how much of her resolved to win had to do with not speaking the hell up at the hospital in the first place. Guilt is a hell of a motivator. I totally believed she was paranoid and overly emotional during the whole thing, as the shrinks said. On the other hand, Mr. Coker came off as somewhat shady himself. Your daughter lost her mother at a very young age, got lucky in finding someone who loved and cared about her enough to be a second mother to her and just because shit goes down between you and this woman, you forbid her from continuing a relationship with your child. A child you know has lost the most important person in her life, twice over as it turned out. And then you let your third (or fourth) wife dictate the relationship you have with your daughter when she's an adult? What the fuck is wrong with you? I never understand these people who let step-parents take the wheel when it comes to their kids, and who let those people treat their kids badly or tell them what they can and can't do for them. I don't know if he was a part of this alleged conspiracy to buy a healthy kid or not, but he was definitely hiding something. I felt bad for Arlena and for Kimberly, and even for the other Twigg children, but not any of the so-called adults involved. I don't think any of them acted in the best interest of their children. Nothing is more sacred than that, if you feel something is amiss at the hospital then you need to raise holy hell until someone listens to you about it. The Twigg mother initially said she wanted to find her child because she'd grown up in an abusive situation and wanted to maker sure her daughter was not being treated badly. But that wasn't enough for her, she had to try and force this kid to love her by any means necessary. I can't imagine being in that situation, but your job as a parent is to think about what's best for the child, not what you want to have happen. When she found out that kid was a-ok, she should've left the door wide open for a relationship if and when Kimberly chose to have one with her, not kicked down the door emotionally beat the girl into submission, especially when doing so was harming her other children. What a waste, in so many ways. I'm glad Kimberly has found some peace though, girl deserves it.

But There's Something In The Way You Laugh That Makes Me Feel Like A Child

Her: I came up with a new quip about what happens to you if Trump wins your election. Ready?
Me: Maybe later.
Her: What's the matter?
Me: Bad day. Pointless argument.
Her: I'm sorry, darling. If it makes you feel any better, I almost broke my leg whilst harassing a baby.
Me: LOL. How...I don't even wanna know.
Her: lol It's a long story and it makes me look bad. And I'm still trying to win you over so I should probably stick to things like how I donate to the orphans and am very flexible physically.
Me: They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach though...
Her: That's a myth. The quickest way is through the chest.
Me: #BlackWidow
Her: S didn't tell you what happened to my ex-husband...hmm...
Me: Oh my god, we can be on Investigation Discovery!
Her: Erm...I would have to kill you for that to happen, love...
Me: Oh my god, you and my estate can be on Investigation Discovery!
Her: LOL. "Estate". I don't think a Force Awakens DVD and a Hakuna Matata t-shirt counts as an estate.
Me: LOL. Oh, just you wait. I have much better toys and t-shirts that may be worth the effort of killing me.
Her: Nothing would be worth that.
Me: Aw...
Her: Well wait, I shouldn't say that until I peruse your closet.

Convinced Me To Please You, Made Me Think That I Need This Too

Last year I went on a few dates with this chick who I really should've never engaged with. She reminded me of BP in more ways than one, and that should've been a sign. Things fizzled around the summer, but she resurfaced in the fall when a family member passed away. We talked for a couple of days and then she promptly ditched me and moved on again, having gotten some sympathy and who knows what else out of the brief contact. Things remained silent until a few months ago when she came back again out of the blue, talking about how she didn't realize how good we could've been for each other and how she wondered if I would be willing to give things a decent shot. Honestly, I was bored so I said why not and charged ahead. Big fat mistake. Within a week, it was obvious that things were not as they appeared to be. I had a few questions about her treatment of me last year, particularly why she decided to use me for emotional support. But she didn't like to talk about the past, not when she was at fault for it anyway, and dodged the questions, which only annoyed the hell out of me. I refused to actually date until we cleared the air and she refused to discuss it, so we arrived at an impasse. Then we got into an argument about it all where she lashed out at me and tried to make me at fault for everything that's ever gone wrong in her life and I went silent for a couple of days. She sent messages asking why I'd gone MIA and what "we" were doing, but she wasn't really apologetic about anything. Still, I wanted to put an end to things before I got sucked back in again so I gave her a call. And, big shock, things didn't end there.
She had to travel for work over the next month and a half and wanted me to go out to see her but I declined. And as soon as that happened, she tuned the fuck out. She didn't let me go, but she rarely spoke to me and yet seemed shocked that I wasn't banging down her door to speak either. She got back into town two weeks ago and we were in the midst of a conversation on a Friday afternoon when she asked what kind of label I would put on our relationship at the moment. I said probably acquaintances since we hadn't been able to hang out much and were still getting to know each other. She said she understood that and the convo went on a bit longer, then I asked if she had plans for the night. She said she had "an event", but nothing after that and I asked if she wanted to do something later. No reply. I texted later in the night and still got nothing and when I didn't hear from her by 1 the next day, I was concerned enough to call and see if she was okay. She'd mentioned not feeling well and I knew she had some lingering health issues. She sent the call to voicemail and texted that she couldn't talk at the moment and when I asked if she was okay, where she'd been, etc., and she gave cryptic and cold answers like, "I was just unavailable, I had people to see". Her demeanor was a total 180 from the person I'd been talking to the day before and it was very unnerving. I told her I'd been legit concerned something had happened to her and asked why she couldn't have just taken a few seconds to send something saying she was fine and got back, "You never said you were worried. Besides, we're just acquaintances anyway.". Suddenly I realized how that stick got up her ass - she was pressed over how I had characterized the relationship. I'd assumed she'd been with someone else all night and into the next day and that's why I hadn't heard from her and she confirmed it, saying she'd been hanging out with an ex (a married ex who was married when they "dated", but I digress). I didn't care who she spent her time with, it was the Jekyll and Hyde personality change that annoyed the fuck out of me. However, the fact that I didn't care if she was with someone else hit home for me that it wasn't going to work. If you're interested in someone in that way, you get jealous when they're with someone else in a romantic or physical way, and I just did not feel that at all.
For whatever reason, she actually engaged with me the following week and inquired about my life and when I next wanted to hang out, while simultaneously making comments about how she was in a place in her life where she wanted to work on herself so she could be ready for a hardcore relationship. I told her that maybe we should part ways because I'm past that stage of my life and into a place where I'm actually really for a relationship right now, but she didn't see things the way I did. She felt she could work on her ish while still being involved with me. I tuned out a bit after that convo because I saw the writing on the wall and then she laid into me for not asking her about her life and her days. But whenever I did do that, she went MIA in the middle of the convo, or whenever something came up between us that was not pleasant to talk about. Most people respond to messages the next day or as soon as they get a chance, but she never did respond to mine and that, combined with me still feeling some kinda way about her personality change the previous week, worked my nerves. She always had some excuse as to why she couldn't reply; her phone (VITAL for work) was locked in a restaurant and she couldn't retrieve it until 5 the next day, her friend was in the hospital and she was there all night (but the affliction was "no big deal"), she was in the shower (for 6 hours). The point of it was that even when she got her phone back, woke up from her overnight visit at the hospital or got out of the shower, she still never responded to a damn thing. All of her emergencies and shit were very timely, especially in the end where she couldn't speak because she was having work issues. Every time she sensed the end was near, something conveniently came up. Every. Time.
All of this pushed me to the breaking point. I don't need someone who never responds to messages, I don't need someone who tries to turn shit around on me when they're the one who can't make up their damn mind. And I certainly don't need some mean girl being nasty towards me whenever she feels like it. I tried to end things on Monday but she didn't reply until Tuesday afternoon, with yet another sob story about where she'd been. I wasn't convinced it was the truth (but then once you brand someone shady, everything they say and do becomes shady, right?), but I didn't tell her that. She asked me to chat that night at around 7 to clear the air about everything, not sure if she knew that my aim was to end things or not. But surprise, surprise, 7 came and went, as did 8 and 9 and I heard nothing from her. My messages went unanswered well into the next day and by then I was so steamed that I'd told her whatever was going on between us was finished and I was out. She responded with total shock but no explanation about what had been more important than a chat she had wanted to have. We both hopped on chat and she could not have been less engaged, barely responding and telling me she was simultaneously having a conversation with her neighbors. I made a quip about how she shouldn't even have asked to talk if she wasn't going to, you know, talk and she got pissy and lashed out at me before abruptly cutting things off because she got a phone call. Another timely phone call. What are the odds? That was where things stayed until this morning when I attempted to call and got no answer. Eventually, she bothered to say she was dealing with a financial issue and couldn't speak at all but maybe she could chat later on tonight if she didn't go out. By that time, I'd had the situation broken down for me by Agent W and decided enough was enough and I'd given her enough chances to say her own goodbye. I said what I needed to say and deleted her contact info. Out of sight, out of mind.
There's a difference between someone who wants you and someone who actually pursues you. This chick didn't comprehend that. She'd tell me one thing, go on about how she didn't want things to end, but she did nothing to prevent them from ending. If you supposedly don't want to lose me, then why aren't you doing the bare minimum to keep me? She'd say things to me like she'd been walking through my neighborhood with friends last week and thought of me as if it were some grand gesture. If you thought of me, why didn't I hear anything from you? If you were in my neck of the woods, why didn't you inquire about whether I was there too and available to grab coffee? Don't tell me one thing and then do another, I can't stand that shit. I don't care for how I allowed her to treat me but I'm wise enough to know that she's the reason it ended up the way it did. Even as it all came crashing down, she couldn't be bothered to care. If it's important, you make the time. If it isn't, you don't. Very simple, very black and white. I'm just glad to be done with the drama. Let some other fool deal the erratic behavior and convenient interruptions. I can do much better than that.

There's A Battle Ahead, Many Battles Are Lost, But You'll Never Reach The End Of The Road When You're Traveling With Me

Oh, Miss N...you're eight years old today. EIGHT. YEARS. OLD. I'm sure that doesn't strike you as as monumental as it does dear old Mom and Dad, but someday you'll look in a mirror on April 9th and say to yourself, "I'm twenty-eight years old today. TWENTY. EIGHT." and you'll get it. They say youth is wasted on the young because we're always in a hurry to grow up and do all the grown up things we perceive to be cool. We don't realize what a gift youth is until it's passed us by and we get chewed up and spat out by the world. But I've come to realize in this past year that you're smarter than the average bear. There's a part of you that is just itching to be like your too cool for school cousin Miss R, a part of you that wants to "get big" and make your way out into the world. But most of the time, you're quite content to be the age you are. You are one of the lucky few who takes advantage of youth, who appreciates it while it's still in the building. And I'm grateful for that for two reasons. The first being that I hope you don't become one of those people who longs for the easier days of youth when adulthood becomes too tough, somebody who looks back with regret about all the things they didn't do as a youngin. Not many of us can say that. The second reason I'm grateful that you're in no hurry to grow up is because I kinda don't want you to, at least not too quickly. It's been rough to come to terms with the fact that you're no longer that tiny toddler who couldn't get enough of me. But thanks for not being as embarrassed by my as your friends seem to be by their parents. You still like to hang out with me, you don't (yet) see me as a hindrance and, not to influence any future decisions you make make about that, but it would probably rip my heart out if you ever did (see what I did there? Parental guilt is magic!). I don't like to think about that now though. Right now I just want to enjoy riding shotgun with you for as long as you let me.
You know better than anyone that dad is an eyes guy. Someone once told me that if you fall in love with someone's eyes, you'll stay in love forever because that's the one thing that never changes. Good looks fade, personalities can change, but eyes remain the same. When I think back to when you and I first laid eyes on each other, it's overwhelming. That was love at first sight in its purest form. It even drew my attention away from the fact that you were blonde which, as you know, was an earth shattering discovery for me (I kid, but seriously, if you grow up to be blonde, I'm probably not your dad). I've always loved watching your eyes; when you see something for the first time, when you're excited about something, when you laugh. Your mom says you and I both get the same light in our eyes when we talk about or are doing something we're excited about. She thinks she's the third wheel because you and I both get that same light whenever we're together, and we always have. I can't speak to that since I can't see it from mom's point of view, but I do know that we're bonded in a very different way and that bond is the best thing to ever happen to me. What a blessing it would be to be able to watch those eyes light up for the next fifty or sixty years.
The past year has been a highly significant one for you and for our family. You and I acquired a stepdad. You began the second grade. You saw "Star Wars" for the first time. You badgered me for a puppy and, later, for a stepmom (good tactic, btw). You shamed me for my poor drawing skills. And yet, I still love you. I'd still do anything for you. People often talk about parenthood being this big, transformative change in one's life, and it is. But it's a constant transformation; one hour to the next, one week to the next, and certainly one year to the next. You don't realize how short a year really is until you look back and see how this little, and now not-so-little, person has changed. And how lucky I am to be there to watch it all happen everyday. Is it always a picnic? No. But we get through it. And you're a lucky girl to have three parents who adore you and a family who will scold you for your sass by putting their own sass on display. And sass is something you have plenty of. Your mom and I had both hoped you wouldn't inherit the Carrasco clever/smart alekness, but here you are, just as sassy as the rest of my side of the family. Whilst I will find that fantastic when you're older and we can sass people together, it's not as much fun to deal with when you sass me now, and it will probably be even less fun when you do it as a teenager. But you also inherited your mother's intelligence and will, which will serve you well throughout your life. You're a fiery little thing, that's for sure.
Being your dad has been without question the greatest achievement of my life. It seemed like a very tall task for me to get my stuff together and care for the needs of someone else when you first came along. But in hindsight, there's probably no other reason I would have straightened up. I believe things come to you when you need them, even if it's when those things are the last thing you expect. You are everything I didn't know I needed. Sometimes it's been a rocky-ish journey for you and me and your mom, but hopefully the worst of it is behind us. I adore you, Miss N and I hope your eighth year treats you well. Happy Birthday, kid.

On The Brain

Almost exactly 14 years ago, I was rushed into emergency surgery to relieve swelling on the brain caused by the accident. I'm told the surgery took hours and even days afterward, doctors couldn't give the family any real good news because they didn't think I would recover. The doctors also believed that even if I did manage to come out of the coma, I would have significant brain damage. Stubbornness being a family trait, no one believed that I was going to die, or that I was going to be a vegetable. When I woke up two weeks later, I was confused as all hell and assumed the feeling would subside. But it quickly became obvious I'd undergone some major personality changes and had significant memory loss. The year that followed that accident was the most difficult year of my life. I had to deal with the loss of one of the closest people to me, the near loss of two others and, in some ways, the loss of myself, or at least who I used to be. I had to learn how to walk and endure countless other surgeries to correct this or that. And it hasn't gotten any easier in the years since; the anemia, the cancer scares, the great MS and Alzheimer's watches of 2016. That event was a line drawn in permanent marker, dividing who I was from birth to age 21 and who I've become from 21 to almost 35. In another five years, I'll have lived half my life as who I used to be and half my life with the current me, and that's trippy to think about. However selfish it may sound, I've always considered myself somewhat lucky that I was in the hospital bed and not one of those in the waiting room during the accident mess. I didn't have to worry, I didn't have to sit there day after day and wonder if it was my last breath or if I'd come out of surgery. I had the easy part of just lying there unconscious. It sounds odd, but there's some sort of comfort in the fact that I didn't have to endure the emotional wreckage (not until years later, anyway).
A friend of someone fairly close to me had been having awful headaches for a couple of weeks. They assumed it was a sinus problem and took meds to try and ward off whatever the problem was, but the headaches got worse and to the point where they were absolutely leveled every time a headache came on. Finally deciding a visit to the doctor was in order, they got a CT and were shocked to learn the cause of the headaches was a tumor the size of a golf ball, pressing against the brain. After confirming the presence of the tumor, surgery was scheduled for next week to remove it and make sure that it's benign. The pictures of it are really quite amazing, and this is coming from someone who views CT's and MRI's on a semi-regular basis. But I've never seen anything like that. I can't imagine knowing beforehand that they're going to cut your head open and poke around up in there. It's not like I had a choice when it happened to me. I don't know how I'd do sitting with the knowledge of that, not to mention the actual tumor on the brain, for the better part of a week. I'd probably be a bit of a mess, so I give major props to this person for handling it the way they have. I certainly couldn't do it.
Understandably, the mutual friend my soon-to-be brain buddy and I share has been seriously thrown by the news. She came into my life years after my accident and often marveled at how I came through it all. She used to run her hand across the scar on my head and say she didn't think she'd be able to handle any of it; being in the situation herself or being a loved one in the waiting room. I told her I hoped she'd never have to deal with anything like that. But here we are. Still, she recognizes that situation could've been far worse, her friend could've put off going to the doctor a lot longer and ended up in really dire straits. That would've been awful. Thank Fonz it was caught early and here's hoping the recovery will be complete (though it won't be easy because brain surgery, ya'll).

We Fell Off The Wagon, You Should've Heard The Thud

I am being betrayed left and right by friends who once said they had no interest in marriage lining up to walk down the aisle. A and R, together for eons and eternally engaged, have set a June wedding date and the moment they told us about it was hilarious. Y, E, G and I were huddled on the floor for our monthly TV binge when A said she had some news and I'm sure we all immediately thought she was knocked up. But before any of us got come up with something smartassed, R jumped in and said they were finally getting married. The four of us who were just receiving this news sat there speechless, jaws agape, before I finally came up with, "But why?". They say that it just feels right and they're ready to be hitched. This news comes on the heels of last year's surprise Halloween nuptials between D and his longtime lady, neither of whom ever said a word about marriage in nearly a decade together and then suddenly announced they were doing the damn thing. D grew up in a war zone and I remember many conversations between us about how he never wanted to get married and felt no real need to have children. His Missus' parents also had a nasty divorce that put her off ever taking vows, yet here she is, an official Mrs.. What the hell, people?
I can count on one hand the number of people in my inner circle who always wanted to get married. I guess I just don't gravitate towards people who want that. I remember being surprised when my childhood friend R walked out the door of rehab and, less than a year later, walked right down an aisle with his longtime love. In my twenties, I felt like we were all in this together, we were all gonna stick it to the man and not have our relationships ruled by pieces of paper and ish. And now...now people be dropping like damn flies. But if you know me, you know I find upsides where none should exist and I've managed to do just that during all this misguided marriage fest. Observing these marriages from the outside has actually been fascinating. Dare I say, it's been an education.
R and his wife unexpectedly became pregnant less than a year into their marriage, which meant he went from hitting bottom as an alcoholic to being a new husband and father all within two years. But he's handled it beautifully and found a reason to stay on the straight and narrow for the long haul. His wife definitely captains the ship, but it's been thoroughly impressive to see R navigate all the changes in his life. I wouldn't have been able to do that. D and his new wife haven't had as easy a go of it, though. There's extensive history there; she was a cutter and had an eating disorder in her teens and he had some drug issues in his twenties. When they came together, it was a case of her being on an upswing and him being in a downward spiral, but they somehow made it work. They broke up and made up several times over the years, they've always had one of those relationships where too much togetherness breeds discontent (I will never understand such a thing, I get annoyingly close to the other person when I'm in love, but I digress). But when they split in 2010, he was disturbed by how quickly she seemed to move on and genuinely afraid it was the end. They got back together the following year and he went all in, fully committed to her. They decided to co-habitate a few years later and then came a proposal and a wedding, both happening in the same month. But by Christmas, it was obvious that not all was well. D said they were just having growing pains and they took some time apart (not a separation, just a week where they were in different places) and it seemed to help. But recently they began arguing about the one thing they never fought about in their entire relationship - his drugging and her cutting.
Though I may not understand the exorbitant amount of time D and his wife require apart in order to make their relationship work, I have always admired the way they both readily accepted each other's faults. Neither of them ever had to hide the struggles they'd been through and neither ever made the other feel bad about those struggles. He never hit full blown addict status, his struggles were similar to mine although his substance(s) of choice were different. She went into a rehab program in her early 20's to get better, and D did a very short stint in rehab as a condition of getting his job back, but his time was more a formality than anything else. Within a week of arriving, he knew that he would never touch the stuff again and he checked out. Neither of them have ever relapsed, so I was curious as to why they're arguing over something that should be largely insignificant at this point in both their lives. Apparently someone got in her ear about how substance abusers like D were more likely to relapse, more so than users who have done complete rehab stints, and now she suddenly thinks their marriage woes may trigger him. He finds that absurd since he doesn't even see relapsing as an option and he's more annoyed than anything else at this point. It was unfortunate to see that she may be using his past as a way of putting distance between them, but hopefully they work through it soon. I would hate to see everything they've built fall apart over things that are well in the past.
Once A and R take that long, lonely walk down the aisle, Y, E and myself will be the only non-married amongst the group. E is pushing 40 and desperately wants to get hitched and have kids, while Y and I seem to have settled into similar lulls where getting into new relationships just seems like too much work. But she's further down that rabbit hole than I am as I recently decided to actually apply myself when dating. The six of us have been a thing for close to 15 years now and I can't imagine any of us thought we'd end up where we are now. We certainly didn't see A and R ever really getting married. A was enamored with her high school sweetheart and planning their wedding during college when he dropped the bombshell that he didn't actually want to be married at all (adding extra drama to the whole thing - A's sister got knocked up by HS dude's brother. The pairing didn't last, but they now co-parent two kids, so A and her ex are aunt and uncle to the same youngins. Tres awkward.). That whole thing put her off marriage for a long time, to the point where she even considered turning down R's marriage proposal. And now they're gonna do it. And I am quickly running out of non-married friends, which just grinds my gears. So much for being in this together. Traitors!

A Happy End, Strong And Kind, Somewhere To Rest My Troubled Mind

You know that thing where you should care about something, but then you suddenly realize you don't? That happened to me this morning. And I sort of just disconnected from the thing I should've cared about. The situation I was in with this other person was undefined and complicated and was not going to become defined or uncomplicated anytime soon. I realized that while neither of us are anything to one another, I started to unconsciously put relationship-esque expectations on things. And that wasn't fair to either of us. I'm sympathetic to the things she's going through and I hope they all work out, but I had to let her know that this was just not working at the moment. I told her she can drop me a line down the road if things ever slow down for her, but that we can't do this day to day thing anymore. She made a number of comments last week about how she's trying to change things for herself and become a happier person so that she can land the things she wants out of life. I was skeptical because she's said such things before and not really followed through. However, maybe this will be the time she does and maybe she'll find what she's looking for at the end of it all. I always find it nice when people end up the way they want to be.

Someone on the build site this morning joked with me about how I chose to spend my vacation down here working, rather than kicking back on a beach somewhere doing nothing. And yeah, dude is probably right. But idle hands make idle men and if there's one thing I rarely am, it's idle. This trip has extra significance for me because it's the first time my niece, Miss R, is able to build right along with me. She turns 17 (Jesus...) this month and she's wanted to be down here helping out with me for years now, so it's awesome to finally be able to do it. I can't wait to do the same with Miss N in another eight years when she's old enough. I've found I do some of my best thinking when I'm doing random things. Everyone knows that when I'm particularly troubled, or have a big decision to make, I clean my kitchen (random, like I said). It may seem odd, but it's actually a way to get out of my own head whilst simultaneously sorting through everything going on in my head. And building seems to provide that same kind of escapism. This morning my mind wandered into some interesting places while I was shingling a roof, of all things. I could see everyone else doing their respective tasks, Miss R included, and I thought how great it was to have made it to this point in my life. And then I thought how awesome it would be if I found a partner who also enjoyed this type of giving back. Not someone who does it because I do it and they feel obligated, but someone who genuinely wants to help others. Obviously, I hope we have more in common than just that, but I find that kind of altruism attractive. As I was up there on that roof peering down on the world, I thought about how I'd love to be back in that same position in eight years time, staring down at Miss N and a Mrs.. That would make me happy. Here's hoping it's in the cards.

"Give Someone Your Attention. If They're Always Too Busy To Return It, Never Give Them Your Attention Again."

The title of this post comes from a quote I read this morning. I always seem to read quite timely quotes when I'm on the verge of making a decision. But this one reminded me of so many things, as did the pointless conversation I foolishly engaged in about an hour after I read it. Two nights ago, this person and I were discussing something when she went MIA. She said nothing to me the following day until around midnight, and then proceeded to not respond to a single message after that. The next day, she departed on a trip to the opposite coast and, unbeknownst to me, thought that would aid in repairing whatever remained of a relationship between us. She drives a lot when she's on these trips and, in more decent times, we used to speak whenever she was driving (in hindsight, I'm guessing this was only because she was bored and so I was finally allowed some time). She didn't tell me of this plan, she didn't even ask me if I would be interested in it, she just assumed that she would call me and we'd chat away and it would be like old times. She called twice, both times I was busy and couldn't talk. We barely spoke at all, and when we did it was just mindless fighting. Always fighting, always about the same tired subjects.
I'd been doing some serious thinking since my talk with G the other night. Giving someone your attention is a conscious choice - you choose to do it, or you choose not to. Everyone is busy, everyone has lives, but if we care we find time amongst all the busy to reach out to those who are important to us. I have a more than full-time career, a child and a hectic travel schedule. I'm also terrible at keeping in touch a lot of the time anyway, so I don't return every single message or call. But I put a premium on returning the messages of certain people, I make the time for that no matter what. And they do the same, not just with me but with the other people in their lives that they consider most important. It's not a difficult thing to do, or at least it shouldn't be. And yet, this person makes it sound as if I'm asking them to crack some sort of impossible safe combination. This person makes me feel like a nag or like I'm high maintenance for wanting just the most basic of things. And I don't like that. I questioned on a few occasions if I was asking for too much before realizing how very little I was actually asking for. It amounts to either lifting a finger, or not lifting a finger. The defense is always that she's out or she's not going to be rude and respond to me while she's out. But I never asked for that. In fact, that's one of my biggest pet peeves, people being on their phones while they're at dinner. I don't do that, I don't expect anyone else to do that for me (I've scolded people for it in the past. I know, I have a problem.). She's not out 24/7, she's just choosing not to speak to me. She's making the conscious choice not to give me her attention. And I'm okay with that now.
We had a quick phone convo today in which she said, "I don't want to lose you". Had it not been said at the tail end of the conversation, I would've had plenty to say about that loaded sentence. If you don't want to lose me, then why aren't you doing the bare minimum to keep me? The behavior is much, much different than what she says she wants or will do. Even today, I gave her a very clear, black and white decision to make - she's in and shit radically changes, or she's out and that's the official end of it. She said she was in and, "yeah, we'll talk or whatever" in such an annoyed tone that I wanted to tell her not to bother. Because I knew what would be coming, same old shit but a different day. Neither of us trust each other, and I realize I don't care if we ever do. And that's a sign. My patience ran out last year. I was more than willing to compromise on some things, but not if I continue to be the only one to do so. She's always wanted it both ways and that doesn't appear to be something that will change.
I'm not sure if I have hit the, "Never give them your attention again" phase, but I am right up against that wall at the moment. Part of me thinks I should just move the fuck on, she's already shown she isn't interested in changing anything. But the other part, that annoying part that still cares, would like to see things through. That second part is slowing decreasing though; with every unfinished conversation, every unreturned text, every fight. I don't have time for drama anymore. She's the only person I argue with and I really could do without it. So we'll see what happens, I guess. I imagine her decision will be that she wants to continue on, but it will come with many caveats that absolve her of actually having to try. And when (not if) that happens, that'll be it. I'm done compromising myself for the sake of this shit.