So the day that I wrote here last, Jason called and cussed me out about the blog, and then two days later did it again. Consequently I've changed the blog to invite-only. If you know anybody I should invite, let me know, because it makes me happy for people to be reading.
Last week was just awful. I was a self-involved mess for most of it (what else is new?), but I think, ONCE AGAIN, that I've come out the other side.
It just felt so lonely and wrong and odd to be floating around over here not knowing what was going on with Jason's family at such a terrible time in their lives. The funeral was Saturday, and guess what? I didn't go. I intended to, but Jason told me it was at 3 when it was actually at 2. I think it was probably just a mistake on his part; he's never been good at details. I was really nervous about going; with the divorce, seeing his family was going to be really hard, and seeing Julia sitting with them was going to be even harder. But I still needed it for closure, to be able to say goodbye- not just to Big John, but to the Agans. Looks like I'm going to have to find that closure somehow within myself.
Jason told Reed on Friday, and he seems to have handled it remarkably well. He's brought it up once or twice, but he doesn't seem too distraught about it, which is a good thing. Plus I think Reed's too busy SUCKING MY WILL TO LIVE; he's prioritizing, see? He has been so energetic and wild lately, I have a lot of trouble keeping up. Jason has suddenly decided that he ought to be spending more time with Reed, and I agree. They hung out last night, and when they got home, Reed sung us Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes in Spanish and it was one of the cutest things I've ever seen. Knowing, seeing for real that Reed will be fine, makes me feel much lighter during such a heavy time.
Eric, my boy in Mississippi, has changed things for me in so many ways it's hard to count. I feel optimistic. If you know me, you know that that means THE APOCALYPSE BE COMIN', Y'ALL, TAKE COVER. We talk every day- as evidenced by my $8657 phone bill THANKS T-MOBILE- and we text a lot. I've never attempted a long-distance anything, so this is all a learning process for me. A yearning, bittersweet, shallow-breathing learning process, but a learning process nonetheless. He is so cute, and so sweet, and he makes jokes. AND LAUGHS. JOKES AND LAUGHS. I can't tell you what a breath of fresh air this is, to be with someone who knows how to look for silver linings, who knows how to be goofy, who knows how to make me smile every single day. Luckily he's only about three hours away, so we can visit a lot. I didn't get to go see him last weekend, but you better believe I'm going out there this weekend. We're going to have tamales for breakfast and drink beer and goof off in his living room floor and make out AND MAKE OUT AND MAKE OUT, and I can't wait.
So, you know, if you see a crazy lady burning up the road towards Kosciusko this Friday, just stay outta my way.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Well, it seems to be three steps forward, two steps back around here.
Jason's dad died night-before-last. He wasn't the healthiest person ever as far as his lifestyle, but he hadn't been sick that I know of, hadn't had heart problems or anything of that nature. It was pretty unexpected. He was around 60, I believe.
John was the first member of Jason's family that I met after we started seeing each other, and he immediately welcomed me into the family when everyone else was hesitant, as Jason was going through a nasty divorce at the time. He treated me with kindness and respect. We joked and laughed and drank beer together, and picked on each other and hugged each other. John would hug me until I thought my bones would break into pieces.
Only a few weeks ago I dropped Reed off at John's (where Jason is living now) and John hugged me and told me he loved and missed me.
The grief I'm feeling now is only intensified by the fact that I'm not really a part of their family any more, can't go to them and hug them and cry with them and remember John. I mean, I guess I could, but I haven't been invited and no one has been calling me. I feel awfully lonely, out here by myself, no one to commiserate with. I called Jason's mom and left a shaky, weepy message asking her to please let me know if there is anything at all that I can do. I haven't heard back from her. It's probably unfair of me to be having these thoughts and feelings, but it feels wrong some how not to be involved in this process with them. John was my father-in-law for 6 years, and the ink isn't dry on the divorce papers, and he was Reed's grandaddy John.
Oh, God, and Reed. I don't know if it's because of Jason's leaving and the divorce and all, but he's been asking a lot of questions about death lately. "Are you going to die? Is Ma going to die? When? I don't want Ma to die, because I love her." All I've known to tell him is that everybody dies, but it's when they're very, very old, and it's going to be a very long time before Ma or I die, that we'll be old, old, old. And now someone has to be like, "Except grandaddy John! He died. But no one else will for a long, long time." I feel like a liar, a failure, lost, wrong.
Also Jason has asked specifically that he gets to tell Reed. But now I'm left to wait and wonder, when? When will he tell him? Because there are no plans anytime in the next several days for Jason to see Reed. And while I don't know for sure, I bet all the other grandchildren have been told already. No one has called to talk to Reed, or visited him.
I think I'm just selfishly feeling like the outcast, and I'm fearing that Reed is going to be cast out with me. I'm absolutely dizzy right now with too many thoughts, too much confusion. I just wish I could do something, could help them right now. But I suppose that's just my place any more.
Jason's dad died night-before-last. He wasn't the healthiest person ever as far as his lifestyle, but he hadn't been sick that I know of, hadn't had heart problems or anything of that nature. It was pretty unexpected. He was around 60, I believe.
John was the first member of Jason's family that I met after we started seeing each other, and he immediately welcomed me into the family when everyone else was hesitant, as Jason was going through a nasty divorce at the time. He treated me with kindness and respect. We joked and laughed and drank beer together, and picked on each other and hugged each other. John would hug me until I thought my bones would break into pieces.
Only a few weeks ago I dropped Reed off at John's (where Jason is living now) and John hugged me and told me he loved and missed me.
The grief I'm feeling now is only intensified by the fact that I'm not really a part of their family any more, can't go to them and hug them and cry with them and remember John. I mean, I guess I could, but I haven't been invited and no one has been calling me. I feel awfully lonely, out here by myself, no one to commiserate with. I called Jason's mom and left a shaky, weepy message asking her to please let me know if there is anything at all that I can do. I haven't heard back from her. It's probably unfair of me to be having these thoughts and feelings, but it feels wrong some how not to be involved in this process with them. John was my father-in-law for 6 years, and the ink isn't dry on the divorce papers, and he was Reed's grandaddy John.
Oh, God, and Reed. I don't know if it's because of Jason's leaving and the divorce and all, but he's been asking a lot of questions about death lately. "Are you going to die? Is Ma going to die? When? I don't want Ma to die, because I love her." All I've known to tell him is that everybody dies, but it's when they're very, very old, and it's going to be a very long time before Ma or I die, that we'll be old, old, old. And now someone has to be like, "Except grandaddy John! He died. But no one else will for a long, long time." I feel like a liar, a failure, lost, wrong.
Also Jason has asked specifically that he gets to tell Reed. But now I'm left to wait and wonder, when? When will he tell him? Because there are no plans anytime in the next several days for Jason to see Reed. And while I don't know for sure, I bet all the other grandchildren have been told already. No one has called to talk to Reed, or visited him.
I think I'm just selfishly feeling like the outcast, and I'm fearing that Reed is going to be cast out with me. I'm absolutely dizzy right now with too many thoughts, too much confusion. I just wish I could do something, could help them right now. But I suppose that's just my place any more.
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
So then, new life, first installment.
Divorce papers were signed on Friday. I spent the weekend with my new boy from Mississippi and Reed. We went to the park and the McWane Center and ate lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant, and at night we housesat for Chris and Kristi and drank beers on the back porch and listened to music and talked and talked. And talked.
I'm feeling prepared, ready, unafraid, in ways that I wouldn't have expected, ways that I am thanking God for.
I have to keep up the job search, have to keep being there for Reed and taking care of him, keep doing the laundry and the dishes and all that other daily stuff. But now there's something else behind it, incentive, excitement, satisfaction, purpose, that wasn't there before. For all I know it WAS there before and I just didn't see it, couldn't find it, something; all I know is it's there now and I like it.
This coming weekend I'm going to Mississippi, spending one night in Jackson to see a band with the boy, and the other night in Kosciusko at the boy's apartment, cooking and talking and drinking and, let's face it, making out a little bit. Or a lotta bit, whichever. I can't wait for Friday, can't wait to see his face, to hear his voice, smell his neck, to play with his dog, to sit on his couch.
Right now the only real concern I have is Jason and his fading connection with Reed. He never calls, never asks to see him. I call him and ask if he wants to hang out with his son, and he seems indifferent, annoyed, put-out. I can't understand it, because he's always been a fantastic, enthusiastic father, and somehow that's changed, and it scares the shit out of me. I mean, our marriage is over, he can piss me off all day long and I'll get over it, but Reed is 4 years old, young and fragile and scared and confused, and this is a crucial time for Jason to reassure him that their love will never change. I fear that he's not realizing how his attitude affects Reed, how Reed can tell how angry and bitter and resentful Jason is.
But, for right now, all I can do is keep encouraging Jason to see Reed, keep telling Reed how much we both love him, that we're not going anywhere, that we'll always be his parents, always love him. And keep moving on with my life, with Reed in tow. We'll be alright, we just might hit a few speed bumps on the way.
Divorce papers were signed on Friday. I spent the weekend with my new boy from Mississippi and Reed. We went to the park and the McWane Center and ate lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant, and at night we housesat for Chris and Kristi and drank beers on the back porch and listened to music and talked and talked. And talked.
I'm feeling prepared, ready, unafraid, in ways that I wouldn't have expected, ways that I am thanking God for.
I have to keep up the job search, have to keep being there for Reed and taking care of him, keep doing the laundry and the dishes and all that other daily stuff. But now there's something else behind it, incentive, excitement, satisfaction, purpose, that wasn't there before. For all I know it WAS there before and I just didn't see it, couldn't find it, something; all I know is it's there now and I like it.
This coming weekend I'm going to Mississippi, spending one night in Jackson to see a band with the boy, and the other night in Kosciusko at the boy's apartment, cooking and talking and drinking and, let's face it, making out a little bit. Or a lotta bit, whichever. I can't wait for Friday, can't wait to see his face, to hear his voice, smell his neck, to play with his dog, to sit on his couch.
Right now the only real concern I have is Jason and his fading connection with Reed. He never calls, never asks to see him. I call him and ask if he wants to hang out with his son, and he seems indifferent, annoyed, put-out. I can't understand it, because he's always been a fantastic, enthusiastic father, and somehow that's changed, and it scares the shit out of me. I mean, our marriage is over, he can piss me off all day long and I'll get over it, but Reed is 4 years old, young and fragile and scared and confused, and this is a crucial time for Jason to reassure him that their love will never change. I fear that he's not realizing how his attitude affects Reed, how Reed can tell how angry and bitter and resentful Jason is.
But, for right now, all I can do is keep encouraging Jason to see Reed, keep telling Reed how much we both love him, that we're not going anywhere, that we'll always be his parents, always love him. And keep moving on with my life, with Reed in tow. We'll be alright, we just might hit a few speed bumps on the way.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Wow. Wow. I don't know how to start.
In the middle of January, Jason left me. He came home from work one day and said he thought we should separate, that he needed some time alone, and I cried and begged and pleaded and told him I loved him and wanted to be with him and Reed needs his dad and so on. That evening I went to Kristi's and tried to work it out in my head and couldn't come up with much. The next morning he told me he didn't want to separate, he wanted a divorce. I totally fell apart. I cried and puked and begged and cried some more. I didn't eat for days. I cried for days.
The only thing that kept me from totally falling off the deep end was Reed, daily routine, stuff to do. And being unemployed, there wasn't always stuff to do. I see-sawed back and forth between dealing and totally not dealing. Well, honestly the other thing that kept me from falling off the deepend was my collection of the best girls on the planet, my girls, who would answer the phone any time, answer my crazy texts at any time, and remind me that this, RIGHT HERE, is reality, and I can deal with it and move on.
And that right there, the fact that my only option was to deal with it and move on, was the hardest to grasp. I kept waiting for Jason to come to his senses, to realize that he couldn't live without me, to realize that he'd made a terrible mistake, to realize how terrible this would be for Reed. But over the weeks it slowly and painfully became clear that that wasn't going to happen.
It took about a week for me to nag Jason into admitting he was spending time with someone else, 13 days for me to badger Jason into admitting that he was fucking her. The night that he admitted that, he told me that I'm crazy, that I have problems, why wouldn't I just let him go, that I was abnormal for wanting to know what he was doing and who he was with.
Julia, the girl that Jason is with now, is someone we've had problems with in the past. I never wrote about it, because I wanted to keep some part of our lives private. Two years ago Jason and I were having some marital problems, and it came to my attention that he'd taken nude photos of a girl without my knowledge, and that he'd been talking to people he worked with pretty extensively about our marriage, to the point where a few girls he worked with were encouraging him to leave me. Keep in mind that these were girls who had only met me a few times and didn't know me or our marriage at all. One of those was Julia. Once all that came to light, I looked at our cell phone records and realized that he and Julia had been texting each other a whole lot for some time, sometimes 30 and 40 times a day. I told Jason that I thought it was unfair for him to talk about our marriage to his manager, who also was younger and had no children and had never been married and didn't know me at all. He claimed that all that texting was just about work, that they were just friends, that nothing was going on. He went on to make fun of her, to tell me that she had no sense of humor at all, that she was dull and boring and snobby, stuck-up, had no personality. He put a stop to the texting, even though she openly threw a fit about it, in front of other co-workers, enough that people were asking what the hell was going on.
It took me a couple of months, but I got over it. Jason reassured me that he loved me, would never leave me, wanted only me, was committed to me and Reed and our marriage.
Fast-forward to him telling me that he wanted to separate. I looked at our cell records and found that he and Julia were talking again. When I asked him about it, his response was, "She's just being there for me. We're friends, and nothing else." It was about a week after that that I found out he was spending the night at her house. It was a few days after that that he admitted they were sleeping together.
Then about two months later he started telling my friends that he "has deep, strong feelings" for Julia that he's had "for a very long time". About a week after he left me, he admitted that he thought about moving to California with her. Now he's pressuring me to allow Reed to hang out with her. I have to say, I have a lot of reservations. It's not because it's Jason's new girlfriend; it's because it's a girl who has been after my husband for years, a girl who has met Reed and knows we had a life and child and a history and didn't give a fuck about it.
Also, really, who would want him? Jason now has two divorces; he's left two woman and three children behind. Is this what's attractive now?
And this isn't even getting into all the bullshit he's fed me. Two weeks before he left, I could tell something was wrong, and I asked, "What's going on? Are you going to leave me?" His response: "I love you. I would never leave you. You're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere." And that ain't paraphrasing; that's what he told me.
The day he left, I asked him if he could please not date anyone until after we were divorced, if that was what was going to happen. He said yes.
Anyway, here we are. We're signing the papers tomorrow. I've been through a lot in a short amount of time. I've cried and begged and despaired and grieved and begged some more and pleaded and lamented and feared and avoided and every other possible option. But I think, I think, that I've come to terms. I don't want to be with Jason if he doesn't love me any more, which I'm pretty sure is the case. I don't want an unhappy marriage, I don't want Jason with me out of obligation. My love for him was so intense and all-encompassing that it was hard for me to see out of it, hard for me to see a way to exist without him in my life. Fortunately for me I have Reed and my girls, so I've made it.
And I've made it to a really, really happy place. I know that there will probably be more sadness, more loss felt, but right now I'm able to truthfully say, "Okay, this if life, this is what's happened, and I'm better off because of it."
I've met a boy.
I've met a boy.
I'm not sure what to say about it right now. I can say that he makes me laugh, makes me feel light, makes me feel like there is a lot of life to live that I haven't even had a taste of yet. He makes me feel like I am lovely, have something to offer, am worthwhile, that I have worth. He makes me feel like the way I am is okay, is better than okay, is desirable. I am remembering that I am funny, smart, pretty, fun. I am remembering that I am good mother, that I am responsible, that I am good. I am remembering that I am good.
I am remembering that I am good. Goddamnit for it taking a boy to make me remember it, but isn't it good that I remembered? I think so.
We'll see what happens from here. I'm just happy to be happy. To be able to laugh and smile without feeling scared, guilty, about it. To be able to look forward, without shame. To be able to yearn in a happy way, instead of in a sad way. To be able to talk to someone who is excited about what's to come.
I'm back, for anyone who might still look here. I ain't going anywhere. Except maybe to Mississippi.
In the middle of January, Jason left me. He came home from work one day and said he thought we should separate, that he needed some time alone, and I cried and begged and pleaded and told him I loved him and wanted to be with him and Reed needs his dad and so on. That evening I went to Kristi's and tried to work it out in my head and couldn't come up with much. The next morning he told me he didn't want to separate, he wanted a divorce. I totally fell apart. I cried and puked and begged and cried some more. I didn't eat for days. I cried for days.
The only thing that kept me from totally falling off the deep end was Reed, daily routine, stuff to do. And being unemployed, there wasn't always stuff to do. I see-sawed back and forth between dealing and totally not dealing. Well, honestly the other thing that kept me from falling off the deepend was my collection of the best girls on the planet, my girls, who would answer the phone any time, answer my crazy texts at any time, and remind me that this, RIGHT HERE, is reality, and I can deal with it and move on.
And that right there, the fact that my only option was to deal with it and move on, was the hardest to grasp. I kept waiting for Jason to come to his senses, to realize that he couldn't live without me, to realize that he'd made a terrible mistake, to realize how terrible this would be for Reed. But over the weeks it slowly and painfully became clear that that wasn't going to happen.
It took about a week for me to nag Jason into admitting he was spending time with someone else, 13 days for me to badger Jason into admitting that he was fucking her. The night that he admitted that, he told me that I'm crazy, that I have problems, why wouldn't I just let him go, that I was abnormal for wanting to know what he was doing and who he was with.
Julia, the girl that Jason is with now, is someone we've had problems with in the past. I never wrote about it, because I wanted to keep some part of our lives private. Two years ago Jason and I were having some marital problems, and it came to my attention that he'd taken nude photos of a girl without my knowledge, and that he'd been talking to people he worked with pretty extensively about our marriage, to the point where a few girls he worked with were encouraging him to leave me. Keep in mind that these were girls who had only met me a few times and didn't know me or our marriage at all. One of those was Julia. Once all that came to light, I looked at our cell phone records and realized that he and Julia had been texting each other a whole lot for some time, sometimes 30 and 40 times a day. I told Jason that I thought it was unfair for him to talk about our marriage to his manager, who also was younger and had no children and had never been married and didn't know me at all. He claimed that all that texting was just about work, that they were just friends, that nothing was going on. He went on to make fun of her, to tell me that she had no sense of humor at all, that she was dull and boring and snobby, stuck-up, had no personality. He put a stop to the texting, even though she openly threw a fit about it, in front of other co-workers, enough that people were asking what the hell was going on.
It took me a couple of months, but I got over it. Jason reassured me that he loved me, would never leave me, wanted only me, was committed to me and Reed and our marriage.
Fast-forward to him telling me that he wanted to separate. I looked at our cell records and found that he and Julia were talking again. When I asked him about it, his response was, "She's just being there for me. We're friends, and nothing else." It was about a week after that that I found out he was spending the night at her house. It was a few days after that that he admitted they were sleeping together.
Then about two months later he started telling my friends that he "has deep, strong feelings" for Julia that he's had "for a very long time". About a week after he left me, he admitted that he thought about moving to California with her. Now he's pressuring me to allow Reed to hang out with her. I have to say, I have a lot of reservations. It's not because it's Jason's new girlfriend; it's because it's a girl who has been after my husband for years, a girl who has met Reed and knows we had a life and child and a history and didn't give a fuck about it.
Also, really, who would want him? Jason now has two divorces; he's left two woman and three children behind. Is this what's attractive now?
And this isn't even getting into all the bullshit he's fed me. Two weeks before he left, I could tell something was wrong, and I asked, "What's going on? Are you going to leave me?" His response: "I love you. I would never leave you. You're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere." And that ain't paraphrasing; that's what he told me.
The day he left, I asked him if he could please not date anyone until after we were divorced, if that was what was going to happen. He said yes.
Anyway, here we are. We're signing the papers tomorrow. I've been through a lot in a short amount of time. I've cried and begged and despaired and grieved and begged some more and pleaded and lamented and feared and avoided and every other possible option. But I think, I think, that I've come to terms. I don't want to be with Jason if he doesn't love me any more, which I'm pretty sure is the case. I don't want an unhappy marriage, I don't want Jason with me out of obligation. My love for him was so intense and all-encompassing that it was hard for me to see out of it, hard for me to see a way to exist without him in my life. Fortunately for me I have Reed and my girls, so I've made it.
And I've made it to a really, really happy place. I know that there will probably be more sadness, more loss felt, but right now I'm able to truthfully say, "Okay, this if life, this is what's happened, and I'm better off because of it."
I've met a boy.
I've met a boy.
I'm not sure what to say about it right now. I can say that he makes me laugh, makes me feel light, makes me feel like there is a lot of life to live that I haven't even had a taste of yet. He makes me feel like I am lovely, have something to offer, am worthwhile, that I have worth. He makes me feel like the way I am is okay, is better than okay, is desirable. I am remembering that I am funny, smart, pretty, fun. I am remembering that I am good mother, that I am responsible, that I am good. I am remembering that I am good.
I am remembering that I am good. Goddamnit for it taking a boy to make me remember it, but isn't it good that I remembered? I think so.
We'll see what happens from here. I'm just happy to be happy. To be able to laugh and smile without feeling scared, guilty, about it. To be able to look forward, without shame. To be able to yearn in a happy way, instead of in a sad way. To be able to talk to someone who is excited about what's to come.
I'm back, for anyone who might still look here. I ain't going anywhere. Except maybe to Mississippi.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Cleaning out my text messages.
- Who shit on this carpet?
- I wasn't prepared to set up a velvet rope at your funeral.
- Lord, the end is near. I just caught myself singing Nickelback. I hate myself.
- I just googled how to tell the difference between gray and blonde hair. It's harder than you think and google is USELESS.
- I just "fixed" my Uggs. Most I've done all day outside of karaoke.
- I totally wouldn't kick trainer Bob outta bed... but I don't have a penis so I don't think he'd be into it.
- I've never wanted to get someone, besides me, laid more in my life.
- Man, I just wanna chain smoke and drink beers. Merry Christmas.
- I got a feeling he works on a dairy farm.
- The fact that in that diagram the anus was represented by the green light = DIAGRAM FAIL.
- Dude, I just bought a puffy silver vest for $3 THANK GOD I'VE NEEDED ONE FOR SO LONG.
- The girl to your left is a hot-ass mess.
- Wet, slide, thighs, shaft, quivering. These are your sexting words!
- I'm on my knees in the dirt at work, and I'm slipping in vomit when I play. Why would I buy $100 jeans?
- I'm at Walmart and the car parked in front of me has 10- TEN- air fresheners hanging on the rear view.
- There's a black man! Yay! Leeds ain't racist!
- No on likes a butt munch!
- Jason is sitting here looking up and watching Lady Gaga videos on Youtube. Hello, apocalypse.
- My mom's playing her Hall and Oates Christmas album. Fuck yeah, Merry Christmas!
- Whatever. If you wanna dance me off, I'll serve you.
- I love that Chris' shorts are the deciding factor.
- My kid just punched me in the stomach even after I told him I'm not feeling well. NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE IMPORTANCE OF BIRTH CONTROL.
- Now it's watery pickle poop in his pants.
- Wa-oh. I am wearing a lot of make-up.
- You need to send me dirty texts.
- I wasn't prepared to set up a velvet rope at your funeral.
- Lord, the end is near. I just caught myself singing Nickelback. I hate myself.
- I just googled how to tell the difference between gray and blonde hair. It's harder than you think and google is USELESS.
- I just "fixed" my Uggs. Most I've done all day outside of karaoke.
- I totally wouldn't kick trainer Bob outta bed... but I don't have a penis so I don't think he'd be into it.
- I've never wanted to get someone, besides me, laid more in my life.
- Man, I just wanna chain smoke and drink beers. Merry Christmas.
- I got a feeling he works on a dairy farm.
- The fact that in that diagram the anus was represented by the green light = DIAGRAM FAIL.
- Dude, I just bought a puffy silver vest for $3 THANK GOD I'VE NEEDED ONE FOR SO LONG.
- The girl to your left is a hot-ass mess.
- Wet, slide, thighs, shaft, quivering. These are your sexting words!
- I'm on my knees in the dirt at work, and I'm slipping in vomit when I play. Why would I buy $100 jeans?
- I'm at Walmart and the car parked in front of me has 10- TEN- air fresheners hanging on the rear view.
- There's a black man! Yay! Leeds ain't racist!
- No on likes a butt munch!
- Jason is sitting here looking up and watching Lady Gaga videos on Youtube. Hello, apocalypse.
- My mom's playing her Hall and Oates Christmas album. Fuck yeah, Merry Christmas!
- Whatever. If you wanna dance me off, I'll serve you.
- I love that Chris' shorts are the deciding factor.
- My kid just punched me in the stomach even after I told him I'm not feeling well. NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE IMPORTANCE OF BIRTH CONTROL.
- Now it's watery pickle poop in his pants.
- Wa-oh. I am wearing a lot of make-up.
- You need to send me dirty texts.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Lindsey sent this to me, and I love it.
My favorite part is "Imagine ten thousand flies simultaneously grabbing you."
Monday, January 11, 2010
The other night Jason asked if I had any new blog posts coming up, and all I could think was, "..."
Life for me has been a mindless routine lately, a lot of Get up, Get Reed to school, Clean kitchen, Do laundry, Apply for jobs, Dinner, Get Reed ready for bed, Mess around for a while, Go to bed.
I've been unemployed for just over 4 months now, I've applied for lots and lots of jobs in lots of different fields, and I haven't had a single interview.
Today I'm feeling just a bit discouraged and pessimistic. It's dramatic to say, but I've been constantly haunted lately by decisions, bad and good, mine and those of others, and how they've changed our lives in the past couple of years. I'm having a lot of nightmares, not sleeping well, feeling anxious and pukey, stuck, impotent. The logical part of me knows that things will change, get better, but there's still a tiny part of me that just can't see out of this right now.
Anyway, there's my magical post for today. We're headed to Mobile to photograph a wedding at the end of this month, and I'm looking forward to getting out of town for a couple of days. Perhaps I'll be able to clear my head a bit then.
Life for me has been a mindless routine lately, a lot of Get up, Get Reed to school, Clean kitchen, Do laundry, Apply for jobs, Dinner, Get Reed ready for bed, Mess around for a while, Go to bed.
I've been unemployed for just over 4 months now, I've applied for lots and lots of jobs in lots of different fields, and I haven't had a single interview.
Today I'm feeling just a bit discouraged and pessimistic. It's dramatic to say, but I've been constantly haunted lately by decisions, bad and good, mine and those of others, and how they've changed our lives in the past couple of years. I'm having a lot of nightmares, not sleeping well, feeling anxious and pukey, stuck, impotent. The logical part of me knows that things will change, get better, but there's still a tiny part of me that just can't see out of this right now.
Anyway, there's my magical post for today. We're headed to Mobile to photograph a wedding at the end of this month, and I'm looking forward to getting out of town for a couple of days. Perhaps I'll be able to clear my head a bit then.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
The goose done gotten fat.
Lordy, y'all: EXHAUSTION. We've finally finished Christmasing, though, and let me just tell you, we've done Christmas six different times in the past week, and I'm glad we're done.
Yesterday we drove to Tennessee to see Jason's mom's family, something I've done once before. It didn't go so swell the first time, or at least the drive home didn't, and this time I honestly thought, "Reed's four now; it'll be fine." And it really was mostly fine, but about two hours outside of Birmingham Reed suddenly started freaking out. He yelled and screamed and cried, mainly because he wanted to get out of his seat and sit in my lap. We kept explaining booster seats and seat belts and air bags and THE LAW and shit, trying to tell him all the reasons why he couldn't do that, to no avail. It sucked pretty bad, listening to my kid scream and watching him writhe and trying not to panic and freak out.
But we made it, and I remembered that all last week I kept telling myself, if I can just make it to Monday, I'll be okay. So here I am on Monday, and I am okay. Tonight our book club meets to discuss Travels In the Scriptorium by Paul Auster, and let me just tell you THAT SHIT IS WEIRD, so I think it'll be a good meeting.
Now, onward ho to 2010.
Yesterday we drove to Tennessee to see Jason's mom's family, something I've done once before. It didn't go so swell the first time, or at least the drive home didn't, and this time I honestly thought, "Reed's four now; it'll be fine." And it really was mostly fine, but about two hours outside of Birmingham Reed suddenly started freaking out. He yelled and screamed and cried, mainly because he wanted to get out of his seat and sit in my lap. We kept explaining booster seats and seat belts and air bags and THE LAW and shit, trying to tell him all the reasons why he couldn't do that, to no avail. It sucked pretty bad, listening to my kid scream and watching him writhe and trying not to panic and freak out.
But we made it, and I remembered that all last week I kept telling myself, if I can just make it to Monday, I'll be okay. So here I am on Monday, and I am okay. Tonight our book club meets to discuss Travels In the Scriptorium by Paul Auster, and let me just tell you THAT SHIT IS WEIRD, so I think it'll be a good meeting.
Now, onward ho to 2010.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
2009. 2010.
Okay y'all, 2009 is almost over. FUCK, it has been a hard year. Every year is a hard year, and I keep saying "I hope that this coming year is better, easier, happier, calmer" and CLEARLY I am jinxing us because it just keeps getting harder and crazier.
This year has been long. I lost my job, Kane and Jude stopped coming to see us, there were fights and drama, we lost our house and moved in with my mom, and things in general were just weird and creepy.
There were good times, though. There was much drinking, karaoking, dancing.
We continued on with Drunk Psychology, had lots of fun with it, even took it to New Orleans.
We went to Costa Rica and had so much fun WITH NO GODDAMN AIR CONDITIONING.
But there was beer, so it was okay.
We won that contest, the one called "Drive To Tennessee and Pay $175 For the Dog Who Farts More Than Any Other Dog In the Whole World!!!" Duque is awesome and we love him. But his farts stink. Bad.
I turned 30.
Jason turned 35.
Reed turned 4.
My mom turned... 27?
I got to photograph Guster, one of my favorite bands ever.
Kristi and Chris graduated from law school, passed the bar, and got married.
Reed was their cute-ass- if very ornery- ring bearer.
I made some new friends...
And spent time with some old ones...
Jason and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. The fact that we've managed to stay together, to stay in love, to keep respecting each other and keep wanting to be with each other when things have been as hard as they have on every front, is proof that if you work hard enough you can achieve anything in this world.
We got a one-eared kitten who lives in our Christmas tree.
And I managed to stick pretty closely to my resolution, to be more upfront about my feelings, what's going on in my head and heart. It hasn't always been easy, but I've tried to weigh the pros and cons in the situations and experiences in my life and bite the bullet and speak up when necessary.
Here's to hoping that I'm still around, both in the blogging world and in the world at large, at the end of 2010. This ride just keeps getting bumpier, but screw it, I've got beer.
This year has been long. I lost my job, Kane and Jude stopped coming to see us, there were fights and drama, we lost our house and moved in with my mom, and things in general were just weird and creepy.
There were good times, though. There was much drinking, karaoking, dancing.
We continued on with Drunk Psychology, had lots of fun with it, even took it to New Orleans.
We went to Costa Rica and had so much fun WITH NO GODDAMN AIR CONDITIONING.
But there was beer, so it was okay.
We won that contest, the one called "Drive To Tennessee and Pay $175 For the Dog Who Farts More Than Any Other Dog In the Whole World!!!" Duque is awesome and we love him. But his farts stink. Bad.
I turned 30.
Jason turned 35.
Reed turned 4.
My mom turned... 27?
I got to photograph Guster, one of my favorite bands ever.
Kristi and Chris graduated from law school, passed the bar, and got married.
Reed was their cute-ass- if very ornery- ring bearer.
I made some new friends...
And spent time with some old ones...
Jason and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. The fact that we've managed to stay together, to stay in love, to keep respecting each other and keep wanting to be with each other when things have been as hard as they have on every front, is proof that if you work hard enough you can achieve anything in this world.
We got a one-eared kitten who lives in our Christmas tree.
And I managed to stick pretty closely to my resolution, to be more upfront about my feelings, what's going on in my head and heart. It hasn't always been easy, but I've tried to weigh the pros and cons in the situations and experiences in my life and bite the bullet and speak up when necessary.
Here's to hoping that I'm still around, both in the blogging world and in the world at large, at the end of 2010. This ride just keeps getting bumpier, but screw it, I've got beer.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Sorry, Jesus, the inn is full.
So you know how we have five people living together in this house? And two dogs? And did you know that we have, like, 74 cats?
Well apparently God decided that we don't have quite enough pussy around here, and he had someone drop off a kitten in a cardboard box on the front steps of the library where my mom works. So OF COURSE my mom is like, We have a new cat! Woo-hoo! And I was all, Hello, I'm Scrooge, no more fucking cats in this house, we have 192, that's enough cats. So my mom quietly brings the cat home last night regardless of what any of us think about it.
And it's pretty fucking cute. And it's a tiny kitten, and it's all, Mew, mew, I'm so little! And it wants Duque to be its mama. So I'm coming over to the dark side.
And now, today, it's favorite place is sitting on my shoulders, purring and emitting little Darth Vader breaths on my shoulder. The force is strong with this one.
Welcome home, number 411.
Well apparently God decided that we don't have quite enough pussy around here, and he had someone drop off a kitten in a cardboard box on the front steps of the library where my mom works. So OF COURSE my mom is like, We have a new cat! Woo-hoo! And I was all, Hello, I'm Scrooge, no more fucking cats in this house, we have 192, that's enough cats. So my mom quietly brings the cat home last night regardless of what any of us think about it.
And it's pretty fucking cute. And it's a tiny kitten, and it's all, Mew, mew, I'm so little! And it wants Duque to be its mama. So I'm coming over to the dark side.
And now, today, it's favorite place is sitting on my shoulders, purring and emitting little Darth Vader breaths on my shoulder. The force is strong with this one.
Welcome home, number 411.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Reed,
Today you are four. On this momentous occasion, all I can really think to say is, BEING A PARENT IS SO HARD. And this day means that I still have 14 more years of it to get through.
I love you so much that it makes it hard to say the following, but somehow I think I'll muddle through: HOLY JEEZ at those lungs you have. You've suddenly found yourself in a place in your life when it seems like a good idea to scream, writhe, and throw tantrums for an hour or so at a time, for terrible offenses done to you by your awful family such as opening the yogurt wrong, giving you a bath ever, or taking off your shoes before we try to put on your jeans.
Let me just reiterate: On Thanksgiving day, you got your pants wet so we had to change them, and you had an hour-and-a-half fit because I took your shoes off before I put the clean jeans on. Because taking the shoes off makes them get "all sprinkley". And I tried every thing I knew to appease you; I offered to put the shoes back on before putting the jeans on, to change your socks, to clean out the shoes (whatever that means), to give you a gold monkey, and to put on different shoes. You made it incredibly clear that the only thing you wanted, the ONLY acceptable option at that time, was to never have taken the shoes off in the first place.
Honestly I don't know what in hell you're talking about half the time, but as long as you're not yelling, I sure do like to listen. Recently you asked if I got "that" from across the street. I had no idea what "that" was, and I was too afraid to ask because I knew it might displease you for me not to know, so I flew by the seat of my pants and said "No, Kristi gave it to you." And you were absolutely enlightened and satisfied with my answer, so much so that you then wanted to know if she also has "Wall-E ones". I told you I don't know, but I'll sure ask.
Before I forget- Kristi, do you have Wall-E ones?
Anyways, Reed, you are testing every limit I got to the point where I think, I will never be the same, some of these things will never go back to the way they once were, and it's not a bad thing, only a weird thing. Honestly I can't describe how weird it is to be a parent, to have known you when you were a squiggly baby, and then a tottering toddler, and now a little boy.
One day you were running through the house making car noises, and I suddenly looked at Jason and said, "Oh, Christ, one day he'll be a teenager." Because that's part of this whole parenting thing for me: I frequently forget that all these periods, these moments in time, are only moments, are finite. I remember when you were a teeny baby, and I was so tired, and I was telling Ma that I wasn't sure if I'd make it. She said, "Just remember that none of this is forever. It only lasts a little while." I have since passed that little jewel on to most of the pregnant women I've known and some of the non-pregnant women who talk about having kids one day because, for me, it was so easy to think, Okay, here it is, this is the rest of my life, this sleeping for an hour or two at a time and always feeling sweaty and scared and anxious and nauseated and wrong and unsure.
Point is, I remind myself of that fact all the time, that this won't last long, that before I know it you'll be all grown and I'll be going, Wait, where did my time go with my baby? Because I already listen to you sing songs and describe movies and shows and watch you draw pictures and think, Where did my time go with my baby? Thank the good Lord that, right now, you'll still kiss and hug me, even in front of "your children" at the daycare. And a couple of months ago I spied you holding two stuffed dogs up and pressing their mouths together, making kissing noises. HA. Sometimes you're sweet as pie.
For at least a little longer, I'm going to keep thinking of you as my sweet baby, even though I know you're not a baby any more. Because even if they're few and far between, I still get moments where you snuggle in my lap, or kiss my cheek, or tell me you missed me, or stroke my hair, just because you feel like it.
I love you,
Mom
Today you are four. On this momentous occasion, all I can really think to say is, BEING A PARENT IS SO HARD. And this day means that I still have 14 more years of it to get through.
I love you so much that it makes it hard to say the following, but somehow I think I'll muddle through: HOLY JEEZ at those lungs you have. You've suddenly found yourself in a place in your life when it seems like a good idea to scream, writhe, and throw tantrums for an hour or so at a time, for terrible offenses done to you by your awful family such as opening the yogurt wrong, giving you a bath ever, or taking off your shoes before we try to put on your jeans.
Let me just reiterate: On Thanksgiving day, you got your pants wet so we had to change them, and you had an hour-and-a-half fit because I took your shoes off before I put the clean jeans on. Because taking the shoes off makes them get "all sprinkley". And I tried every thing I knew to appease you; I offered to put the shoes back on before putting the jeans on, to change your socks, to clean out the shoes (whatever that means), to give you a gold monkey, and to put on different shoes. You made it incredibly clear that the only thing you wanted, the ONLY acceptable option at that time, was to never have taken the shoes off in the first place.
Honestly I don't know what in hell you're talking about half the time, but as long as you're not yelling, I sure do like to listen. Recently you asked if I got "that" from across the street. I had no idea what "that" was, and I was too afraid to ask because I knew it might displease you for me not to know, so I flew by the seat of my pants and said "No, Kristi gave it to you." And you were absolutely enlightened and satisfied with my answer, so much so that you then wanted to know if she also has "Wall-E ones". I told you I don't know, but I'll sure ask.
Before I forget- Kristi, do you have Wall-E ones?
Anyways, Reed, you are testing every limit I got to the point where I think, I will never be the same, some of these things will never go back to the way they once were, and it's not a bad thing, only a weird thing. Honestly I can't describe how weird it is to be a parent, to have known you when you were a squiggly baby, and then a tottering toddler, and now a little boy.
One day you were running through the house making car noises, and I suddenly looked at Jason and said, "Oh, Christ, one day he'll be a teenager." Because that's part of this whole parenting thing for me: I frequently forget that all these periods, these moments in time, are only moments, are finite. I remember when you were a teeny baby, and I was so tired, and I was telling Ma that I wasn't sure if I'd make it. She said, "Just remember that none of this is forever. It only lasts a little while." I have since passed that little jewel on to most of the pregnant women I've known and some of the non-pregnant women who talk about having kids one day because, for me, it was so easy to think, Okay, here it is, this is the rest of my life, this sleeping for an hour or two at a time and always feeling sweaty and scared and anxious and nauseated and wrong and unsure.
Point is, I remind myself of that fact all the time, that this won't last long, that before I know it you'll be all grown and I'll be going, Wait, where did my time go with my baby? Because I already listen to you sing songs and describe movies and shows and watch you draw pictures and think, Where did my time go with my baby? Thank the good Lord that, right now, you'll still kiss and hug me, even in front of "your children" at the daycare. And a couple of months ago I spied you holding two stuffed dogs up and pressing their mouths together, making kissing noises. HA. Sometimes you're sweet as pie.
For at least a little longer, I'm going to keep thinking of you as my sweet baby, even though I know you're not a baby any more. Because even if they're few and far between, I still get moments where you snuggle in my lap, or kiss my cheek, or tell me you missed me, or stroke my hair, just because you feel like it.
I love you,
Mom
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Come see me!
I'm in the Bottletree Craft Bazaar this year, and you should come down and see my jewelry, along with all the other gorgeous stuff here! I'm in the Avondale Bricks building on 41st street south and 2nd avenue.
Friday, December 04, 2009
Sorry; not much coming to the surface to put down these days. Things have been kind of muddling together, days and nights and weekdays and weekends. Thanksgiving was good, Jason's birthday was good, our anniversary was good, taking some bridal portraits was good. Now it's on to Reed's birthday, a wedding we're photographing, Christmas, and New Year's.
I've applied for some jobs but haven't gotten any phone calls. So for right now, just keeping on.
I've applied for some jobs but haven't gotten any phone calls. So for right now, just keeping on.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Giving thanks.
So it's Thanksgiving time again, so I thought I'd go the traditional route and write about what I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for having a roof over my head. In this time when so many people are dealing with foreclosure there are many who don't have any place to go, and there are more still who don't have a place as nice and roomy and comfortable as my mom's house. I know how lucky we are to have a place only a few miles from our house to move in, so close that it didn't have to change our daily routines, didn't change our driving time to work and Reed's daycare.
I'm thankful for my mom who isn't afraid to take care of her daughters who are grown and ought to be able to take care of themselves. I'm glad she still has the stamina to deal with us.
I'm thankful for having free time to write, to take pictures, to clean the house and do our laundry and cook supper. It's scary not having a job, and having to try and survive on Jason's income alone, but the silver lining is that I get moments to myself, time to think, to enjoy the silence.
I'm thankful for Duque, a dog that if he doesn't stop shitting in the house might become a roasted blue heeler and save us the money of buying a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. What I'm saying is STOP SHITTING IN THE HOUSE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
On that note, I'm thankful for Clorox wipes.
I'm thankful for my friends, the people who have helped me pick up the pieces an infinite number of times, and will likely do so infinitely more. My closest friends can split a six pack with me, comfort me when I'm crying, laugh with me when I'm laughing, and take me out for nachos. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to be there for me in good times and bad.
I'm thankful for Reed, my child who tests the limits of my patience (fairly short) and the limits of my sanity (about the size of a cocktail weenie) every single bleeding day. Yesterday my mom and I had Thanksgiving lunch with him at his school, and he ate an entire pile of collard greens and then proceeded to recite the books of the bible. All of 'em. He astonishes me daily, almost hourly, with his ability to roll with the punches, deal with life, and still find joy in odd places.
I'm thankful for Jason, the strangest, most patient, forgiving, ornery man I've ever known. He loves me even in my ugliest moments, even when every limit I possess has been breached and I am shaking and screaming and slamming doors and sterilizing door knobs. He loves me when I am pronouncing that we'll all die of the plague, when I'm buying too many shirts, when I'm covering all my food in hot sauce. I'm thankful for the laughter that we share, for our ability to joke with each other and giggle like all is right with the world. Happy 35th birthday Jason, and happy 6th anniversary. We've been through a lot in the past few years, and if I've learned anything it's that it's never over, things can always get worse, and all we can do is keep striving, keep persevering, and keep making jokes. I'm glad we're in this together.
Lastly, I'm thankful for beer and Mexican food, without which I probably would have thrown myself out a window by now.
I'm thankful for having a roof over my head. In this time when so many people are dealing with foreclosure there are many who don't have any place to go, and there are more still who don't have a place as nice and roomy and comfortable as my mom's house. I know how lucky we are to have a place only a few miles from our house to move in, so close that it didn't have to change our daily routines, didn't change our driving time to work and Reed's daycare.
I'm thankful for my mom who isn't afraid to take care of her daughters who are grown and ought to be able to take care of themselves. I'm glad she still has the stamina to deal with us.
I'm thankful for having free time to write, to take pictures, to clean the house and do our laundry and cook supper. It's scary not having a job, and having to try and survive on Jason's income alone, but the silver lining is that I get moments to myself, time to think, to enjoy the silence.
I'm thankful for Duque, a dog that if he doesn't stop shitting in the house might become a roasted blue heeler and save us the money of buying a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. What I'm saying is STOP SHITTING IN THE HOUSE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
On that note, I'm thankful for Clorox wipes.
I'm thankful for my friends, the people who have helped me pick up the pieces an infinite number of times, and will likely do so infinitely more. My closest friends can split a six pack with me, comfort me when I'm crying, laugh with me when I'm laughing, and take me out for nachos. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to be there for me in good times and bad.
I'm thankful for Reed, my child who tests the limits of my patience (fairly short) and the limits of my sanity (about the size of a cocktail weenie) every single bleeding day. Yesterday my mom and I had Thanksgiving lunch with him at his school, and he ate an entire pile of collard greens and then proceeded to recite the books of the bible. All of 'em. He astonishes me daily, almost hourly, with his ability to roll with the punches, deal with life, and still find joy in odd places.
I'm thankful for Jason, the strangest, most patient, forgiving, ornery man I've ever known. He loves me even in my ugliest moments, even when every limit I possess has been breached and I am shaking and screaming and slamming doors and sterilizing door knobs. He loves me when I am pronouncing that we'll all die of the plague, when I'm buying too many shirts, when I'm covering all my food in hot sauce. I'm thankful for the laughter that we share, for our ability to joke with each other and giggle like all is right with the world. Happy 35th birthday Jason, and happy 6th anniversary. We've been through a lot in the past few years, and if I've learned anything it's that it's never over, things can always get worse, and all we can do is keep striving, keep persevering, and keep making jokes. I'm glad we're in this together.
Lastly, I'm thankful for beer and Mexican food, without which I probably would have thrown myself out a window by now.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Cleaning out my text messages.
- Should I be this excited about applying for a job that, in the listing, has a job "discription"?
- That's okay, yankee, go ahead and shoot me. It's hot outside and I don't wanna milk the cow.
- I guess I should suck it up. : * That's an emoticon of sucking.
- The hipsters have invaded Trussville. I repeat, the hipsters have invaded. Over.
- I've spent all day writing about anal fistulas. It's not the same as a fissure, which was my hope.
- You gay fucking gypsies.
- I wish I knew how to read.
- Rad! Fuck em! WE ALREADY BEEN GOTTEN OUT!
- And here's a pirate sucking it up: . *
- Oh, Lord, and the cooking and the walking and the shooting and the turkey-plucking. The Civil War was GROSS, dude.
- We at ur hows, steelin ur theengs. That's lol cat.
- The guys who aren't worth stalking are stalking you.
- Hipsters in Trussville! How did they ever get in?
- I GOT this shit. I am so ghetto.
- "What you about to learn is they ain't no balm in Gilead."
- That's okay, yankee, go ahead and shoot me. It's hot outside and I don't wanna milk the cow.
- I guess I should suck it up. : * That's an emoticon of sucking.
- The hipsters have invaded Trussville. I repeat, the hipsters have invaded. Over.
- I've spent all day writing about anal fistulas. It's not the same as a fissure, which was my hope.
- You gay fucking gypsies.
- I wish I knew how to read.
- Rad! Fuck em! WE ALREADY BEEN GOTTEN OUT!
- And here's a pirate sucking it up: . *
- Oh, Lord, and the cooking and the walking and the shooting and the turkey-plucking. The Civil War was GROSS, dude.
- We at ur hows, steelin ur theengs. That's lol cat.
- The guys who aren't worth stalking are stalking you.
- Hipsters in Trussville! How did they ever get in?
- I GOT this shit. I am so ghetto.
- "What you about to learn is they ain't no balm in Gilead."
Monday, November 16, 2009
Man, oh man, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And it's always darkest before the dawn. And just when you think things can't get any weirder, they do. And some other random, cliche words and phrases and people say.
A lot of things are coming, like Jason's birthday, Thanksgiving, bridal portraits, Reed's birthday, a couple of weddings, and Christmas. This time of year is both fun and incredibly stressful, and lately I'm focusing more on the stress than the fun, unfortunately.
But, as they say, this too shall pass.
Fuck.
A lot of things are coming, like Jason's birthday, Thanksgiving, bridal portraits, Reed's birthday, a couple of weddings, and Christmas. This time of year is both fun and incredibly stressful, and lately I'm focusing more on the stress than the fun, unfortunately.
But, as they say, this too shall pass.
Fuck.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Ida is showing herself here today, and I've decided to wait the weather out inside, under a blanket.
I took a couple of pictures from various windows in the house.
Days like today make me incredibly thankful that I have a roof over my head.
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