Category: friendship

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

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Yes, I stole that from Forrest Gump but, unfortunately, it wholly applies to me and my latest awkward (to say the least) interaction with humans in a professional setting.

Let’s take it back a couple of weeks. I get a text from a friend of mine who is a principal at a local elementary school. She informs me that someone in her office is leaving, she will have a vacancy and asks if I would possibly be interested. Now, we all know my struggles with going back to work. I think I want to, I step up to the plate, I take a couple of swings, but ultimately I strike out looking (hello baseball metaphors). But when she reached out, I felt like it was a sign from up above – God, Jesus, Ash, Bogey, Grandma or some totally random deady looking out for a gal. This was the same job I turned down at another elementary school in our area, that I have completely questioned why I turned it down almost daily. Also, (I shudder to use this term because it is thrown out so willy nilly these days but for lack of a better one) Colt has been the victim of some bullying behavior in his current school, and, as any child in his situation would, has some low key anxiety on the regular about attending said school. So, in my little mama brain (and I do emphasize the world little here – you’ll see why shortly), I think I’ll get this job, it will get me out of this touch of depression I’ve got going on and Colt can start fresh, with me in tow, at a new school and all will be well with the world.

Now, the last time I was offered this job, albeit at a different school, I went in for an “interview” but I use that term very loosely. I basically just had a little chat with my kids’ former principal, she called some references and she offered me the job. There was no formal panel of humans all staring at me, there was no double sided sheet of paper with intimidating questions and there certainly wasn’t anybody writing down my answers to said intimidating questions.

If you haven’t already guessed, my friend asked me to come in for an interview. I said yes assuming it would be much like the previous interview. So I walked in with my head held high, checked in with the receptionist and waited for my friend. And my friend did come. But she did not come alone. No! No! No! She had a posse. And by posse I mean it was her and 2 other women. But it was enough to make me shit my proverbial britches. Which I realize is stupid. I’m an intelligent woman. I have a lot to offer. But I forgot all of that yesterday.

I’m going to make this short and sweet, I think. My friend introduces me to her posse. She calls one of the women a rockstar to which I reply “remind me to get her autograph before I leave.” Everybody giggles a little and the interview begins. As previously stated, all the interview gang have very official looking folders with very official looking papers with very official looking questions. The posse are all holding their very official looking pens and they take turns asking these very official questions. And I get it. I know that I am supposed to talk about how great I am, what an asset I am, how my biggest weakness is that I’m a workaholic. I know all the things. I went to college. I’ve had jobs. I’m very capable.

Unfortunately, my nerves broke my filter. Absolutely did not work. Now, had I been auditioning for Saturday Night Live, perhaps we could have called this a success. Alas, I was not. I was interviewing for the school data manager position. I know, it sounds like a very sexy job. And honestly, I would probably be quite good at it. But my interview was NOT a reflection of the skills one would need to successfully manage data like a boss.

For example, I was asked to define confidentiality, and I started off fairly strong, having a background as a paralegal, I’m pretty familiar with confidentiality. I should have expanded on that. Instead, I said the first rule about fight club is don’t talk about fight club. I shit you not. Those words came out of my mouth. I was also asked 3 words a colleague would use to describe me. What I should have said was smart, efficient and hardworking. Instead, I came back with FUNNY. Because who isn’t looking for a funny data manager?! I then noticed some music in the background and inquired as to its origins. It was music class that was happening right across the hall or somewhere in the near vicinity. So obviously I said that for my next trick I would do an interpretive dance to the music but I was really going to need them to pep it up a bit. What in the fuck is wrong with me? The answer is simple. A lot.

I apologized to my friend afterward. I’m certain I totally embarrassed her. I’m a giant ass. So if you’re feeling bad about yourself today, just think of the idiot that is me. It will perk you right up.

The first rule about fight club is don’t talk about fight club. Jesus take the wheel…

The Art of Moving On (Month 8)

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Dear Jonesie:

If I’m being completely honest here, I almost totally forgot that today was the 12th of the month. In my defense, I fear my brain may be partially melted from overexposure to heat and sun this past weekend. Jack had 2 double headers in 2 days in the brutal, unrelenting heat of southeastern Virginia. Seriously, at one point I put ice cubes in my bra and felt very minimal relief. Also tried some down my back. Not much better. Also forgot to bring the stupid canopy to guard us a bit from the hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch sun so today we just kept moving further and further away from the field to seek shelter and shade in the trees. Hell, towards the end of the game, I wasn’t even watching, which you know is very unlike me. Colt was sort of a trooper. Yesterday he fell asleep for a while, woke up and cried for a while. My mama thought he might was coming down with the Covid, but, thankfully, once I took him to the car and let him sit in the A/C for a while, and eat some Star Wars fruit snacks (what can’t they cure?!), he was back to his nonstop chattering self (seriously, he’s so much like you, it’s ridiculous. It was easier with you because I could just tell you to shut up or walk away or even leave. Can’t so much do any of those things with a 5 year old). Today he handled it much better.

Our oldest boy played great yesterday. He pitched well, he did well at short stop and hit some bombs. Today, not so much. That’s the nature of our boy, though. I’ll defend him a bit and say he was nervous today, playing with a team he only knew a handful of kids on and a coach he had never met until today. Yesterday was also a long day that ended late and today started early. And, again, the heat. So, Tiger Mom here will give him a bit of a pass.

Anyway, back to my fried egg status brain, I was sitting at dinner, it was the boys, my parents and me and we’re just chatting and I randomly half shouted “SHIT, it’s the 12th of the month!!” To which Jack replied so what. To which I then reminded him (well, after counting on 2 hands)  it was the 8 month anniversary of your death. To which he replied “so what? It’s not like it’s been a year.” So, yeah, he’s still 10. Ha!

The truth is, we’ve been super busy. Baseball is in full swing so that consumes a lot of our time. And in between, we are going to the beach, pool, sound. We are sharing meals with friends. We are over using the grill and trying to avoid the stove. We are covered in mosquito bites from staying outdoors way too late. We are dancing by fire pits, we are staying at the beach until dusk, we are laughing and singing and finding joy in as many ways as possible. We are making new friends while still enjoying the old. Colt is fishing as much as he can. Jack is still all about the sports while adding a couple of new favorites – surfing and skimming (he could use some help with both but I’m not quite the person for that job). And I am loving watching them grow and change. Their wings our spreading and it won’t be long before they are ready to take flight (shit’s getting real deep now, you got any waders where you are?!). As corny as it is though, it’s also 100% fact.

As for me, I am in a good place. Sometimes I drink too much. Sometimes I smoke too many cigarettes (sorry but you know how I love a smoke sometimes). I stay up too late and wake too early, never quite getting enough sleep. But I am well. My family is amazing. My friends are incredible. I’m looking forward to the future while also completely embracing where I’m at today. (There I go getting all corny again. WTF is wrong with me?!)

I’m not sure if you want to hear this or not, but, for the most part, we are happy. We were in a dark place for a while, I’m not going to lie. But we can’t stay in that dark place. I think you’d actually be really proud of how we’ve dug our way out. It did get ugly for a while, I’m not going to sugar coat it. And I’m willing to bet my left arm there will be more ugly in the future. That’s ok. We can handle it. Right now, though, we are going to soak up all the happy, sun, friendships and love that we can. Because that is what makes our world go round.

We have found a sense of peace. Maybe it’s acceptance. Maybe we’re just too busy to think about how sad we are supposed to be. Maybe it’s a combination of a million different things. Whatever it is, we are happy and enjoying all of life as much as we can. In the words of Creepy Jonathon, it is well with our soul.

Certainly we miss you. Certainly we think and speak of you often. But those assholes were fucking right. Eventually, time heals all (most) wounds. Not to say we’re not still wounded, because we always will be, but the more time goes by, the better we get at going by with it. Because that’s how it has to be.

Love you always,

Poopsie

 

 

S@$&’s Gettin’ Real

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Ash was probably the most private person I have ever met. Which is funny because private I am not. Clearly. He never wanted to know about any of my past relationships, hated seeing old photos, especially if I was drunk in them, which let’s face it, was pretty much the entirety of my first 2 years of college. He was tight lipped on his own previous relationships also, which drove me absolutely batty!!

He was always evasive, never answered my questions and just generally gave me no information regarding his life pre-me. I guess I eventually learned to accept it. Or it at least didn’t send me packing.

Ash never met my parents until my brother invited him to dinner, shortly before he moved away. I guess I had adopted some of his habits of keeping everything private? I don’t know. I think I was just so enamored with him, I didn’t want anything to screw it up! (Not that my family is crazy or anything, I just suffered from massive anxiety (still so) and just wanted him to love them like I love them) It was different for me. My boyfriend in college became an extension of my family. I mean, shit, he spent more time with my mom working on puzzles than I ever did! But Ash was different. He grew up worlds apart from me. His family life was unlike any one I had ever been a part of.

And I use that “a part of” very loosely. I didn’t meet Ash’s mom until we were living together in Durango, CO and Ash didn’t exactly tell her he had a girlfriend, much less a girlfriend that was living with him. So that was fun. I don’t think I met his dad until I was already pregnant with Jack so it was really too late by that point if I decided to say fuck this noise! Which I may have had I met him a little earlier in the relationship. Kidding. Mostly.

Ash’s dad was a horse of a different color. He did not welcome me into their lives with open arms, he did not seem to like me and I’m pretty certain he would have preferred I never existed. In his life anyway. He’d probably have been fine if I was alive, just maybe not anywhere near him. He sat me down (after I upset him greatly by eating too much of his cantaloupe – he even bought another cantaloupe but informed me I couldn’t have any – true story) at one point and asked me what my intentions were. Ash and I were already engaged, I was pregnant, I thought it might be a little late at this point in the game for this talk. Either way, my gut reaction was to say to get the fuck out of dodge. Luckily, back then I was much better at holding my tongue and said something along the lines of I intend to marry your son in my home town in a month and that’s where you’ll find me until then.

And that’s what happened. I packed my bags and went home while Ash stayed in Texas and rented us an apartment as close to the hospital as humanly possible. Ash’s dad and I never bonded, he mostly looked at me like I was stupid, but he did learn my name so it wasn’t all bad.

Where we come from shapes us into who we are. I love to know the details. It’s in the details that you figure out a person, why they are the way they are, what makes them tick, how they handle obstacles thrown in their direction and how they even find joy and purpose. I understand why Ash stayed so guarded. It was a defense mechanism. But I regret that I know almost nothing, to this day, after 13 years, 7+ moves, 2 kids and 2 dogs and one hellacious cancer journey, that I barely know a damn thing about his past. And likewise, he didn’t want to know about mine.

Perhaps that’s why I’m an open book now. I never don’t want to know about the people I love again. I want it all. Even the ugly and the awful. Because If we can’t be real, what the hell is the purpose of any of it?