For now, I think I’ll go back to posting photos.  I miss that.  Hopefully it will also encourage me to actually cull the images from my recent vacation and edit them.

This is the first scenery photograph that I took on a recent trip with my boyfriend.  The light was delicious, and the environment was peaceful and serene.   It was the first photo from the trip, the first of about 1500, and ended up being one of my favorites.  :)

It was actually one of the first photos that I have taken in a LONG time, months and months, that was just for fun.

I finished my summer class.  It involved a ton of textbook reading, which is rarely interesting, and the six week duration of the class meant the pace was VERY fast.  I earned 100% on all of my papers, though.  I walked away with an A.   Not a bad way to kick off going back to school.

Also, to fulfill one of my B31 goals, in the spring I enrolled in an online language class that I purchased through Groupon.  I did not like it.  At all.  I’m glad it wasn’t expensive, although it seems as though I definitely got what I paid for.  I gave it a shot, though, so I’m going to consider that goal met – although personally I have every intention of finding another class and continuing on.

My store has done amazingly well, I’ve just been far too busy to do much dyeing lately.  I’ve barely touched it in the last month.  I have a ton of stock here to dye, and people buy it right up, it’s foolish of me to not make the time for it.   I need to get on that this weekend!

I also participated in the Tour De Fleece – which is a giant community spin-a-long (as in hand-spinning fiber into yarn) that happens in conjunction with the Tour De France.  It had been a while since I had touched my spinning wheel, so it was nice to have that project to encourage me to use it.  I’ll have to post some pictures of the yumminess I created.

And lastly, but certainly not least, I have a new person in my life.  I admit that is taking up quite a bit of my time, which I am gladly and willingly giving.  There is no weirdness, nothing shady, no complications or bullshit.  He gives me absolutely nothing to be doubtful about, and that is a welcome and wonderful feeling – I forgot what that felt like.  I won’t say that he makes me happy, because I had already found my happiness again on my own.   I’ll just say that he accentuates and enhances my happiness greatly, and I’m feeling happier than ever these days.

Life is good in the land of Kellee.  What’s been new with you?

I mentioned in my last post that I have arranged to go back to school.  I’ve been taking an accelerated class this summer.  It’s only one class, but it is a six week class, so the workload due to the fast pace is more like taking three classes.  That has kept me busy.  Plus, the class is very reading intensive.  I’d rather do just about anything than read a textbook – especially history textbooks.  (Although, admittedly, I have found a few hilarious tidbits along the way. Sanabich is now one of my new favorite words, after all.)  I have about one week left, though, and then a six week break before the fall semester.  I’m looking forward to the semester, I’m taking some applied physics classes that should be interesting.  And I admit it, I’m also looking forward to the break!

I think the most interesting development since my last post is that I have opened a second Etsy store, and it has been much more successful than I would have ever guessed.  I’m thrilled and having a wonderful time.  No matter how much I dye every week, I can’t seem to keep more than 2 or 3 skeins in stock in the store, and that’s a good thing!  The name of my shop is Ethereal Fibers.  I’ve opened up on etsy, of course, and can be found here.  There are only a couple of skeins in stock right now, but you can check out my sold orders to get an idea of what I’ve been creating.

I’m in the process of working on some graphic design, and I may or may not start a second blog strictly for knitting and fiber related goodness.  I’m not sure, yet, but it’s been a lot of fun so far!   All the yarns are entered in the ravelry database, as are each of the associated photos.  Also, about the only photography I’ve had any time for has been photographing the yarn!

I’m also participating in Tour de Fleece, which is a huge spin-along that happens in conjunction with the Tour de France.  We have to spin (fiber) every day that they spin (on the bike).  I’m hoping to have a nice selection of handspun to show for myself by the end of it!  You may also remember that one of my B31 goals was to knit something that I’ve dyed, spun, and designed myself.  I have some of my own hand-dyed fiber ready to go, and I’ll be spinning that up as part of TdF.  Lots of fun!

There are some other things, but I have to start somewhere, so I’ll save that for another post.  I know that I need to not neglect my little corner of the interwebs like I have been.  More soon!

I’ve always been proud of the work I’ve done to support my family.  When I left my other job in the gaming industry to step in and take over here, I knew the extent to which I was helping them.  It is unlikely they would have found another person that could run and manage the business, handle all of the accounting, perform the mechanical engineering, speak Spanish, and handle the sometimes rigorous physical tasks that pop up on occasion; I’m suited for this job in a way that nobody else would be.  My versatility has become even more important as the economy has tanked – I’m the only person that can step in and perform every single function required to make this business run.

While it has sometimes been a heavy burden, being so responsible for my family’s well-being has been gratifying in its own way.  It has also meant that my educational goals have suffered.  Being one person performing the jobs that normally at least 2-3 people would perform has left me extremely busy.  There were years when I worked 7 days a week and barely had time to grab 5 or 6 hours of sleep at night, let alone attend class.

In years that weren’t so busy, I was still on call basically all of the time.  Having to drop everything and be somewhere for an emergency meeting at the drop of a hat was a very regular occurrence, it didn’t matter that I was supposed to be in class for a test.  Being informed at the last minute that I needed to pull an all-nighter to finish something by 8am the next morning happened frequently as well, regardless if I had classes that evening or not.  The unpredictable nature of my schedule made attending class very difficult.  I was able to circumvent some of that with online classes, but only so many classes are offered online.

That was always the right choice for the business and for my family, but clearly not the smartest choice for me.  I started college with nearly a years worth of credits under my belt from all of my AP classes in high school, so the fact that I’m 30 and haven’t managed to finish is very unsettling to me.

The current economic climate has allowed things to finally slow down, which has allowed my life to blossom again in many ways.  I feel certain that I can start kicking school’s ass.  I’m thrilled that I am officially enrolled in both Summer and Fall semesters.  I just hung up the phone with a professor who has agreed to allow me access into his class in the fall, which will be taken care of tomorrow.  Everything is on track.  I’ve never been particularly excited about school before, but that is exactly how I feel now.  I’m finally to the point where I refuse to watch life pass me by as I struggle on carrying everything by myself.  If things become busy again, someone else will just have to step up and help me.

Find out what I need to complete my degree and begin working on it.  Check!!

One of the things I wanted to do this year was to attend a local photography group.  On April 8th, I did just that.  A sweet friend of mine came along, both of us very excited about what was sure to be a very educational and interesting experience.

On the 2nd Friday of each month, this group holds an informative program where a speaker comes and discusses a certain aspect of photography, e.g. black and white photography, lighting, portraits, operating a photography business, etc.  This is one of their few functions that is open to anyone who might want to come and listen, and we decided this would be a great place to start before forking over cash becoming invested at a deeper level.

Friday arrives, and we found our way to the conference room, signed ourselves in, found seats together, and took a look around.  We gave each other the “arched eyebrow” look, and took another glance around the very crowded room.  I don’t typically say (or even think) things like this, but I’m quite certain we were the only “normal” people in this room.  It looked as though all the locals from Deliverance had thrown down their banjos, taken up a camera, and shown up for the meeting.  The very large man sitting next to me was wearing denim overalls, boots, and a straw hat.  I might be making the straw hat part up, but not intentionally; I SWEAR that is how I remember seeing him.  My friend (sitting next to me) texted me and asked, “Is it just me, or does it seem like we’re the only ones in here who haven’t been arrested for child molestation?”  It was creepy, to say the least.  Rarely in my life have I ever felt that truly uncomfortable in a room full of people, especially solely based on appearance.  It truly was THAT bad.  An alarm kept sounding in the back of my mind, wondering if perhaps they were planning on eating us after the program.

But it was all worth it, right?  We at least had an informative experience to counterbalance the awkwardness, right?

Sadly… no.  If only.  It just went downhill from there.

The first man that stood up to speak was from some sort of national photographic society and looked like Donald Sutherland’s pervy older brother.  That would have been fine, except he was a passive-aggressive asshole to boot.  He insisted on making snarky comments to random people.  The cherry on top was when he came over and sat between me and Overalls.  I wanted to elbow him in the face for being such a douche canoe politely inform him of his inappropriate and rude behavior.  I somehow managed to resist.

The main speaker – an elderly man who had recently had some sort of surgery – was up next, and he started out by warning us that he might have to haul ass out the door and to the bathroom at a moment’s notice.  He really was perfectly pleasant, but extremely long-winded and rather boring.  He was a long time member of the group, and once upon a time had been asked to prepare a program as a backup in case they had a speaker drop out at the last minute.  They decided tonight was the night he was going to do his program.

It COULD have been good.  It wasn’t.  He showed us 50 years worth of photos.  It went on for hours.  This might have been really enjoyable, but in that entire time there were about 5 shots that were remotely decent.  I’m not saying that as a photography snob, because I’m not, they were just truly not good.  Snap shots at best, with neither technical nor artistic merit, and he insisted on discussing each one in depth.

My friend and I kept looking at each other and wondering what the hell was going on.  I had seen some work from some of the group members, and it was excellent – so what the hell was this crap?  I don’t know if he chose these images because they were the best he had or because he thought he could spend the most time talking about them.

It finally, thankfully, came to an end.  We all but ran out of that room the moment we could, and immediately drove straight to the bar and had a much needed drink.

It was a painful evening.

I haven’t quite decided what I think about the group.  We both agreed that we likely went on the worst possible night to go when they were deviating from their norm, and that the usual presenters were probably much more enjoyable and educational.  I don’t know if I have it in me to go back and risk it, though.  :)  I very well might give it one more shot.  If there is a chance that the group is usually better than this and might actually provide a rewarding experience, I think it would probably be worth it.

Or perhaps I am just a glutton for punishment.

A couple of weeks ago I finally made it out to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist to check out my nose.  As I’ve mentioned before, I have no sense of smell.  I was a teenager before I even realized that, and I wasn’t bothered enough to really have it checked out.  This year, however, I had made it one of my goals to finally have my nose poked and prodded.

The med students in the office were all kinds of fascinated with me, since I’m a bit of a rarity.  The doctor came in, stuck several medieval torture devices up my nose, and said that everything looked fine.  He decided to send me for a head CT, to rule out any sort of mass in my brain causing the problem, but basically said that it was just “one of those things” and that there was nothing to be done about it, provided that the scan came back negative.  This was not news to me, and is basically why I had never bothered to go previously.

A few days later I went to have my scan.  I was asked several extremely poorly worded questions by the technician.  For example, she asked me if I was diabetic.  I am not.  I am, however, taking a medication that is generally used for diabetes, although not in my case, which is ultimately the information that she wanted to know.  Why not ask, “Are you taking X medication?” rather than, “Are you diabetic?”  That kind of stuff irritates me.  Ask the right questions!

The scan was quick and painless, and far less noisy and claustrophobic than I was expecting.  It was also very expensive.  I was not particularly pleased about that part, but hey – at least I’m well on my way through my deductible for the year.

The office called back a few days ago and let me know that my “scan was negative”, which is a relief.  Not so much for my sense of smell, I’m just glad to know there is nothing growing up there.  They also said, “The doctor said to come back in if you continue to have problems.”  I’m sorry, but how the hell am I supposed to interpret that?  If I continue to have problems?  Don’t the results of that scan indicate that I will permanently have this problem?  Meaning if I don’t magically start smelling sometime in the near future, that I need to come back in for another appointment?  That irritated me as well, why can’t medical professionals just be clear?

At the end of the day, though, I now know for sure that I’m not destined to smell.  I’m okay with that.  The only thing that has ever really upset me about not being able to smell is that I’ll never know how the people I love smell.  I’ll never smell my children, or the man that I love.  I’ll never smell something that will transport me back into memories of my grandfather, or something like that.  From everything I understand, scent memory is extremely powerful.  I’m sad for missing out on that, but I’m okay with this outcome; it is the one that I always expected, and I’m certainly used to not smelling a damn thing.

So – my friends – for once and for all, I can’t smell.  Please stop farting around me to see if I’m lying or not.

This caught the attention of Dante immediately.  We had a good laugh watching him stalk the lizard, and *POINT*.

Sound familiar?

That happened to me BIG TIME with my photos from my Before 30 hiking trip to Valley of Fire.  I looked at them the first time and felt entirely disappointed.  I just now took another look – and perhaps it’s the fact that I did not sleep at all last night – but I actually quite like a lot of these now.

Either way, it was a special trip with my girls and my new “nephew”, and I’m glad to have the mementos and eager to share them.  This will have to be a series of posts in order to share all of these photos; I’m not about to flood you with that many pictures in a single post.  I’ll probably share ten or twelve at a time.

This first set of photos is from our little hike up to Elephant Rock, which was hilarious.  We took this meandering, stumbling, uneven, winding (but short) hike on the designated path – only to arrive at our destination, which we promptly realized we had driven right past as it is literally on the side of the road.  It was probably a quarter of a mile round trip “hike” to arrive somewhere about thirty feet from our starting point.  We laughed our asses off when we got there, and walked back the thirty feet on the side of the road when we were ready to go back.

Also, yes the rocks are that red!  I did not enhance the red saturation in any of these photos at all.  I DID desaturate some of the other colors because the intensity of all the colors became overwhelming.  I think that is perhaps why I was initially put off from these photos; it was easier to appreciate the lovely red rock formation without a glaring, nearly too bright blue sky behind it.

So, any of my fiber loving friends, I can use your advice.  These are the results from dyeing earlier in the week, what do we think?  Sellable?  Etsy approved?

And so she came home with two.

I shared them once before, while they were cone heads after surgery.

I have decided these puppies are magical…

Their cute faces and adorable personalities have been specially designed to make me feel better.

This dark one is D’arcy – she has really grown into her face.  But she still looks like a goofball sometimes.

She is the sweetest dog ever, and the perfect cuddle buddy – happy to settle into the crook of your neck and stay there.

The light one is Bronte.  She’s incredibly sweet, and likes to be in the action and have attention as much as possible.

She’s also hilarious.  I call her the southern diva. She does this “swoon” thing where she just HAS to flop backwards in your arms.

I keep expecting her to raise her paw to her forehead and flutter her eyelids.

They have very different personalities, but they are both affectionate, sweet, and wonderful.

Not to mention gorgeous…

…although I might be biased.

They brighten even my darkest moods, and get me laughing when I don’t think it’s possible.

See?  Magical!

ANYWAY!  I’m trying to get back in the groove of things and catch up on my backlog of photos.  For a predominantly photography-driven blog, there hasn’t been much photography around here lately!  I hope to rectify that in the future and steer things back to what matters.

These are a few photos that I took in my mother’s yard right after Christmas.  That’s all, nothin’ fancy.  Just a few photos.  Although, I am sad to say that it became clear that I obviously left my camera on ISO 800 or 1600.  Grainy. Boo.

Coming soon I should have photos from the Valley of Fire hiking tip, my brief downtown photo walk, and a super cute puppy photo shoot.

On one hand, I feel great.  I’m sleeping better than I have in years.  The almost nightly nightmares are gone – I’ve had one, last night, in an entire month.  Hours can go by without thinking about any of this mess, where as for years it has been a constant thought at the front of my mind.  I am having so much fun, these days.  For so long there was someone whispering in my ear that they loved me and would never hurt me again, while they were trying to smother me with a pillow as forcefully as possible.  The pillow is finally gone, as are the drops of vocal poison in my ear.  There’s no longer a crazy bastard trying to smother the life out of me while simultaneously yelling at me and punishing me for having the nerve to wither up and die under the effort.

But…

There is this other part that sneaks up on me.  The part that is heart broken and sad.  And those feelings are very real.  There is a very real part of me that is absolutely full of love.  Before you get all worried and kick my ass, let me explain.

I know the difference, now.  This part of me that is grieving and heart broken and full of love… it feels all of those things for a person that doesn’t exist.  Intellectually, I know all of this.  The reality of who that man is – I’m not interested in.  She can have him.  If she already has him again, she can keep him.  I have zero interest.  Their crazy seems to be well matched.  I’m supposedly doing horrible things to her children, while she keeps them and herself in an environment with someone that is truly unstable and that, according to her, literally bashes her head against the wall repeatedly and covers her in bruises.  I mean, who the hell wants any part of that?  Not me.

What I know is that I have been completely in love with a fictional character – a role that has been played by someone who is truly repulsive in reality.  I have been reading books about lying and that kind of pathological behavior, and he is really ill – a true text book liar and sociopath.  That is the real person.  The person who even lies about wanting to be “better”, lying to the professionals he is depending on to help him.  I have zero interest in that person.  He disgusts me.

The person he pretended to be, though – I adored that person.  He made me laugh like nobody else.  Made me feel special and loved in ways that I didn’t think were possible.  He was kind and loving and good.  He wasn’t real.  I am real, though, and my half of things were always honest and true, and the emotions that I feel are very real.  However, no matter how much I miss him and long for him, no matter how much I ache and grieve for him, I know that he is not real – and that the real person is absolutely not someone that I want, he’s just a sad shell of a person who bears a striking resemblance to someone that owns my heart.

And that makes it easier.  I’ve seen enough of the real person that I can easily separate the two.  I have no desire to reach out to the real person.  He has someone that will suffer his lies and the abuses even more extensive than what I suffered through with him.  And they can have their sickness.  I didn’t bankrupt him.  I didn’t treat him like a meal ticket.  I didn’t make him miserable – the only misery he experienced with me were a result of his own ugliness and behavior.  I was the one that bought him presents and helped him out of binds, who loaned him the money for the legal council that she made sure he desperately needed, and that helped him buy things for his kids and gave them presents.  All I did was love and adore him, for as long as he could keep up the facade of being a better person than he is remotely capable of being in reality.  I was the only replenishing thing in his life, rather than being the total drain.  I know all of that, and so does he.

And so I don’t miss the reality.  Who the hell in their right mind would miss a person like that?  The only good thing that person has ever done for me has been to stay away, even though it was only after I made it clear that I wouldn’t allow him to keep playing his games anymore.  He still screws with me from time to time, but in ways that aren’t worth calling him on as they are easily covered with excuses.  I never said he wasn’t smart, that is the only thing in common with the person I love and the man behind the mask – the intelligence.  My eyes are wide open, so he’ll cling to the delusional until his dying breath.  I’m unbelievably grateful that it isn’t me.

So, I sit in this strange limbo – in love with a person that doesn’t exist, basically something akin to grieving the death of a loved one, and staying as far away from the real person and his influence as I possibly can.  I think being able to tell the difference between the two has been the key.  Allowing myself to feel how I feel, and to grieve and go through those emotions, without putting myself in any more harm.  The feelings I feel aren’t for that person, so the fact that HE is not dead matters not.

I feel better than I have in years, while my heart continues to spontaneously rip out of my chest at completely random moments.  Its a strange reality, but at least it IS reality.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

• Go on at least one downtown photowalk. 1-20-11  I almost gave up on this one.  I was (am) sick, I didn’t have much time, and the road construction on top of the one way streets in the area I wanted to visit made it all nearly impossible to get to.  After spending 15 minutes trying to get to where I wanted to go, I drove off.  ”Screw it, I’m just going to knitting.”  But at the very last moment before getting on the freeway I made a turn on another street, giving it one last shot.  I managed to hit one of the areas I was aiming for, and snapped some pictures.  I was only at it for about 10 or 15 minutes, but I did it!  I haven’t grabbed the photos yet, but I hope there are a couple of decent ones in there.
• Sing karaoke again. 1-22-11  I nearly gave up on this one as well.  I had myself all psyched up for this one!  Thursday was going to be the day.  On Tuesday, I became even more sick than the congestion I have been experiencing for the last month.  I could still sing, though.  I tested it – I recorded myself, I listened, I sounded fine.  Wednesday and Thursday were BAD.  I sounded like a pubescent boy/frog hybrid.  I was still going to go, though!  And then I received news that my usual karaoke crew were ill as well, and weren’t going to be going.  Dang it!  However… Saturday came around… and SURPRISE PARTY!  With karaoke!!!  So in the 11th hour, I did it!  I sounded like absolute shit, but boy did we have the best time ever, and it was my very last goal met!
• Dye my yarn. 1-21-11  On Friday, since I was sick, I decided to stay home from hockey and work on this goal.  I had planned on doing this on Wednesday, but my head hurt from being sick and so I put it off.  It was lots of fun, though.  I’m very much looking forward to my next batch!  Although I did manage to slightly felt superwash yarn, not sure how I did that. LOL
• Catch up on my backlog at work. 1-20-11  I have been working on this one for quite a while.  On Thursday, I finally got there.  And let me tell you, it feels REALLY good.  :)
• Go hiking. was successfully completed in conjunction with…
• Roadtrip to see something cool. 1-17-11  On Monday, with Wanda, Michelle, and Dante in tow, we drove a couple of hours to Valley of Fire state park.  I decided I wanted to see the petroglyphs, and a few of the other formations out there.  We had a bit of a rocky start – as soon as we pulled into the park I was pulled over and nearly given an almost $400 speeding ticket.  Very glad they give out verbal warnings, first.  Not a single one of us thought we were speeding, but trucks can often give the illusion of feeling slower than they are actually moving.  I think we were just excited.  We took TONS of photos, did a lot of laughing, saw many beautiful things, and had lots of fun with Dante.  I woke up sick the following morning, so I think all of the fresh air did me in.  :)  Being sick has reminded me that being an asshole is NOT a requirement of being sick nor does being sick excuse it.  I have been some level of not feeling well for a month now, and I have been perfectly happy and pleasant and kind (to all except the one that deserves none of that from me).  So being a horrible person while your sick just means that.. you’re a horrible person.  I truly appreciate the reminder of this.

I have a lot more to say on some of these, as well as tons of pictures to share.  I had a fantastic birthday, though – which deserves a post all on it’s own.  It was nice to not have my birthday ruined for the first time in years.  My friends and family pulled it all out, and it was a rockin’ good time.  I have spent so many of my own special times trying to worry about someone else, who actually didn’t give a shit.  I spent last year worrying about someone else’s 30th birthday, and was no doubt lied to about it entirely, and who couldn’t have given a shit about mine.   This year, though, was wonderful.  No ugliness, no misery… just a full on day of love and celebration and really good people.

There is one goal left on my list.  I left this one untouched on purpose.  Either move, or have this apartment perfectly set up. Honestly, I’m just not prepared to make that choice right now.  The thought of moving is truly unsettling to me.  I hate moving.  HATE. IT.  And I’ve done a lot of that in my late teens and 20s.  I am actually more settled into this apartment than I have ever been in any other.  There are things that I dislike about it, though.  Some really bad memories that I have no desire to be reminded of.  Huge areas of it feel entirely tainted and ugly to me.  I’m trying my best to undo that, though.

I know that moving won’t magically mean that I don’t remember, so just jumping ship here would be a rash and foolish decision.  I moved my living room around, and that is helping.  I’m making newer, better memories in there to bury the others.  I think I’m going to get some fresh bedding, and see if that helps.  I’m not ready to choose either way, though… so I left that goal untouched.  In fact, I’m going to remove it entirely.  It’s not really a goal anymore.  Settling in here is an ongoing process, and I’ll find the right path when I’m ready to.

• Make at least three new single friends. When I think about the difference in my life between this birthday and last, it is pronounced.  While I will beat myself up over having squandered this past year, I can feel the difference.  After being trapped in living a paralyzed life devoid of progress based on all of the lies, I still managed to develop a better life here without even realizing it.  The friendships I have cultivated have been… life-saving.  As far as “single friends”… I probably didn’t meet that goal.  I do have a number of wonderful friends that I didn’t have before, though.  Roxanne and Michelle are my new single friends, I met them both through knitting.  Wanda and Keena are two women that are both paired off (yet child free), but I am able to spend time with them predictably and regularly, and that was part of the whole point.  LeeAnn, Talana, Kyrie, Sidra – I see some arrangement of all of these ladies on a regular basis.  Recently, I’ve met a new group of people: Donna, Suze, Christina, Greg, and Laura.  I’m looking forward to knowing them all better.  And even further, I’ve barely met Janice and Kate and Ginger, and I really hope to figure out how to spend some more time with those ladies as well.  When I sit and think about it, things are happening around me – actually, I’m MAKING things happen – and I find it all very exciting.  No more letting life pass me by while waiting on empty words and broken promises.  I am thrilled by this progress, and I consider that goal more than met.
• Reorganize my birthday card supply and not forget to mail out a single one. I consider this goal met as well, although it won’t officially be “met” until my birthday.  I know that I was late a few times, but since I made this goal not a single birthday (or which I have been aware – if I missed you, let me know!) has gone unacknowledged.  That was the point.  I love my people so much, they at least deserve a card from me.  I plan on getting it ALL right this year.
• Attend at least one class at Home Depot. When I first posted this goal, my friend Dan commented that Home Depot doesn’t know what they’re talking about, and that if I wanted to learn something I would be welcome to ride along with him one day – he runs a very successful handyman business.  I took him up on that offer on 1/11/11.  We did lots of things – patched and textured walls, matched paint colors the right way, messed with garage door openers and shower heads, improved a sliding door, recaulked a tub, explored strange precipitates in the a/c system, etc.  I’ve done some of these things before, but at least now I know the RIGHT way to do them and walked away with a bunch of useful tips!  Was a lot of fun, and we laughed a WHOLE LOT during that day.  He once mentioned wanting to start a blog about being a handy man, and I really hope he does.  He has so many truly hilarious stories, and he interacts with some real characters every day.

By the end of this week, I’ll have met some more of these goals as well.  I’m almost out of time!

I’m linking up this week with my lovely friend Cate at Moments of Whimsy.  She’s hosting a Project 2011, and while what I’m doing here is a little bit different, I think it definitely relates.

My “Certain Little Legal Matter” is completely and totally dealt with, done, and dusted.  WOOHOO!!

Most of you probably know what this is about, and if not and you really want to know, just shoot me an email, hit me up wherever else you might know me, or ask me through comments and I’ll email you back!

A big part of my life has been resolved.  Another ugly layer shed.  More progress made.  I feel like ever step forward I fight for, another rope snaps that is attaching me to whatever is holding me back.  I’m closer to leaving all the bad things back there to eat my dust.  We joked last night that this was going to be the Year of Kellee – I can only hope that doesn’t turn into something like “The Summer of George.”  LOL

While I was clearly letting other things get to me day yesterday, and I shouldn’t have, it was a really nice day.  After taking care of that first thing in the morning, I had a lovely brunch with my mother, a relaxing day at home, my friend Keena took the day off to hang out with me and came to my knitting night with my main group of girls which was absolutely awesome.  I also finished a hat I started on Tuesday for a very dear friend of mine – the only knitting I’ve done so far this year.

I’m so excited!

It was mostly pathetic.  Whining about his pain and his fears and blah blah blah.  I am SO OVER hearing about his concern for himself.  Everything about his needs, his fears, how he hurts.  It’s nauseating at this point.  Bullshit about how he had “determination and effort”.  It’s so ridiculous, and SO NOT TRUE.  It’s all so pathetic that I don’t feel anything beyond fury.  Enough already.  QUIT FUCKING WITH ME AND PLAYING YOUR EVIL LITTLE GAMES.

He asked me “out of respect” to keep this between the two of us.  Funny, considering he has clearly never respected me for a single second, and I don’t have any respect left for him.  The closest he will get is my not posting his actual words here.  And I don’t trust it, or him, at all, and he’s out of his mind if he thinks I am going to protect him anymore or even offer the slightest possibility that he is lying to ANYONE.  My head is so far out of the sand now, it’s not going to happen, and that bad person is not going to pull the wool over my eyes ever again.

It started in November.  He contacted my best friend and asked if she thought there might be a way back for us.  I emailed him a few days later, told him I was too disgusted with him to consider that at the moment, but listed off a few things I knew for sure:  that I was done with Indiana (the place where he lives), done with long distance, done with being treated like crap and being abused, and done with his wife being any part of, influence on, or determining factor in my life.   That if he ever had any intention of being with me, that he needed to get his act together and go spend some time alone.

He would text me and say that he missed me, and I would respond with the fact that he was living with another woman and had no business saying those things, or anything, to me.  He told me he was looking for a place to live.  ”You’re living with another woman, it is disgusting, go away.”  I was cold and angry about 95% of the time, and he – of course – was oozing sweetness and love every moment.  He was writing blog posts about me, and sending me emails, etc.  He somehow managed to get me to stop, and then turn around.  Indeed, I fell for it again.  Not completely, but enough to be foolish, and enough to be hurt.  He was all of those wonderful things, of course, up until he moved.

And then returned the nasty man.  He moved on a Monday.  He moved in such a way that wasn’t what he had told me it would be, so I had very little to do with him.  We talked again on Wednesday, where he told me that it had been a misunderstanding and that he was doing what he had said.  He complained about a few things, I made a few concessions and threw him a bone or two.  Thursday was actually nice day – the one and only nice day.

Friday, shit hit the fan.  I got an email from his wife, and then another.  I won’t go into details, because I honestly don’t know what is true or what isn’t.  Needless to say, it was mostly unpleasant (not her, actually, just the experience), and every single drop of anything nice, kind, sweet, or decent about him – towards me – vanished in that moment.  He chastised and berated me for even bothering to read it, it took him several days to even get him to talk about any of it with me.  He was awful and hurtful and mean while doing so.  Textbook Jason – sweet and loving until he gets his claws into you, and then cold and distant and cruel when he actually has you again.  It’s really quite pathetic.  And he is SO good at it.  Such a master manipulator that you WANT to take the chance and believe him.

By that Friday night, he had destroyed all visible tethers to me.  Stopped following me on twitter, and deleted his one and only recent tweet to me.  Took down the blog he had been writing about us – selfdestructivetendencies.wordpress.com.  He was writing under the name of John O. Burnes, and using a fake name for me, under the guise of “protecting” us.  I’m Samantha by the way.  If anybody has access to my facebook stream, you’ll see a few people on there call me Sam or Sammy.  When I used to go to karaoke a lot, it was my karaoke alias – we all had one, and it was one of the first conversations Jason and I had when we found each other again.   I questioned him about writing under a false name – it seemed like hiding to me.  He said it was that he didn’t want a future employer to be able to pull it up and see at one point he had been entirely untrustworthy.  I still think he was hiding, creating deniability.  Who knows.  I honestly foresaw him taking that down, though – since he is such a huge fan of hiding and burying evidence, and had already begun to do so – so I had already printed, copied, and printed to pdf the entire thing.  It’s up there, on the upper right, if you’re curious – the tab marked SDT.  If you’re curious to see what on earth might have pulled me back.  It was just hope – hope that he was finally different.

So, he has been nasty, and ill on top of it, since I received the email from her.  For all of his talk about it being his turn to make things right, to treat me better, to guide things from here, etc – you have never met a man so entirely consumed with only himself.  Going from a place of making things up to me, to making demands of me, to being entirely and totally tit-for-tat.  So very sad.

Christmas was miserable – same old shit, same old shitty bad attitude.  I’m so sad that I let him ruin another holiday.  I’ve not had a good one in years.  The only marginally pleasant thing he had to say to me all day was his dream about covering my bedroom ceiling in mistletoe, and then saying that he had also had a mistletoe belt buckle.  The entire week, his only attempts to be nice or close to me were through sexual means like that.  Yeah sorry, not in the mood.

The following day (early Sunday) I received these texts:  (I took photos of these, since I am often accused of lying.  I’ll have to upload them later.  I can’t find my damn camera cable.)

They said, however, “Good morning, sweetheart.  I believe I shall be reading my book, and attempting to approach a mindful state of emotional purity, today.  Thinking time.  I hope you had a good holiday.”

I’ve not seen nor heard from him again.  Literally, not a peep in any way shape or form.  On Sunday, I had sent him an email talking about his behavior.  I expected it to go poorly, since he doesn’t like to be called to task about ANYTHING. EVER.  I asked him to just consider the things I was saying to him, try to view his behavior from my perspective, and to consider if that is what he wanted to be doing.  I didn’t understand being so overwhelming in his effort to get me again, when I was mostly uninterested, to just be the same old miserable person who doesn’t care when he has me.

I also told him that if he had an interest in going back to his wife, that I wouldn’t stop him.  To please go, if that is what he wanted.  That I was only here because he had begged me to be, and because he had plied me with promises of how things were going to be different.  If he wanted to be free of me, all he had to do was say the words and he was free.  Or that he could have just not pulled me back last time.  I didn’t expect this to go over well, but I’m done cowering from that.

An email I sent him about a week ago was literally just an email reminding him, literally in his own words, of the things he had said to me and promised me.  Literally snips of his blog posts and emails to me pasted directly from the source into a single email – all of the good things he had said, the things he had owned up to, the promises he had made, etc.  I was hoping it would serve as a reminder of what he had been wanting to do, of who he had wanted to be, and how he had strayed from that.  I wanted to remind him of all the good I had seen.  No, instead, I was “beating him with his past.”   Of course there couldn’t be any validity in what I was saying, or hell… in what he himself said.  Whatever.

And that was it.  I’ve never heard back from him.  Those last texts were the last of everything.  I’ve sent him a text a day since then through yesterday.  Yesterday afternoon, I finally emailed his wife, and basically said, “This is the last communication I had from him.  I just wanted to make sure he didn’t have a seizure in the bathtub or something, because who would know?  If he has crawled back to you, and you are together again, please just tell me.  I have no interest in disrupting you or coming between you.  I already told him I would let him go if that was what he wanted, that I HAD already let him go before he grabbed on again.  If that is the case, in fact, I would beg you to do what you can to keep him away from me.”  Her lack of answer leads me to believe that this is exactly what has happened.

Since that email, I tried calling his google number, just to know for sure if he was at least okay.  It rang as usual and then went to voicemail.  I tried calling his actual cell number, and I seem to have been blocked.  He’s either blocked all direct calls not from google, or just me.  I noticed when I got home last night that one of his profiles is now set to private.  So… I know that he is at least alive.  Which basically leaves it that he is an asshole.  That is what I get… not even the courtesy of the words “Goodbye.”  Not, “I made a mistake,” or “I changed my mind,” or… anything at all.   Just.. vanishing.  At least the message is finally clear.  Actions are always louder than words.

I knew when I gave him another second of my time, that whatever happened from there was on me.  That no matter what happened, I was giving him the chance to do it again.  So, TRULY this time, shame on me.  To a fault, I wanted to hope and I wanted to believe.  I deserve the fallout from that.

Here is the stuff that I sent him the other day, all of the words and promises that got my attention again – out there for all the world to see.  I know that everyone must be looking at me and wondering what I was thinking.  This is why I wanted to hope – all the words of understanding, owning his actions, patience, compassion, kindness, etc – all the things that subsequently disappeared and were replaced by self-righteous indignation, outrage, hostility, cruelty, distance, and coldness:

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

I own my reaction tonight.  I reacted poorly.. Not very strongly, I believed, but not the way someone that loved you would, and I’m sorry for that.

I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that I know you’re out here, watching.

*hug* It wasn’t real.  Close your eyes, and let it go. Write it down.  Send it here.  And let it go when you do.  Tell me its gone.  Tell me you deleted it.  I’ll watch your door for you.  I’ll watch over you.  But please, do this thing for me. I love you sweetheart.  I’m actually afk right now..  Please just close your eyes and know that I love you.  *hug*

Alright, baby.  I’ll troll around.  Good thing I dressed warm

So… here is where I stand on the few I will not likely complete.  I plan to just shift them over to my Before 31 goals.

Being debt free. I have made such enormous strides toward this goal this year, I am still proud of myself.  Over the last two months or so, I admit that I have totally lost site of this goal.  It has not been a priority.  For various reasons, being in the best possible financial position and a clean slate were important to me.  Much of that was about me, but a lot of that was for external reasons as well.  Between stress and shifting perspectives, pampering myself felt more important.

So the failure to achieve this goal is two fold. 1: I now have the worlds largest stash of yarn.  I am equal parts giddy and ashamed to admit that I’ve probably dropped about $1000 on yarn and fiber in the last month or so.  It has felt… great.  And 2: I’ve actually shifted tactics to start saving money more than paying debt.  My savings account was looking pretty grim, so I’ve been putting more effort into that.  By the time my birthday comes around, I will have saved almost enough money to have paid off my debt – the disparity between the two being approximately the amount of money that I blew on yarn and feeling good.  I’m… okay with this.  I know for B31 the debt will definitely be gone.

Lose 30 pounds & Buy a dress: I’m sure to most of you, the dress part seems like a strange goal.  I do not wear dresses, and I HATE shopping.  This goal, however, was dependent on the previous goal of losing 30 pounds – and that is simply not happening.  I’ve lost a few pounds, but nothing to write home about.

The major side effect of this effort, though, has been medical progress.  I’m on some various new meds, all of which should help make all of this not a total nightmare.  My doctor said the word “gastroparesis” to me the other day, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  As Jason pointed out the other day, that is statistically impossible.  Either way, though, I feel like I’m on the path to a fix now – FINALLY – and that is far more important than the weight.

I have less than a month left for the rest of them, so I’m hoping that I’ll be able to pull the rest of it off.  *Fingers crossed*

I feel as though I am stuck in a bad movie.  You know the kind of movie where someone is murdered, so nobody trusts anybody else, and by the end it is one big group of people all pointing a gun at another person because nobody knows what to believe?  Yeah… like that.

Who is the bad guy?  Who to believe?  How to figure it out before the paranoia eats you alive?  How to not gun down the innocent in the process?

I see the same old moods.  The same old behavior patterns.  The same old disinterest.  The same undeserved cruelty and attitude, all of which arise the moment any step is taken, in any direction.  The cruelest part is that I don’t trust my instincts anymore.  They have lead me awry as often as they have landed a bullseye, and everyone is suspect at this point.

Here is what I do know.  Pain and fear are met with hostility.  Concern for me, or anyone, is trumped with concern for self.  An entire day of pain is met only with ugliness and the concern of spending one day alone.  And no matter from which direction I look at it, pro or con, nothing ever adds up.

What the hell is wrong with everyone?  In that, I include myself.  We’re all toxic.  Stay away.

Three weeks ago, the 20th, could have been a very sad day for me.

That Saturday would have been my 3 year anniversary.

A day that would have likely meant something only to me, but that I always held close.

A representation of the day I was so sure that my life had changed course in an amazing way.

It was hard to read the things that were written for/to/about me around that day.

“I’m sorry, my angel.”

Never knowing what to believe.

I was doing okay.  No tears shed.  No overwhelming sadness.

I worried that this calm and fortitude would crumble at any moment.  It felt tenuous.  Fragile.

I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for it to sneak up and wash over me.

And then I received a text from Kristen.

“Hey, go check your front door.”

I did, and I found these smiling up at me.  My favorite colors – purple and orange.

And then I knew with certainty that I was okay.

I’m lucky to have wonderful friends.

They hold my hand and remind me that I am loved, no matter what.

They stay by my side as I wander down this uncertain path.

I have never really needed that before.  I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have it now.

I am a lucky girl.

There is still some confusion.  There is still some contact.  There are still promises being made, and blog posts of love and hope and mistakes made being written about me, along with some pleading.  There has been another phone call received.  I expected it to be hard, I expected it to be confusing.  It seems to be more than I had expected.  I am trying my best to keep my head on straight, and I’m doing a fairly decent job, but I do feel confused.  Whatever happens from here, it’s all on me.  I know that much.

And nothing is really happening right now, I just feel compelled to stay honest.  You’ve offered me your kindness and support, and that deserves disclosure in return.

I can say this much:  My eyes are open and I’ve drawn my lines, and from them I will not and have no budged.  That much I can say with 100% confidence and determination.

There are so many good days, though – most days are good, actually – and that is what I want to talk about.  Picking up where I left off.

Most of you have noticed my little Before 30 and Before 31 tabs up there at the top of the page.  Those are lists of things I want to do before I turn that particular age.  One of my goals is to drink 31 types of sweet wines before 31 – for which I am keeping a list.  My sweet friend Wanda decided that she liked this goal as well, and has partnered up with me in this endeavor.

On Friday the 19th, we had our first wine drinking endeavor.

We went to Cost Plus World Market (who has kindly set up a section labeled “sweet”) and picked up four bottles of wine, we went to the grocery store and picked up an embarrassing display of yummy noms, and we came back to my place for a delightful sleepover consisting of drinking, eating, knitting, and silly movies.

We kicked the evening off with what currently holds the place of my favorite wine ever: Michele Chiarlo’s Nivole – Moscato D’Asti.  I have had this many times before, and I wanted to make sure we started off on a high note.  This wine is deliciously sweet and I just love it – and just to warn you, that is about as technical a review as you’ll receive from me.  Because I can’t smell, my ability to taste is severely hindered and the subtleties of wine are totally lost on me, which is why I stick to sweet wines!  We both really loved this one, plus the label is pretty!

Our second bottle was selected purely for the fact that the name was total awesomesauce.  Wanda has this hilarious habit of adding “enheimer” to the ends of words – like she might say that she is “drunkenheimer” or “brokenheimer”.  It always makes me giggle, and it seemed the fates were on our side when she spotted a sweet red wine called Wise&Heimer.  It just had to be ours.  This one was still tasty, though not as sweet as the first.

Our third bottle was chosen because it was inexpensive, festive, and looked kind of fun – Electric Reindeer White Zinfandel.  It was crisper than the previous two wines, and was quite refreshing after two fairly sweet bottles.

And finally, our last bottle was Passman’s Frankfurter Apple Wine.  Neither of us really liked this one.  It was bitter and hard to drink.  Perhaps we were just worn out after 3 bottles of wine.

I honestly wish we had gone in the exact opposite order.  It seems like we went from the sweetest down, and it probably would have been better to go from the least sweet to the sweetest.  It was definitely fun, though.

We had a great time hanging out, trying out the wine, eating yummy food, and knitting away without making a single alcohol-induced mistake!  Yes, we drank all four bottles.  And somehow, I felt neither buzzed nor drunk for a single moment.  The beauty of sweet wine is that they have VERY LOW alcohol content.

This was the perfect way to kick off this project of ours, and I can’t wait until next time!

I recall Monday being difficult, and I don’t remember much about it.  I know that I concentrated on work as best as I could, and I spent a few hours in the evening with my mother.  She even modeled one of the Christmas presents for me that I had just finished knitting, which I will share in another post.  Honestly, that picture is the only reason I remember the day at all.  I remember spending the late evening lost in my reader for a little while, and felt much more peaceful afterwards.

Tuesday, however, was a wonderful day.  I decided to venture out and meet some new people, and went to a brand new knitting group with Keena, my awesome new knitting friend.   This meeting took place in an English pub that is basicaly located across the street from my apartment.  I met some interesting new people, and we had a $10 bottomless glass of wine.  That was fun.  While we were there, Kristen dropped in with a few sweet gifts to cheer me up, as well as an awesome book courtesy of JoVon for the times I need to lose myself in a distraction.  (Don’t I have the best friends ever?)

By the time Keena and I left there, I was definitely drunk.  We still had other plans, though.  We went out to meet some of Keena’s friends for all you can eat sushi.  After laughing our asses off, gorging ourselves on copious amounts of sushi, and several shots of very hot sake, we headed out again.  I spent most of the evening with complete strangers, something I’m not prone to do, and had a completely awesome time.

Wednesday afternoon, I spent a few minutes exploring a library in a different district that the one I usually use.  It’s closer to me, and I really like it.  It has a coffee shop!  The evening was spent the same as the week before.  I accompanied Kristen to watch her son during his karate class.  I can’t even convey how hilarious and adorable that is, those super excited four year olds trying so hard to listen but failing most of the time.  We headed back to Kristen’s house, ate junk food (I feel bad about all the crap, but I’m guessing by body is grateful for even bad calories these days), and watched the season finale of Weeds – that show, by the way, is CRAZY.

Thursday passed as it always does, spending the evening with my wonderful knitting group.  I just love those girls.  It never fails to be an evening full of laughter, distraction, and unabashed raunchiness!  I always leave them feeling refreshed and replenished.  I don’t know what I’d do without my Thursday dose of sanity!

Friday and the weekend were full of awesome, but those are posts for another day and will include some photos.  Soon!

Mostly, right now, I’m just grateful for my friends – near and far.  I don’t think I would feel as whole and calm and peaceful as I do without their care, support, and thoughtfulness.  Love you guys!

Not so much either of those things now.  But I admit my weakness, here, to you.  You deserve to know the truth about me – the one you willingly throw your support at.  I have my moments of weakness.

I received a phone call on Friday – if you can call it that.  Half a ring and a hang up.  Another yesterday, an actual call, ended with an “I love you” whispered at me.  My best friend has received texts, asking about hope and possibility for the future with me.  Posts about loving me and mistakes made.  All the things that poke at this broken heart of mine, that I want to hold on to for dear life.

It’s all very confusing, and I haven’t yet gotten the hang of looking away.  It swirls through my brain, shifting my focus, turning me upside down.  Making me hope, and making me afraid.  I know that I need to keep my eye on the ball.  I need to focus on how I want life to be, not how I have allowed it to be.  And I do, and I will.  But I stumble – I cry, I grow fearful, I become the roller coaster.  It’s hard, when the heart and mind are so conflicted.

I allow the storm to whip around me, and I keep moving.  I can’t control the future, I don’t know what or which people it might include, that is clearly out of my hands.  I have a vague sense of what I want it to look like, so I move towards that – as steadily as I can manage.  I can’t control what will or will now show up in there, I just have to do my part.  The rollercoaster will become less fierce.  Keep whatever hope I have, and I just have to be brave.  My own bravery is all I can depend on, the rest is just speculation for now.

I can’t allow another’s roller coaster to become my own, my hope planted and ripped to shreds from minute to minute.  I can’t have my fortitude and determination ripped apart by another’s lack of will.  I have my own fears to face.  They’ll catch up or they won’t.  It’s time for movement, and I am.  I’m the determined one, I’ll succeed.

He has always traveled a lot – sometimes for work and sometimes for “work”.  This most recent trip was for “work” – which basically means that he and a few of his customers and other men in the industry went down to Florida for a few days to drink and watch boat races.  To be fair, he actually did do some work over the weekend – which I know based on the 6:30 call I received Saturday morning asking me a question, but the trip was mostly “work”.

He came back on Sunday, and I saw him yesterday afternoon.  He was telling me about these things he had seen that he picked up for my mom and Madison – some sort of souvenir with their names on them.  The spelling of my name basically prohibits me from ever being included in things like that.  I’m okay with that, I love that there is meaning in the spelling of my name – I adore my grandfather, and his name is Lee, hence Kellee – and I’m used to being left out that way.

He then brings out a little package and says, “I brought something back for you, too.”  My jaw must have hit the floor.  In all the years, with all the traveling, I don’t think he has ever once brought something back for me – for any of us.  He opened it up and it was a shot glass.  The walking encyclopedia then spent a few minutes explaining to me the significance of what was on the glass, and why he chose it.

Such simple little things that he brought back for us, but I see it as a milestone – truly.   He took a moment during his trip to make a little gesture to show he was thinking of us while he was gone.  That is new for him, and I take it as a sign that he is indeed changing – when he can go off on his own, and everyone is easily “out of sight and out of mind,”  but… we weren’t.  He was sweet and thoughtful, and that is huge.  I can’t tell you how happy and hopeful that makes me.

If even my dad can be different, maybe anyone has a hope of changing.