Friday, September 25, 2009

Chili Coke Roast

I did it! I am so proud of myself. So proud in fact, I THINK IT CALLS FOR ME TO BEGIN SPEAKING IN CAPITAL LETTERS. So I may be gushing at my own excellence but this is one of the rare ocassions I have EVER been able to bask in the success of a meal I have cooked. I've always had dirty hot fantasies of me sweaty in the kitchen working hard to prepare a warm meal for my man, and this week I did it and did it without burning, drying out, over cooking, under cooking, not cooking, forgetting to heat, leaving it frozen in the middle, buying it from the store and then secretly transferring it to my own pots and pans. I made a roast that (from the mouth of Mark), "may be the best roast I've ever tasted". HA! Take that Ex-wife!! This "teenie bopper" just ran circles around your roast!

Mark loved the roast so much, he insisted we eat it for left over the next night when the kids were home...and guess what? THEY LOVED IT. YES! ONCE AGAIN, THIS IS SO EXCITING IT CALLS FOR ALL CAPS. So, because I am SO nice I'm going to share the goods. The recipe is below. I've always wanted to share a receipe. This is so domestic!!

Chili Coke Roast

1 Roast
1 Can of Coca Cola
1 pkg. Onion Soup Mix
2 Cups of BBQ Sauce

Just dump it in a Crock Pot and cook for 8 hrs. Yumm Yumm

Friday, September 18, 2009

The Wrap-Up

The week has been slow, rainy, dreary and relatively boring. I apologize to my readers that my life isn’t as depressing as it use to be, causing my blog posting to be mediocre and less than amusing to those who thrived on the pleasure they derived from my pain. Happiness isn’t as interesting as a depression. This is a reality I have found evident recently. It’s amazing how many “friends” have disappeared after Blair’s wedding. Honestly, were you just my friend out of curiosity? For gossip’s sake? Did you like me better when I was bitter with baggage? Now that I'm happy and content, is it not as juicy?

Anyways, I’m over it—just had to get it out there. I did, however find out some interesting facts about myself at a job-required training that I participated in on Tuesday….

As a recovering self-centered, egomaniacal, narcissist I found it easier to remove my kidney with a butter knife than point out my personal flaws in a situation…especially a relationship situation; particularly male/female relationship situations. I have been recovering nicely from this minor personality kink, and just a week ago believed that I was fully-recovered and my flaw was diminished. Mental note, usually when you think are healed/better/smarter/cuter/ than or from something/someone/situation, science will come, bite you in the butt and prove your happy theory wrong.

Apparently this week I found out I am one giant ego that expects and demands my personal rules be followed by all, thanks to the nice little training and test we recently implemented into our company. We have a pre-employment test that reads your thinking process; what scientist believes is the root to all personality characteristics. Well, according to the “fabulous and highly reliable” test, I have found out that I am plain and simple…a bossy bitch.

At the training class as the doctor that has created this test is reviewing MY RESULTS in front of the entire class, I sink down in my chair completely embarrassed. Finally I speak up and I’m all like ARE YOU SURE THIS IS RIGHT and he’s all like OH, QUITE SURE and I’m like WAIT, ARE YOU REALLY SURE BECAUSE I DON’T THINK YOU ARE SURE and he’s like I’M A DOCTOR and I’m like YOU’RE A DOCTOR OF NOTHING, YOU BIG NOSED DORK and he’s like AS THE TEST PROVES, YOU ARE A MANIAC HOE BAG and I’m all like I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS YOU FAKE DOCTOR and then we restled, my shirt was ripped off and Girls Gone Wild camera men were called. They filmed the whole thing and the fight will be featured on the "Office Girls Gone Wild" DVD that will arrive in an adult store near you, this fall. Okay, so maybe that didn’t happen...

Anyways, so the test really showed me a lot and opened my eyes to some serious relationship "No-No"s that I have been guilty of doing. What’s funny is I truly had no idea that I had been doing this UNTIL, I got the test and realized that’s exactly what I had been doing. Basically I have been expecting my partner to follow a regimen of rules and expectations that could truly never be met. Fortunately, now that I am aware of what I have the tendency to do, hopefully I will not do it, or continue to do it in the relationship I am in. I’ve loved three guys in my life—my high school sweetheart, my ex-husband and my Mark. I’m thinking the third times a charm, especially with my new found knowledge. Another, mental note—don’t make your boyfriend take the test and then lecture him about all the things HE is doing wrong in the relationship and what YOU think that HE should do about it. Yeah, that wasn’t very smart on my part….

I can’t think of anything else to tell you except, I accidentally called someone at work fat; I think I’m secretly being tape-recorded; my dog has now resorted to not only peeing on Mark but now pooping on him; I got to see my awesome girlfriends last night and had a blast chatting over pizza and wine; Mitch has his first football game of the season tomorrow;when I grow up I want to be a cake-baker; and I backed my car into a tree.

That was my week. HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

This one's dedicated to the Whales

Yesterday was a hard day. To begin with the hem went out in one leg of my pants and I walked around for a good two hours with the left pant leg to my Capri’s 4 inches longer than the other. What is it with the smiling happy people that surround you who claim to be your friends, yet fail to tell you when you have a giant tree branch stuck in your tooth, a booger hanging out of your nose, or I don’t know….one pant leg that’s longer than the other?? Did they get secret pleasure in the illusion of one of my limbs being significantly longer than the other? Thankfully, the sweet temp (yes temporary employee, who’s only known me for what, 5 minutes?!) informed me of my clothing malfunction and I was able to correct the hem with an entire roll of scotch tape before my big meeting.

Yes, I have been guilty of this travesty as well. I have sat across from a dear friend with the biggest piece of pepper smack dab in the middle of her two front teeth that made her look like a snagle-toothed hillbilly, yet I failed to say anything to her, allowing her to be victim to awkward looks from the super cute waiter that quickly decided to focus his attention all on me (what?! Purely coincidence people!). I’m sure if she would have known she would have stabbed me with her dessert fork, but instead I allowed her to get in her car after we embraced and probably find it herself in the console mirror moments later, giving me the one finger wave out her window.

And this only started my crappy day. Confidantes, no day is a good day when you have to conversate with your ex and yesterday happened to be one of those days. It’s not hate that makes it a horrible event, its memories. It’s a reminder that the person you once called your spouse, doesn’t know you anymore, doesn’t want to know you anymore and doesn’t care about your current struggles because “the bitch had it coming”. There are ramifications to being divorced, one of those being every 3-4 months (especially in the first few years) something rises to the surface that requires communication between the two former mates. That happened yesterday, no need to bore you with what it was regarding, the point is I had to communicate with the ex and for me at least, it’s an emotional thing…still. And before you go there, yes I am over him. Yes, I know he’s married and no I don’t want him back…trust me.

No emotion was in the brief exchange, but there was a one liner that brought up feeling in me. Remember, I haven’t spoken to him in months, when he said his vows I knew it was no longer my place. These three words at the end of our final email exchange may not mean anything to you but they did to me – Best of Luck. Best of Luck? I could feel the blood drain from my face as I re-read the simple words over and over again. Sure, I’m not expecting (nor wanting) a “I love you and always will” sign off, but “Best of Luck”?? How impersonal, final and eerie is seeing that from a person, once upon a time you promised forever with.

I have fully accepted the fact that I’m divorced and have come so far in the past year. I am in love with an amazing man that I hope to have a long and happy life (until he is so old, I have to stick him in a nursing home—KIDDING) with. But, I’m obligated to you (my faithful readers) to tell you when I hit a little speed bump and yesterday was definitely a speed bump. And, no this was no the end to my bad day….read on, oh faithful ones….

So Mark and I both had to deal with our exes yesterday (that’s a completely other story that I would love, love LOVE to tell you, but I have to get permission from Marky-poo first. He tends to think my stories can be just a bit melodramatic, silly mark). Anyways, we decided to go work off some steam and had a great workout.

“You pick the place, babe”, I say-after all it is your wallet we will be using. He pulls up probably to the worse place he could have picked on a day like the day I had yesterday. Stucking it up, I went in had a club sandwich and thought about the last time I was in this chain restaurant. I think about how cold and bitter I was over a year and a half ago as I sat across from the man who had hours before told me “Best of Luck”. The man who I informed I had filed for divorce as he sat grief stricken across from me and my potato soup back then. I hadn’t returned to this place, until yesterday. I could sense the tears swelling behind my eyes but I managed to keep them in check, until my lovely boyfriend told a story that catapulted me to a bloody mess of tears and snot.

I had gone home to visit the family and missed church at Bent Tree on Sunday. Mark told me of the message Pete delivered, as I threw any benefit to the exercise I had just completed, munching on the crispy bacon on my sandwich. Basically, he told me that the message was on trusting God. How we fail to trust God because we really don’t believe/trust that God loves us just as we are. Well, that did me in.

As the tears began to fall, I knew that message was exactly how I felt. I use to say I was mad at God, as a cop-out, when really I was so ashamed of who I was. The problem with God is you can’t hide anything from him. He doesn’t know me from the blog I write, from the story I have rehearsed of my divorce-he knows EVERYTHING. It’s a pretty frightening thing, especially when your everything is pretty ugly. I too often, lie in bed and think there is no way God could love such an ugly heart. It’s a battle I fight daily. Knowing God’s word, but failing to believe it for my life. I didn’t trust God to heal my marriage, so I took my own path, doing what I thought was the right thing because deep down, I didn’t believe God really loved me. You can get use to feeling numb. It all came tumbling down. All the hurt, the hurt I have caused, the nothingness I felt and the relationship with God I am so desperate to recover. In the daily routine, it so easy to push it all away and deal with jobs, dinner and TV. You can forget it for moments but they will come back.

I understand one day, this will all be a distant memory. Something I look back on and have trouble remember what I felt, how I felt and the decisions I made that forever affected my life and the lives of others. There will come a day, where I will no longer hold on to the guilt that still faintly haunts me in my moments of weakness. But, yesterday was not that day. Yesterday was a day that I hurt again. A day my sins showed up to bite me in the arse and remind me of my failure to trust in God. It wasn’t the loss of B that made me mourn yesterday, it was the loss of the hope I walked down the aisle and made a commitment to trust in at an early age. Sometimes I think the divorce has been harder due to the fact I am a Christ follower. It gives you a shame and guilt that I don’t think other’s have to experience. That has been the worst part. Yes, it was horrible that I let my spouse down, but what is so much worse is I let God down. That’s the thing I have trouble handling. Grasping- understanding how to get over.

I do know that God has his hand over me; I can see it with the immeasurable blessings he has given me. In my relationships, the mending of my heart and his unfettering love that I can amazingly still feel despite my disappointment to him. My faith will continue to grow and I will see the big picture in God’s plan for my life. I will understand his love is unchanging and I will believe for myself. I can already see it now.

And on top of it all, I watched this show on animal planet last night about whalers and I watched in shear horror a whale die. It was so disgusting; I secretly wished bodily harm to the Japanese who were malicious in their hunt. I would have liked to kicked them in the head with my cowboy boot and said “This is for Pearl Harbor and for the Whales, you commi bastards!”.

Okay, that’s enough for now….until next time.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader?

The fastest way to learn things you should know but dont is to prepare your boyfriend's 5th grade daughter for her geography test. Although I act like I know the answers, I'm really learning along with her. For instance, did you know that the capital of Pennsylvania is Harrisburg? Ironcially, as I type this, the 5th grader is telling me how to spell both Pennsylvania and Harrisburg. I thought Pennsylvania was a train station in New York and that Harrisburg was a department store. What will I do when it comes to algebra, geometry or personal hygiene - subjects I know absolutely nothing about? Now I know why being a single parent is so hard: because you can't answer your child, "go ask your dad/mother" when you don't know the answer.

So, I may not be able to help her with the capital of Vermont, but I sure as heck can catch her up on the Jon&Kate plus 8 gossip. Besides, we all know that nerds don't go far in life. Whatever happened to that Screech guy anyway???