What do you do....

...when someone you care about is going through a stressful time in their lives?

You send them the most hilariously bad gag gift you can find.

He'll either love me, or kill me...

Overthinking, and being your own worst critic.

From the first time I set foot in that basement, I turned on the normal Jamie Charm.

They had no idea until yesterday, almost a month later, how dang scared I was.

So, I'm singing in a band now.  It's all sorts of rad, and I love it, but every time I go to start a new song, I shake like a leaf in gale force winds.  Which is funny, considering the bass player was willing to take me on solely due to, and I quote, "an awesome will to try and an outgoing attitude".

I assumed they could see through my front, but apparently, in talking, they couldn't.  They know now, and aren't judging me for it, but it made me chuckle.  How I was sure my fear was written on my face, but they had no clue.  We are our own worst critics, and that sucks.

On the same strand, we over think things too much.  I'm pretty sure my over thinking has caused irreparable damage to a relationship I hoped to keep very much alive.  Or, am I just over thinking that too?

I need to find a way to turn off my brain sometimes...

Really?

I really cannot believe that me saying I'm frustrated and wanting to see someone warrants me being yelled at that I'm "overboard".

Most people would appreciate that someone wants to see them.

I can cave and admit I'm wrong on occasion, and lord knows I whine about it more than I should, but I refuse to back down when all I ever said was that I wanted to see you.

I don't think that's too much to ask.

Interesting....

So I guess...

I'm the singer in a band.

This ought to be interesting...

Gah.

Why do I think it's worth it?  When I work, he sleeps.  When I'm off, he works.  When he's off, I sleep.  I get once in a while, random stories or thoughts with which to learn who he really is.

I want more.  I get frustrated and sad when I don't see him, hear his voice, smell him.  I feel like it's one sided, I wonder if I'm making a mistake, if I'm wasting my time.  I worry that when I get a little sappy, he's going to get annoyed, for the simple fact that he's not like that, and doesn't return those words.

On our first date I met his dad.  I got jelly beans I'd been talking about for weeks snatched from my hand and bought for me on our first date (at Walmart)  :P  I got "See?!  She's fucking perfect for me!" yelled in front of his friends, also on our first date, playing darts with his friends, because I used "keeping my spirits up!" as a reason why a silly keychain I carry would be useful during the zombie apocalypse.  I get repeated claims of, "I'm sorry... I'm talking a lot... I don't talk to anyone like this...  feel special"  :P  I post on Facebook that same night that I do feel special, and he says, "With reason."

On our second date, I got compliments on how I looked.  I watched as he said I love you as he left to his dad, and how his dad said something else to him, they conversed again for a few moments, and he said I love you again.  As though it HAD to be the last thing he said before he left.  It was heart melting.  I got laughs and fun at the movies.  Met his mom.  And tons more talking.  I can listen to him talk for hours.  It's soothing, but makes me laugh, and incredibly sexy, all at the same time.  He apologizes for talking a lot for like the 9th time, and something in me snaps.  I dive across the car to cling to him for a second, kiss the side of his head, and say, "Stop apologizing.  I like listening to you."  And when I leave, I stop, turn around and go back to him to kiss him.  Because the silly boy didn't kiss me.  :P

Our third date, he took me to meet an old college friend.  Lots of talking on the ride, lots of laughs with his friend, lots of me sitting quietly marveling at how many times, in such a short amount of time, he's shared his life with me.

Our 4th date was to see one of my favorite bands, and with my friends.  He never once let their jesting get to him.  He cracked up with me as they mooned us from the other car, he took the questioning from my guy friends like a champ, and by the end, it was like one big group of people, he didn't seem like an outsider at all.

I've only gotten to see him 4 times in the last 10 weeks.  I get frustrated, I get angry at the world, at life, for keeping us apart.  I forget what it's like being with him.

But in between I get silly stories.  I get asked how my days are.  I get told, "I'm happy that you EXIST, let alone that you dig me!"  I get little bits of thoughts from a man who is just happy that I'm here.

I need to find a way to be content with what I get.  Because this man is wonderful.  Rolls with the punches, gets right back up and figures out another way to take care of the important things.  Takes care of his family and values that above all else.  Life is throwing BOTH of us curveballs and reasons why we can't see each other.  Distance is the biggest factor.  Distance?  I'm mad about distance?  he could be 500 miles away, not 50.  Why am I complaining?

I am falling for a man who will probably rarely bring me flowers, or tell me he misses me, or say stupid sappy shit.  But in the end... I EXIST and that makes him happy?  I'd rather be allowed the chance to make him happy by being there, but I need to remember that at a base level, he is content that I am me, and that I am here.

I know once a while ago I sent him the link to this blog, and lord knows if he reads it.  So if you do, babe, I'm sorry that I freak out and whine about not seeing you.  I just happen to find you so fascinating and enjoyable to be around, it causes me to act like a two year old.  When there are so many people who have it so much worse.  Longer distances, military spouses, or worse, as you said to me, "Most people go their whole lives without meetin someone that really gets em."  I'm going to really try to savor what I do get and not complain about it.

And if you don't, then someday I'll make you read this, and hopefully it'll be while together, laughing about how epic the distance once seemed.

22 days....

At one week, I am wistful.

At two weeks, I am sad.

At three weeks, I realize that I can barely remember your voice, and that's when I really start to lose hope, panic, and want to run.

I don't really want to run from YOU, but I want to run from how horribly vulnerable that makes me feel, how horrible it feels to long for something so damn bad.

The simple fix would be a phone call.  But even that's so hard to coordinate, that has to be planned to.  I work when you sleep.  You work when I could call.  I sleep when you're available.

And then there's the whole part where I have to admit that this is what I miss, this is what makes me crazy, and wonder if admitting that will weird you out.

So instead... I just sit and suffer.  Blah.

Frustrated....

So, I have an issue.  In the form of a person.  With a penis.

I like this stupid boy.  So much so that, while there's been no commitment talk, I'm still mentally committed.  So much so, that I think of nothing else.  It's bad.  Like, REAL BAD.

Here's the problem... he's just... patient.  And calm.  I am not.  There are a ton of factors going on here that are killing what little chance we have to make anything of this.  And it sucks.  Because while I think about it constantly, it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

Don't get me wrong, he isn't a jerk by any means, just... never mentions it.  Maybe it's just a guy thing.  Maybe I'm more of a girl lately than I realize.  All I know is, I really don't know how to deal with it.  When it gets to a point where we're going 4 weeks without seeing each other, and his response is, "We'll figure it out, babe", well... how?  And when?  Do you not give a shit that I'm bothered?  How are you so damn sure of this?

Is it too much to ask that if a guy is interested and thinks we are compatible, to EXPRESS IT?

Double standards?

So, I'm single.  The hubby and I parted ways in June of last year, and made it official in February of this year.  And I learned something very interesting along the way....

...There is still an EXTREME double standard about men having casual sex, vs women being slutty.  (Term used purposefully.)

As a twice divorced woman, who is picky, emotionally unstable when it comes to relationships, and in general just not a fan of being tied down, it's surprising how many people frown upon, well.... entertaining your urges. Shall we say.

As long as you're safe, use your head about it, I say... why not?  I know some people don't agree with that theory though.

Seems to be ok for men to do it, though.

I'm actually not getting laid at all and have my eyes firmly fixed on one prize (he knows who he is) but until a few months ago, I was just looking to enjoy life, not be judged.  Who is anyone to tell another person hat they do is inappropriate?  Would it have been better for me to SAY "Yeah, be my boyfriend!", get laid, and then dump them?  I guess I don't understand the horrible stigma attached with being an adult making my own choices....

...but I also know a lot of idiots have fucked it up for the rest of us.

I suppose I should explain myself....

Hi, I'm Jamie, and welcome to my blog.

Some of you knew that by now, but a brief synopsis of why I'm here is in order, I believe.

My original blog, http://babyoliverblog.blogspot.com was started February 15th of 2009, to chronicle my first pregnancy.  Unfortunately, on March 19th, 2009, we lost our precious baby girl to a very rare, very hard to comprehend syndrome.  It was a fluke, and there was nothing we could do to stop that.

Over the last 3 years, I've received numerous emails about how finding that blog, and that honest, brutal, no holds barred look at my experience, helped others cope with their own loss.  I am blessed in multiple ways to have been given such a huge compliment.  I never intended my blog to be anything other than something I could refer back to later in life, for memories' sake.  Knowing that someone was able to find some sort of comfort in my words is, without a doubt, an amazing honor.

That being said, I fell off the blogging bandwagon for a while because I didn't feel I had anything to say.  The truth is, I do.  Because there's a ton of other things in life that are sugar coated and not discussed, and if I brought light to one, why not do it with others?

So this will be moving into a no hold barred look at my life.  Perhaps some of it will apply to you.  Perhaps not.  But I hope I can manage to bring a little bit of that peace of mind to more people with this new blog.  I've moved because I no longer can stand the site of the babyoliverblog address.  I'm still the same old me, though.

    

Well played sir, well played indeed.

I find it funny that the only time I seemed to stick to blogging was back when horrible, awful things were happening to me.  As though in order to be interesting, I had to have some epic story.

Anyways...  I've picked up a second job DJing karaoke for a local bar on Friday nights, and I start tonight.  This ought to be interesting... the chick who sticks to a deadpan voice, and hates people, trying to be upbeat and chipper, keep a drunk crowd happy and entertained....  I'm thinking lighting myself on fire might be a backup plan for when they get out of control.  Thoughts?

An interesting thought....

Thought provoking conversation about politics and world affairs this morning with a few coworkers.  Funny, they all said, wow, Jamie, I wouldn't have taken you for a politically opinionated person.

I'm not.  In fact, I know next to nothing about any of the candidates.  I refuse to discuss it mostly because I don't want to appear uneducated.

Then again, this is the same group who, 5 minutes later, was having their own little sing along of "Jerry Was a Racecar Driver" by Primus, so I really doubt they would have called me out on the holes in my knowledge of Mitt Romney.

So here we are again....

Seems like I do this a lot....  skip out on posting.  I sometimes feel like I have nothing to say that anyone would want to hear.  Sad, isn't it?  That we can let ourselves get to a point where we feel our words are insignificant.

I stepped up today and said no more.  I expressed my concerns to someone I didn't think was seeing exactly what he was doing to me.

Of course, that blew up in my face when he seemed to not care at all.

Dating, it seems, is a bad choice for me.  11 months to the day since I asked Will to leave and where am I?  No better off.  No worse off, that's for sure, but... when is it my turn?