This Is Where It Ends

No, I’m not talking about my relationship. I’m talking about Barenaked Ladies. I’m talking about the singer from whose song I stole the title of my blog. I’m talking about Mr. Steven Page.

See, Steve has left BNL. For the majority of the people (all 7 of you?) reading this blog, that statement means nothing. To me, it means everything. It’s Paul leaving the Beatles. It’s the Bulls without Michael Jordan. It’s nachos without all the gooey cheese.

Steve wasn’t the whole band. There are 4 other very fine, very talented, very cool individuals in the group who will carry the BNL banner. But Steve was a Voice. Not THE voice, as Ed did his fair share of vocals. But Steve was a unique part of the band’s sound. As much as I love Tyler, they could replace the drummer and the songs wouldn’t sound terribly different. Same with keyboards and bass. But when a vocalist leaves, the entire sound changes. Not only the songs Steve sang lead on, but also the harmony he provided on Ed’s. Even Paul McCartney commented that he and John Lennon couldn’t match the harmonies of Ed and Steve.

This is a band that I’ve built vacations around, have traveled to see, and represent a part of my life that while filled with turmoil, was also filled with hope. I found them at a time when I was going through a divorce, living on my own for the first time, and wondering what the hell I was going to do. They made me smile when I thought I couldn’t. Somehow, through their music and their onstage cohesiveness, they made me feel part of a family. I wasn’t worshipping rock stars from afar. I was a part of a welcoming community, just when I needed it most.

Of course there has been talk on the message boards about the whole situation and speculation as to when talk of the separation started. Of course, it’s logical that it started way before the cruise, and someone likened it to waiting until after Christmas to tell the kids you’re getting divorced. Which struck me, because that’s exactly what happened to me when my parents divorced. They told me the day after Christmas so they wouldn’t “ruin” it. And now the band told me a couple weeks after the cruise. I’m happy they waited. While knowing would have made everything more poignant, it also would have made everything much, much sadder. When we got back, a bunch of us threw out theories about what we thought was “off” with the band and why. We just didn’t expect to get confirmation so quickly. Yeah, Mom and Dad were fighting, but we hoped not to get that day after Christmas talk.

I wish Steve the best, I really do. I hope he gets everything he wants. And I hope Ed, Tyler, Jim and Kevin get what they want. But the thought of a new lead singer hurts right now. I’m not ready to see “Mom” with a new boyfriend.

Relationship Update

OK, I know the last time I wrote about my relationship (over a month ago), it sounded pretty grim. It was right after a rough time and I was feeling pretty hopeless. But that’s why we’re in counseling. It’s ups and downs and roundabouts. And counseling is supposed to help us smooth out all the twists and turns into even road. And that’s happening. Slowly.

I love The Boy. I know that doesn’t always come across, but I do. That’s why I hang in. That’s why I agreed to do counseling. As frustrated as I may get, I don’t want him to be out of my life. So I’m learning how to have him in my life without the anger and the fights and the drama.

It’s not a linear path. We go to the counselor, she gives what I think are good suggestions, and I find myself trying to implement them without consciously thinking about it. However, it’s hard to break a pattern. Sometimes I find myself reacting differently (more constructively) to The Boy, and he reacts as if I were perpetuating the old pattern. So the reinforcement I get is that he doesn’t want the dynamic to change. Then I explain to him that I’m trying to break old habits, and he eventually “gets” it. And then it’ll happen again about something else and I wonder why he isn’t trying to change the dynamic as much as I am. Then I get frustrated and sad, and I blog. Then we talk about counseling and implementing change. So, while we’re not in exactly the same pattern we’ve been in for 4 years, we’re not exactly the ideal couple, either.

There have been positive changes. I feel like we can now talk to each other without being on the defensive all the time. We try to see our actions through our counselor’s eyes, and to anticipate what she’d say about the situation. It’s helping. But it’s a process, as they say.

Our cruise was wonderful. We only had one “discussion”, and I’m happy to say it wasn’t a fight and it didn’t last for days, as has been known to happen. We resolved it fairly quickly, and went on to have a lovely time together.

I know The Boy loves me and wants this to work. And I’m happy to say we’re starting to have more good times than bad, which is a major change. There are still things we’re dealing with that are out of our control (his work situation), but we’re making progress.

Slow and steady wins the race (or at least avoids the breakup, hopefully).

Random Mom Memory

This just came into my head as I was sitting here at work...

When my mom lived with us in Phoenix, I went through a period of really trying (and succeeding, to some point) to lose weight. This wasn't easy, considering I was working 2 jobs for a total of about 100 hours a week. One of those jobs was at Baskin-Robbins in the evenings after my day job.

The store was about a mile from our house, and my mom used to cook up some stir-fry and walk it down to my store with our 2 dogs. She'd deliver me my healthy dinner, and I'd give the dogs some soft-serve ice cream outside (the vet said it was OK).

I'm sitting here crying as I remember that. She was so supportive about me losing weight (she always worried about my health). She took time to do that 4 nights a week, even though she was tired from working all day herself. She was so loving and generous, even though she tried to hide it from the world.

In her honor (and for my own good), I'm going to get back on the program. I'll get healthy by hook or by crook.

(And yes, I know I need to update about The Boy status. It's all good - I just haven't been in the mood/haven't had much time to blog lately. Will rectify that situation).

Giving Up the Dream

Sometimes I get so utterly frustrated in my romantic relationships (especially my current one) that the tangled mess of my psyche makes me wonder if I even know my own name anymore. I start out being so clear in my position, about how I feel - then I analyze and bend so far over backward trying to see the other person's side that I start doubting what I knew to be true in the beginning.

I know I can be easily emotionally manipulated. It's happened far too many times in the past. To guard against this, I believe the worst of my partner first until he proves otherwise. And I put up one hell of a fight. You'd be surprised how easily the highly trained ear can pick out insincerity. Ah, but is it REALLY manipulation, or am I imagining it? This one thought goes around and around in my head until I can't believe anything or anyone anymore - not even myself.

I want to be a good person. But how can I be when there are so many bad people out there trying to get me? Trust is a luxury I don't have. Guilty until proven innocent - and don't think THAT won't take a lot of time and trouble.

I am seriously starting to think that maybe I'm meant to be alone. That I just can't make myself mesh that closely with another person. Yeah, I know I have all these dreams about being a wife and a mother. But what if I picked the wrong dreams for the person I truly am? I mean, a short person may want to play pro basketball more than anything in the world, and practice all the time to attain that goal - but chances are it's not going to happen. He just inherently is a bad fit for his chosen dream. A happy family is a lovely dream, but what if I'm not cut out for it?

Should I just throw in the towel and accept that I should spend my life alone? Wait for my nephews to have kids and just dote on them instead of my own? What if my dreams don't match my capabilities? How do you just give up on something you thought you wanted your whole life?

The ME in ChristmastiME

I love Christmas. It gives me a reason (sales!) to shop for myself while complaining that I have no money to buy gifts for anyone else. I think one day my loved ones may catch on....

Grocery Receipt Assumptions

OK, you know those coupons that automatically spit out at your grocery store register? The kind where the machine says, "hmm, you bought Yoplait yogurt. Take this coupon for 25 cents off Dannon." Makes sense - I (or someone in my household) obviously eats yogurt. So the good folks at Dannon figure that I'll try their brand given enough monetary incentive. Same product, different brand. Not too much of a stretch there.

However, I had a different experience at Vons last night. Below is a list of my purchases:

Crystal Light Lemonade Mix
Cheddar Cheese
Colby Jack
Brie Wedge (yes, I see the pattern - I like my cheese and I have to feed my co-worker as well)
Little Debbie Gingerbread Cookies
Little Debbie Chocolate Tree Cakes
Turkey and Cheddar Lunchables
Garden Salad Mix
Arrowhead Water

That's it - that's all I bought. As a result, the friendly coupon machine spit out two offers:

1. Save $5.00 on a Fred Clause DVD (OK, that seems like a pretty generic coupon - probably give it to all demographics - saturate the market and all that).

2. $3.00 off ENFAMIL BABY FORMULA.

OK, this is what completely throws me. What on my list of purchases pegs me as a new mother? Or a caregiver of children? Granted, the Lunchables and the Little Debbies probably smack of packing school lunches, but those are really for me because I'm lazy and like junk food. Going with the kid assumption, why wouldn't I get a coupon for some sugary cereal or fruit roll-up thingy? But INFANT formula? That's a pretty narrow market.

I know - it's the brie. Because all new moms spend $9.00 on a wedge of cheese. Or perhaps it's the Crystal Light, because all new moms are trying to watch their calories.

I swear, next time I'm going to buy milk and wind up with a coupon for anti-fungal cream.

Mom Story #1

Now that we're far enough removed from October, I've been thinking about old Mom stories. She was the stoic Midwestern type - did what needed to be done without complaint, never played before she worked, and uttered few words. She wasn't what you'd call a pleasure seeker. She just felt that she was put on this earth to do what needed to be done - no more, no less.

Imagine my surprise when my sister-in-law Julie related a Mom story to me. Involving men. And stripping. And nearly being forcibly evicted from a club.

My mother loved Vegas. She didn't just love Vegas - she loved Vegas. And being a stay at home mom at the time herself, Julie was more than happy to accompany my mother so she could get her fix of nickel slots (yes, that's all Mom played - she'd drive 4+ hours to play nickel slots and it was the grandest excursion she could think of).

Apparently, they got the idea (after lots of alcohol, no doubt) to go to a male strip club. Won't that be fun! (tee hee, tee hee)

This is where the story gets good. Seems that Mom imbibed a bit too much of her beloved 7 and 7's, and really got into the show. By "really got into", I mean that she grabbed a dancer's ass. My mother. Grabbed some 20-something, probably gay (not that there's anything wrong with that) dude's ass. My mother who spent every Saturday morning cleaning our house until it smelled of bleach. My mother who dutifully cooked my father a full meat and potatoes dinner every night so he could fall asleep in front of the TV and completely ignore her. My mother whose idea of a splurge was to buy me a frozen dinner on the rare night that she didn't cook (usually because Dad was out drinking). My mother grabbed a guy's ass. His naked ass. In a club.

Well, security wasn't all too happy about that. They rushed over, ready to evict my troublemaking mother. Luckily, the dancer thought it was funny and waved them off. Mom stayed, slightly better behaved. And my sister-in-law was mortified (bonus!)

Moms (especially my mom) aren't supposed to be women. They're just supposed to be moms. Information to the contrary just throws off the universe's equilibrium. But it IS pretty damn funny. You go, Mom!