On cowards

How can one use the phrase, "not the forever kind of love" and then go back?

I understand not wanting to hurt someone...and I understand hurting when someone you love is hurting...but if you can consciously say that you love them, but it's "not the forever kind of love", and not break things off, you are hurting someone...even if it's just you.

Don't get me wrong. I would rather hurt myself than be responsible for hurting someone else, but that's being a coward...and there are definitely times in my life when I've been the coward. As much as I would like to say otherwise, I will likely be a coward again.

It's almost always easier said than done. I can admit that too.

I dunno...I'm one of those girls that tends to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders...and I feel an insane amount of pain for the people I care about. Sometimes, I wish I could grab them by the shoulders and shake them until they get it...but that's not the way it works.

Life is too short to be a coward...and definitely too short to be unhappy.

Just live.

I almost fell...but instead...I was the coward 

and said the things I knew would stop me...

doesn't make me care any less.

"Random" Observation

This post serves no real purpose other than to get this out of my head...and direct your attention to an interesting blog.

Yesterday...or the day before...I came to the realization that friends with benefits only really works if you become friends after the benefits. If you are friends before...it gets all fucked up. At least, this has been my experience...and it's a shame that it took me more than once to figure that out.

This morning, I read an entry from the Naughty Mom on being "Just Friends". It kind of hit home...and I wanted to share it.

That's all, cupcakes.

Letters are easier

...

I've been writting letters a lot lately. They are quicker, to the point (and usually the cowards way out...).  I can write, in letters, what I don't have to balls to say to someone's face...and most of the time I know they read them. I'm usually quite passive agressive in my letters...of course, as we all know, I'm the queen of passive agressive. *insert eyeroll here*

I generally have no problem being inappropriate, either. It's my shit...if it bothers you, don't read it. It's that simple. However...some people choose to read and be offended, or get pissy...or hate me (rightfully so, in some cases)...and they continue to read it. Come on! Get a grip! Ignorance is bliss...or some shit like that.

This time, however, I can't bring myself to write the letters I want to write. I want to say something that puts everything into perspective, and makes all the answers clear and obvious...but I realize, from experience, that you can only help those that want to be helped. Until they make up their minds to do what needs to be done, for themselves and their well-being, they aren't going to do it. It is what it is, and that's all it is.

I still find myself a little heartbroken for you, though. I know how you feel. Some people have no problems being the asshole. Some people just can't do it and, instead, continue to be miserable...even though it's slowly killing them.

Sometimes, I think distance is the best thing. Distance and time...usually they will straighten a skewed perspective. If someone asks for space, and you love them as you say you do, the least you can do is give it to them. It's instinct, perhaps from childhood, that when we think something is going to be taken away from us, we cling to it even harder...never stopping to think of what the consequence might be.

It saddens me when I notice the difference in behavior...depending who is or is not around. I wonder if anyone ever saw that change in me. I was conscious of it, but I wonder how well I put on around others... Apparently, pretty good, judging by the shock on people's faces when they find out.

I dunno...today is a weird day, and I'm in a weird place...

This is why you shouldn't kiss me like that...

Cupcakes would probably make me feel better.

Awkwarrrddddd...

Today, when I went to pick up my lunch, I saw the pastor that married my ex and I. I've been trying to avoid him since I left because I didn't want to disappoint him...I dunno.

At this point, we have been separated for a few months shy of a year, and completely divorced since January. Chris even has a new girlfriend that he takes around town.

So...we kind of both assumed that by now, the pastor would know about us. If for no other reason than that this is a small town and people love to talk.

Him: Hey, girl!
Me: Hey, Mr. Larry.
Him: What you doin' with that ol' red headed boy?
Me: Uh...sir?
Him: What you doin' with that ol' red headed boy?
Me: *awkward pause & and nervous giggle* I'm not doing anything. See you later!

So...I sent Chris a message telling him what had just happened, and told him that I thought Mr. Larry already knew. Chris said that he thought he knew, too, because Mr. Larry had seen him and his girlfriend out somewhere one day. (Someone said the girlfriend reminded them of me...perhaps more than one person thinks that? Weird.)

I'm not sure why I have such a problem telling him that we aren't together anymore. Anyone else, if they ask, I'm just like, "We're divorced." or "He's not my husband anymore." or whatever...sometimes, I like to see the awkward look on their face. That's mean...I know.

Sometimes, I wonder if preachers feel like they have failed when someone they married gets divorced. Perhaps I don't want him to think it was his fault...

Who knows, cupcakes.

Bittersweet Victories

So...if you recall, I was trying to by a car last week...

This was my first time purchasing a car on my own. Researching, shopping, dealing, & signing. I knew I had a budget. I knew I had to stick to it. I found the car I was interested in, even though I never thought I had a shot in a million years. The way I figured it, however, was that it couldn't hurt anything to try (other than my feelings).

So, I laid awake every night for about a week, figuring and calculating trying to come up with what I could afford. Finally, I got in touch with a few dealerships, and some of them were quick to tell me I'd never get it. I would tell them, "Okay. Thank you for your time. I'll try somewhere else." And that would be that.

I made an appointment at Atwood Chevrolet. I went in, drove the car that had been keeping me up at night, and threw some numbers back and forth. When I left there, I was so confused, which I know is what they bank on. However, I stood my ground and didn't make a decision that day. I told them that I was planning on purchasing a car before the end of the month, but that I had someone else I was going to see the next day. (Apparently it's good to let them know you have options. Kinda puts the pressure on.)

Big mistake!

The second guy...wow...I'll let the letter I wrote him here explain that story.

Needless (I'm sure) to say, I had already made up my mind that I would not be purchasing from him. So I called back my contact at Atwood, gave her the scoop, and told her to see if she could do better. If she couldn't, I just would have to wait, re-group, and try again later. After all, it's not as if I need a new car...I just want one.

The next day, she told me the best she could do was $428 on the notes. I was not paying that much. I told her I appreciated everything, but that was too high. So she tried again. Came back right under $400. I told her that was still too high, that I would just resign my new car hunt, and figure something else out, but that I would definitely let her know when I got ready to try again.

She apologized, saying that if there was any way they could do any better on it, they would, definitely.

I let it ride the rest of the week, holding out hope that she would call me back. (but not much...)

Finally, on Monday, I sent her a message asking if she had sold my car. She told me that it was still waiting on me.  I informed her that they only needed to come down about $30 on the note. She, again told me that if they could, they would...but they just couldn't....and added that if I gave up only 2 cokes a day, it could be mine! (I don't even drink cokes...I told her as much.)  I told her, though, if it got to the end of the month, and they still hadn't sold it and wanted to come down, to let me know.

Tuesday morning, I got a message from her telling me if I could come up with just a little more to put down, they could get my notes to what I was wanting. I told her I had what I had, and that's what I had. So she was like, "Okay...well she's working on it, I'll let you know."

Miraculously, 2 days before the end of the month, they've managed to finagle things and pull some strings and get my notes right where I want them.

I'm, now (along with the bank...), the proud (so proud I can't stand myself) new owner of this:

2008 Cadillac CTS

This is not your grandmother's Cadi.

I think I might still be dreaming..

Leather interior with wood grain accents.

It's pretty much a spaceship.

If you're in the area, go to Atwood's Chevrolet!

You win some. You lose some. I won! I stuck to my guns, and got what I wanted! I'm so proud of myself just for not caving and trying to make it work with the higher notes, just because I wanted a new car.

This was a bittersweet victory, because I'm really going to miss my little G6...at first...

You were a good little car! Thank you for your service! *hugs*

Happiness & Cupcakes, my loves!

Age of Names

Is it just me, or are there certain names that are meant for old people and certain names meant for young people?

For example...I know a lady who's 85, and her name is Doris Lacy _____. Today, I was imagining that when she was younger, perhaps she went by "Lacy" because, to me, that sounds like a young name.  If that was, in fact, the case...at what point did she decide, "I'm too old for 'Lacy'. I think I'll start going by 'Doris'." She goes by "Doris", now, and I just don't think that "Doris" is a young person name.

Okay...and my name. Kimberly, Kim, Kimmie...all of those sound young...and I don't even have an older sounding name to switch too! Unless...I go by "Kay" when I get older...which...I guess would work...but at what point do I start using that?!

Am I insane? Why would I even give it that much thought?

Oy.

Where you been?

Sometimes, you win. Sometimes, you lose.

I didn't get the car I was looking at. I'm rather bummed. I had managed to let myself get super psyched up about it. I was so close. They couldn't get my notes where I wanted them. I could have paid what they were putting me at, but...I simply didn't want to. Whereas it wouldn't cause a problem now, in the future, anything could happen, and I'd be screwed.

Oh well.

I have weird dreams. Sometimes, they're all over the place, don't make sense, full of mystery and faces that you can never see. Other times, they are cohesive, sensible, and seem like real life. I'll open my eyes, confused for a moment because I'm convinced, for a moment, that I was just somewhere else.

I have a couple of books on dream psychology, by Freud, on my Kindle. I've been looking at them a little (but honestly, I haven't had much time, even for reading.)

Some friends and I kind of discussed dreams and such a few weekends ago. A brother/sister duo said that they have both had dreams about stuff before, only to have it happen in real life later. When it does happen later, they experience that feeling of deja vu and then remember having the dream. That sounds like some psychic shit to me.

Deja vu...This is my theory. Deja vu is proof of reincarnation. Mhmm...What else could possibly explain the familiar feeling of being somewhere, doing something, that you know for a fact that you have never done? (At least in this life...)

I'm distracted. *sad face* I promised a cohesive post, and I have failed horribly. If this post isn't all over the place, I dunno what is... Ugh...

I'll try again...

*sigh*