The Only Acceptable Flakes Are Frosted

Michael likes to give people second chances. And third chances. And fourth chances. I really don't know what that dude's limit is. Mine? I don't like to give people chances at all. I don't even understand why or how I have friends. I'm kind of a dick. I develop preconceived notions about people and it takes ages, and Mike yelling at me about it, to give those people a fresh start. Sometimes I don't let the notion go or don't let my perceived wrongs be righted. I'd rather fester over it and be bitchy than address it with the offender. I'm trying to get better- three people have called me out on it. I'm also pretty terrible at being okay with some offenders but not others. It usually takes Mike pointedly talking to me about it for me to realize I need to learn to play well with others. Who knew that under this smiling facade I'm just an asshole pessimist about relationships?

I wasn't always like this. My approach was always to think the best of people until they prove otherwise. Over and over again. But I confused that with letting people walk all over me. And walk all over me for years. Now I'm struggling to find the balance of a fair shake and keeping myself intact. It was up until two years after college, when I really started to find myself, that I grew a backbone. It took a series of poisonous relationships to find the kind of people I want to keep in my life. And I've been mostly successful. I have wonderful and fulfilling friends but I still find myself spending time with people who say things that deeply insult me. And I can't find the courage to tell them so.

Somehow my ability to express myself more fully than other people- to share when I'm truly hurt- brands me as "too sensitive." I was too sensitive and I still have buttons that knock me down when pushed but I'm not so sensitive that I haven't developed a sense of humor about myself. The friends who truly understand me make me feel free to express myself whether I'm sad, angry or totally jazzed. (Besides, I'm not all that good at hiding my emotions. I am what I am.) When I'm most emotional and vulnerable the more hurtful friends invalidate my feelings. Why do I put up with it? Because social-ness requires it. I'm sort of forced to "get over" all the things they do that upset me. Oh. That's why I don't tell them when they bother me. I know exactly what they'll say. That I'm in the wrong for feeling the way I do. Those relationships are slowly becoming shallow just as a way to maintain them.

So much of my time has been spent putting up with shit from my family that I wouldn't tolerate from a friend. Stuff that a friend would never put me through. I suppose that's why I don't like giving people too many chances to let me down. New friends or old friends. I get enough of it elsewhere. It's exhausting and totally unfair to myself and the happiness I'm struggling to find and keep to start giving the Flake another change to flake on me. Or the Bully to invalidate me again. Or the Rich to make me feel poor. I don't need it in my life. But it's there. And sometimes I feel like I'm losing myself in the struggle to accept it and deal with it.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Mike and I are thinking of leaving our national bank for a local credit union. We have many reasons for this. One of which being I am looking into some financing and a credit union offers much better rates on all kinds of services. Compared to banks, interest rates are lower when you want them to be low and higher when you want them to be high. And he and I are intrigued by the national movement of leaving the "too big to fail" banks that are in fact, failing.

I decided to start shopping around today. Some friends of mine were members of a local credit union until they moved so I'm going to pick their brains. In the meantime I called SEFCU of Albany to ask them if I could check out their online banking interface. If there is anything I love about Bank of America it's the amazing online banking tools (there surely isn't much else.) All the others I've seen pale in comparison. The very helpful and nice SEFCU service rep directed me to a demo and I was able to poke around. Being a bank-life-long customer of Bank of America I'm having a hard time dissecting my feelings about the interface. I can't tell if I'm just so pampered by Bank of America or if the site isn't what I like to see. Then I start to wonder if the online tools are so important that I risk smart money moves in the future. Should this be so scary?

This is all in the beginning phase and I'm sure we could always go back to Bank of America if SEFCU doesn't work out. But who wants to deal with constantly switching bank info? I don't have too many automatic payments, so that's no biggie. And it really could be a smart move for us. I stuck with my bank out of what I thought was convenience but really, it's not all that convenient. And besides, the credit union costs two dollars less a transaction from non-union ATMS. And that difference really adds up. As would many little differences. Maybe I just solved my conundrum...

Now I Can Have a Breather

My mother is a nutjob. Yeah yeah yeah, everyone's mom is a little crazy. And mine does not take the cake but she most certainly takes the cookie. I have contemplated cutting her out simply because I don't want to mother my mother. I want my mother to mother me. I can't call her for anything because she takes a quick how do you boil an egg phone call into whatever current boyfriend is or isn't doing to make him her knight in shining armor. It is exhausting. What the hell did I do in the last round of life to get such a wackadoo for a mom? I dunno but I'm trying to do better for next time. Because this blows. I can't do it again in the next life. And the kicker is the only person who understands my frustration is Mike. My siblings just think I'm a jerk. They think Mom and I just know how to push each other's buttons but the reality of the situation is my mother shares things with me that as my mother, she shouldn't- and I won't share them on this blog, and she doesn't share it with either one of them. Their ignorance is their bliss and my eternal frustration.

Since Mike and I did so much, all, of the wedding ourselves short of cooking the food we needed help from friends and family. Some people were a pleasure to work with. My mother made me want to pull my hair out and cry. And it was because she just didn't listen to me. She would hear me but not pay attention to the feelings I was sharing with her. And she never really has. Mike thought this post crosses my line of things I could never say to someone but write about. I don't. I've told her about this blog. I've showed it to her. She could even find it on my Facebook page because somehow Facebook friended us without me knowing. But the reality of the situation is if this has nothing to do with her current boyfriend, how much I love her and need to be her friend or a video of me singing from high school she's not interested. I have no outlet other than this blog and no way of bettering my relationship with her.

I rant and rave and laugh and scream about how unavailable and emotionally immature and irrational my mother is. But my pseudo life coach and holistic nutritionist gave me a pack of affirmation cards and one card I happened to select after a coaching session said, "I forgive my parents for their childhoods and they are in my life to teach me exactly what I need to learn." It really freaked me out. My mom is the way she is because that is exactly how she was raised. And though I want to blame her for it, I ultimately can't. In the mean time, thanks to Mom, I've learned how to have an open and honest communication with everyone in my life. I've learned how to have a functioning romantic relationship. I've learned how to really listen to people. And I wouldn't have learned any of it if I wasn't forced to work my way through this relationship. She taught be by example. In the totally opposite way.

Whaddya Think?

For you eagle eyed readers I changed my layout and color scheme. This may mean the end of my masthead photos because I think it makes the heading look a little strange. But I like changing it on a monthly basis and sharing some cool images I find with you all. I really want some opinions on this. What do you think? And go!

The Book of Love

The new masthead is from our wedding. That's how Mike and I decorated the ceiling of the pavilion. I've posted the whole picture of the finished product here. I just want to say how much I love and appreciate everyone who was a part of our wedding. There really is no way it could have happened without them. My heart is full. Thank you.

My dearest readers, would you like to see more pictures? I'd be happy to post them if you'd like. I don't want to cram them down your throat. What I will cram down your throat are some crazy ass stories about the worst customer service I've ever heard of. And about how my mother got engaged after knowing a man for three weeks and told me on my wedding weekend by insinuating out of her ass. Oh, I guess I just told you the whole story.

Quickie

I woke up this morning with no appetite. Hhhmmmm. I never wake up with an appetite. What I mean to say is I woke up this morning with a case of nerves that made food unappealing. I got over it eventually but if I feel like this now, I don't want to know what Saturday morning is going to feel like. Holy heck I'm excited but nauseated. There is so much to do how will I remember to do it all? Someone tell me I will.

[I found a post that I wrote and edited but never published back in April about the cleanse. Check it out. Now it's totally random but still good. And very tasty looking.]