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Cold Feet in 100 Degree Weather

Well!  Big news.

1) I’m in escrow

2) I’m in escrow with that guy I hike with

3) I have a ring on my finger

4) I’m having a nervous breakdown

 

And I swear to God, if one more person tells me ‘worrying won’t fix anything’ I’m going to end up in the news.  Yes, yes I AM aware that worrying will not help anything.  I however, AM a worrier.  Kinda had to be raising a son completely, physically and financially alone.   I’m also that person who you share a sad story with and I’ll cry FOR you.  An empath through and through – so, imagine being alone in my own head unattended!

I am stressing the hell out.  And I would be lying if I said that there is a small part of me hoping the house does not appraise.  Horrible, I know.  But, I’m nothing but honest.

This is a HUGE commitment!

It all began because my guy and I have some distance between us.  This month will be a year since we met – we needed to find a solution to our 45 minute drive.  That solution was apparently moving somewhere where I’ll have a twice daily 35 minute drive.

“I don’t mind.”  Said cheerful, dreamy, smitten me.  “I’ll commute as long as we’re together.”  (Insert fingers down throat and go ahead and gag now.)

 

Now, I’ll have to hop in here and interrupt myself by pointing out that in fact, the ONLY thing I’m certain of right now is my unwavering love for this man.  No, not the guy in the pic above, my guy.  So yeah, I am willing to have a tedious commute in trade for sharing a home with my future husband.  (Gulp.  Hold on.  Dizzy.)

 

“Tell us Amanda!  How did you get engaged?!”

Well.

We went looking at a house that actually happened to have EVERYTHING we both wrote on our ‘wish list’.  Acreage, HUGE ‘hangar’ ‘shed’ whatever.  Completely fenced.  In the area my honey is in love with.  (Me, not so much.  I could leave the desert tomorrow and be just fine.)  AND, an actual house with a wood burning stove and in need of LOTS of projects and fixing up.

We checked it out – stopped at a local place for a beer and a chat deciding whether we make an offer or not.

We both knew we loved it.  We both knew what our answer would be – but I had knots in my stomach.  Share a mortgage with someone and then what?  Can’t just walk away if you have an argument from a 30 year loan.

Well, not without serious repercussions.

So I asked the most important question:

“Most importantly, are you sure you want to do this with me?”

Him: “Yes, I’m never going to meet  anyone like you.  Maybe we need to go to Vegas.”

We went to my place and his response kept ringing in my ear.  He’d dropped other hints.  Like, when he bought into a claim put me down as ‘spouse’ and told me that.  No guy who doesn’t want to put any thoughts in his girlfriends head would say that.  Nor would they mention marriage at ALL or discuss anything close to the topic.  LOL!

So after the Vegas comment – I just straight up said, “Look, you keep mentioning things, and I’ll tell you right now, I’m not doing Vegas. IF that’s what you meant.”

(I hurt my parents once before by eloping – so that wasn’t going to be an option.)

I then approached him, got down on one knee and I popped the question.

Romantic as hell huh?

So that was out of the way.

We’ll most likely do it at a courthouse.  No guests, (except my parents).  Just quick nuptials and onto life.  We’ve both HAD the fancy, flouncy, over the top weddings.  We don’t need all that again.

So here we are.

Then on Mother’s Day, I learned that my parents are moving.  Leaving the area totally.  And, doing it very soon.  I NEED my ‘mummy’.  Truly.  There is just SO much going on and the last thing I thought could add itself to that pile would be the departure of my rock.  My number one fan.  We’ve never lived far from one another.  This was a huge blow for me.

I’ve downed an entire box of M & M’s today – yes, a box.  I’ve been spontaneously weeping.  I haven’t packed a f$%#ing thing (our close of escrow is the 25th).

My stress level is at an eleven.

Am I going to be that girl at the altar, or more fittingly, the signing table that blurts out, “I’m sorry – I just can’t do this!”  and runs dramatically out of the building?  Probably not.  I’ve got this ‘love’ thing going on with the other party.

But I needed everyone to know that it is TERRIFYING!!!  And this is with a guy I love more than any other guy!  This is with the person I WANT to spend the rest of my life with.  It’s not all smiles, handshakes and keys being handed to you ya know!  It’s “Oh shit, this is big.”  It’s “What if my car breaks down now I have this insane uphill desert commute?”  It’s “What if we move in together and hate it?”  It’s “Does he truly love me?”  It’s insecurities and fear and taking a leap when you’re sure there’s nothing to break your fall.

And being willing to regardless, because life has handed you something amazing.

 

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Wistful ladies and life after freedom of speech

I’ve been on a sabbatical of sorts from my site – for various reasons.  One of the least interesting being, my usual writing routine was disrupted due to no WIFI at the laundromat.

Some other reasons include:  Lack of interest, health issues, life changes, procrastinating purchasing batteries for my wireless keyboard …

Some writer I am.

Poe didn’t just lay around staring at his quill and just thinking about penning more cousin pining perversion or tooth obsession.  He got on with it.

Then again, he did have a metaphorical raven egging him on.

If I’m going to be truly honest though – (ironic considering what I’m trying to say) I can no longer not edit myself here.

Recent events I want to share with you involve others and I don’t have the license or lack of conscience to tell their story.

Even if I was cryptic they would know who they were – and I don’t want to hurt anybody.

I seriously considered taking Debauchery Soup down completely.

I’d rather not write at all than not write honestly.

But, there have been some past pieces that I’m quite proud of over the years.  In addition, pieces I know have helped others (I do read the private emails and comments I receive from the side bar) so, Soup remains.

I’ll tell you some good news though.

I conquered agoraphobia!

My anxiety has decreased significantly.

I’ve been not only leaving the house – but, ‘peopling’.

I’ve acquired a social life.  Yes, me.  OK, so it’s still heart pounding to begin with – but I find myself settling in no time.

I honestly can’t remember the last time the house was cleaned from top to bottom, I haven’t been cooking.  I’m enjoying life home alone because I’ve finally accepted that things don’t constantly NEED to be done – I can take time for myself even if there is a dish in the sink or dog hair on the carpet.

Which does now remind me of a story I can share.

Comfy?  Ready?  Here we go:

_________________________________________________________________________________

 

I was in a clothing store early in the week perusing the racks of dresses when a petite older lady approached me.

“Did you ever find something that fit so perfectly and was so lovely that you just HAD to have it?”

(These encounters happen often for me – strangers coming up to me and chatting)

I saw the top she was holding up.  It was teal, flowing, layered and sparkly.

“I have.  That’s beautiful!”

“Oh,” she said, “It is – but, I don’t have anywhere to wear it.”

“Why not wear it at home and have a glass of wine?”

“I don’t drink.”  She answered.

“Ok, well, the holidays will be here before you know it!”

“Then it will be too cool to wear this.”

At this point, I’m invested in this woman getting the top for herself.  But she continued with,

“Besides, it’s a younger girl’s style.  I’m 80.”

“More the reason to get it then!  No time like the present!”

“I think it’s too dressy for church too …”

I’m torn at this point between smiling and exiting the conversation while internally yelling ‘don’t get the fucking top then!’  Or doing everything in my power to make sure she left the store with it – whether that meant I purchased it for her or took her hostage to the cashier and forced her to treat herself.

“Certainly they have functions though?”

“No, not my church.”

I was striking out – and long past looking for anything for myself.  I wanted this little lady to have something that she had loved on her – something that had made her feel beautiful and wistful.

She suddenly remembered she had a similar, less splashy top in her other gnarled hand.

“OH!  Well – I should probably try THIS one on.”

I smiled and we parted.

I left hoping that other top fit just as well – but also sad that she didn’t get the one she obviously adored.

She was being practical I know.  But sometimes we have to treat ourselves to something fanciful.

And that’s how I’m living life lately.

Doing things that make me happy and not questioning a thing.

My life right now IS that lady’s sparkly layered top.

Musings from … Home. Peopling, policing and pushing myself edition.

I peopled yesterday.

Twice.

Let’s rewind.

Tuesday night, my heart decided to go into overdrive – not anxiety, but my ticker issues.  I reached out to one of my bosses who talked me through it.

I was terrified.  Especially when I began experiencing disassociation  and couldn’t form sentences correctly.  THEN began the anxiety attack.

Double whammy.

Wednesday morning, I couldn’t walk Butters.

(Who, by the way, is enjoying a cuddle day today – she’s been slowing up of late and walking stiffly.)

ANYWAY.

I was exhausted from the previous night.  Shaky, and experiencing the ‘anxiety/heart cough’.  Those who have anxiety know this.  It’s an involuntary action that seems to try to regulate the heart beat.

Called another boss and explained I needed time to get into work as I didn’t trust myself to get in the shower.  Dizzy, and felt like a new born lamb – wobbly on my feet.

Bottom line, ended up not going into work at all.  Rested a lot and recovered.

I get so frustrated with the anxiety.  I also get frustrated with the few people in my life who seem to think I choose to have these debilitating ‘spells’.

I do not choose this.

My heart is a horse of another color – and is pretty much managed with the digoxin.

Thing is though, because I do NOT choose the anxiety, I decided to put myself out there.  Out … There.  Eek.

_______________________________

O.K.  So, onto the good stuff.

Yesterday I had plans with one of my dearest friends.  We were going to have breakfast.

Simple enough no?  Driving is hard for me – when I go outside of my comfort route.

I did it though.

Had a lovely time and rented a delicious meal. Lol.

(I got the veggie skillet – but it was still greasy, so, you get the reference, I won’t go more into that.)

At one point, my friend said this:

Her: I’m a terrible friend.  I don’t call, I don’t visit.

Me: No you’re not!  I know you love me, and I don’t call or visit either!

And truly, that saying – about friends who pick up right where they leave off is so true.  I don’t question her love for me – and I hope she doesn’t question mine.

Actually, she can’t lol!  She still works at the bank where we met so many years ago and every time I leave, in front of the entire room I say, “Bye for now, I love you.”

And she says it back.

_______________________________

Part two of the day.

Movie with another amazing friend.

When I met this guy – I felt an immediate pull.  His aura is so genuine and lovely.  He has many hidden talents and his authenticity is worn on his sleeve.  I knew I adored him after just a few chats.  Felt maternal and very happy to have found such an amazing soul.

We had plans to see Beauty and the Beast.

This is where things get funny.

I met him in the lobby of the theater.

(Another thing I love about him, he’s an ‘on time’ or ‘early’ person, like me.)

We get tickets and drinks and eagerly head to the theater room.

As soon as we enter and turn the corner to see the seats, I notice the back row pretty much filled (ok, maybe 8) with teens.

One says, “Hey, can you get me a drink?”

I didn’t think much of it, my eyes were still adjusting to the light and I figured he was talking to someone else.

Nope.

He was not.

I ignored this and we chose a seat behind a mom and her two little ones.

Then when two more teens came in and sat further up, the ‘gangstas’ threw a flip flop down at the newcomers.

“Why you sitting down there?”

Now I’m alert.

My friend and I decided to take bathroom breaks one at a time before the movie.  He went first.

Well.

While he was gone – things escalated a tad.

Now, I may be anxious, but I also have my moments of courage.

The back row was in full swing and when I heard one of them loudly toss the word ‘fuck’ around I whipped my head in their direction.

Me: HEY! There are little kids here!

Him: My bad – did you get me my chili cheese fries?

(Teen giggles from the peanut gallery)

Oh NO he didn’t.  What the actual hell?

Me: You want me to stay here or am I going to have to get up?

Silence.

My friend returned shortly after and mentioned he’d advised the lobby that there were some degenerates needing discipline.  After I emptied my hamster bladder, I did the same.

When I sat back down, the irony of the entire situation occurred to me.

These wanna be thugs were thugging at Beauty and the Beast!

Movie was amazing, I cried the minute the iconic ballroom scene began.  I remember thinking, “good thing Emma Watson has had so much experience acting with things that aren’t actually there.”

Then I had another thought, “what if wannabe thug has an older brother with a gun?”

But I did the right thing.

After all, this little Princess was there too. (Face blurred on purpose)

My friend and I left the movie and promised to see more together and after a hug said “Bye for now.”

Peopling worked out.

And today, with not even half a load of laundry, I stayed home loving on my pup, leaving only to grocery shop and pick up medicine.  And on the way home … Teared up a little at such a lovely weekend.

Musings from the Laundromat: Finger Lies and White Glove Cleaning edition

 

I peopled yesterday.

I SO peopled.

Made a return at a major store – found no replacement, went to another major store – this is after an uncomfortable drive to the first place.

_________________

Woke up.

Bathroom.

Care for pets.

Pills.

Shower.

Thought of leaving brings on another need for bathroom.

The drive: “OMG, why are they going so fast?”  “Am I going too slow?” “I have to be in this lane.” “Are they mad at me?” “They’re not going to let me in if I don’t move now.”

Store.

Bathroom.

Get me out of here!

_________________

Last store – my heart was ready to come out of my chest.  I entered Safeway.

Wiped my cart with the sanitary thingy – reach into my purse for my pen (I always do a ‘tally’ as I go) and ‘POKE’ … And OUCH.

I pulled my hand out of my purse and … Blood.

A lot.

A trial size perfume spritzer had shattered and the ‘poke’ was a shard of glass.

I headed to customer service because A) I am NOT going home now without my provisions and B) I needed her to check my lottery scratcher tickets because I am blind as Clarice Starling in Buffalo Bill’s cellar these days.

So I’m standing there – dripping on not only the cart, but the floor, my clothes, anything in my midst.

Me: (placing, very calmly, scratcher tickets on the counter)  Um, do you have a band aid?

Her: Wow.  You’re bleeding pretty bad.

Me: Yeah.

Her: OK. (Scurries off for ‘things’)

Me: I’m so sorry.

Her: Don’t be sorry.  How did you do that?

Drip.  Drip.

Me: (Feeling woozy, trying not to bleed everywhere and becoming increasingly aware of how much I am) I, um, I  was by the dispenser, the thing ..

Her: The sanitizer?  You cut yourself on the wipe container?

Me: Yes.

LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Liar!

LIE!

“Do you want to file a claim?”

No, no I didn’t lol. Because it wasn’t the dispenser’s fault.

She kindly patched me up and yes, I had missed a ‘winner’.  $10 in my pocket and a band aid on my finger and I was off.

But what WAS their fault?  The barricades in the aisles.  Stock people, I know you have to stock,  but, damn!  It’s hard enough for me to be in the store at it’s best time (which I still haven’t figured out) but when I’m doing a grocery version of a maze/obstacle course that’s ridiculous.

I was so DONE with being out, SO done with peopling and so mad at myself for allowing the sweet customer service lady to believe the sanitizer dispenser attacked me.

The rest of the day I spent cleaning and cooking.

It’s time for my annual home inspection – or as I like to think of it, ‘intrusive visit where photographs are taken of all my belongings’.

I clean all the time, but this visit calls for the white glove kind of clean.

You know, all the things you don’t do all the time.  (Or, maybe it’s just me?) Like, removing and washing the floor vents, cleaning the top of the  fridge, cleaning under sinks and tossing items not used even once since last inspection.

I got most everything done except my bedroom.

I just can’t get into gear to do it!

We all have that one room everything that doesn’t belong anywhere else ends up right?  Well, that’s my bedroom.

And it really sucks the ‘nest zen’ right out of my budoire.

I’ll get to it eventually.  I have a deadline after all.  That always motivates me.

But for today … I’m going to chill out a little.

Luckily, I am done with outside errands and there’s no more peopling in Sunday’s forecast.

 

Fish Grandma and Cryptic Message Unveiled.

Last sentence I said out loud: “I don’t know what I’m doing, I have a shitload of stuff!”

Metaphor for my life lol.

But, in actuality, I was carrying my iPad, my phone, my keyboard and my coffee into my bedroom.

Lately, things have been pretty amazing as far as ‘amazing’ can go when you’re alone, your favorite person is terminal and you’re hundreds of miles away from your guy.

In a moment of vanity, may we acknowledge how insanely odd the ‘pause’ button makes us look?  LOL!  OK, done with that.

SO! (Other than the fact I need to get a haircut …)

Obviously the call was from my guy.  It’s getting harder and harder being in a long distance relationship.  But, also, think it suits both of us, and that’s kind of scary.

Am I going to be 70 waiting for his call?  Just happy to have my own space and look forward to a call?  OR, can we one day come together?  I know as much as you do.

As for my son.

They’re moving again in mid-July.  The love of his life is continuing her education to get her Masters.  I’m proud of them both, but, won’t lie (like I ever here) I wish he would find HIS niche.  His ‘thing’.  I didn’t for the longest time, and let’s face it, he’s been in a relationship longer than I ever have lol!  So I’ll just shut up about that.

Speaking of kids and futures, I discovered today I may be a grandma …

See the blobs?

I think eggs.  I was cleaning out the fish I inherited and didn’t scrub those.

_______________________________________

OK, so, now a big ‘reveal’.  The other night I posted a cryptic message on my Facebook.  I HATE when people do that!  But, I did it.  I mentioned I was giggling on the porch and couldn’t mention why.

Well, I’ll tell you now.

First, let’s look at this weed that grew outside my office – I wanted to capture it before the gardeners pulled it.  So beautiful.

AND we segue into … “One man’s weed is another man’s flower”.

Those that follow me know that I am fighting not only agoraphobia, but severe anxiety/panic disorder and a heart condition.

I do ok.

But, I was given some medical marijuana from someone with a card.

I was dubious and scared.  I mean, today’s pot is NOT what I used to use.

Back in the day I remember laughing until my belly hurt under the stars camping, having ingested pot brownies.

I remember what pot USED to be.

I had a bad time with it a year or so ago.   Too strong for me.  I couldn’t even move my limbs.

Well, THIS has made a difference.

It’s been about a month now.

I went from having 4+ attacks per week to maybe one every two weeks.

Able to not only drive to a shop (no, not while ON it – stays in the system I think) but go IN and do my shopping.

Also, sleeping a whole lot better.

Unfortunately, this is the last of it.  But, seriously, marijuana needs to be legal medicinally everywhere!

Much better than the 3 toxic pills I take twice a day!!!

I, personally, can’t afford to get approved or afford a card.  But, having experimented, I can say that it helped BIG time!

You know, with my “Shitload of stuff”.  Lol.