My proverbial dander is up

Okay, I try not to talk about politics or political scandal because... well, generally it doesn't interest me too much. But being a lifetime resident of the state of South Carolina, I'm feeling the urge to exercise my first amendment rights on the topic of our recent political embarrassment, and as a woman, I would like to express my disgust and outrage on a more personal level.

How should I put this? *ahem* MARK SANFORD YOU LYING, CHEATING, DESPICABLE PIECE OF SHIT... but that's not very original, is it? I might need a second to rethink my statement.

Well, as I said, as a lifetime resident of the great Palmetto State, you kind of learn to be the butt of the country's joke every now and then. What with our failing education systems and high rates of teen pregnancy and syphilis, we're not exactly considered among the elite of the nation. And let's not forget Miss Teen South Carolina "some people don't have maps" bimbo bitch that made our state collectively cringe for the next month as the clip made its rounds on YouTube (and thank you Carrie Prejean for erasing that memory with your bigotry and grossly fake tits; you are my hero *rolls eyes*). Don't get me wrong. I live in the most beautiful city in a beautiful, wonderful state, but even I'm a little sensitive to the national flak we get sometimes.

I'm trying to approach the subject delicately because I don't want to belittle the point I intend to make with silly name-calling and finger-pointing. I have never been a Republican, I WILL never be a Republican, and I never voted for our dear Governor Sanford. That said, I still had a moderate amount of respect for the man. In fact, I've actually met him. Granted it was... oh, 13 years ago or so back when he was just in Congress and I was in DC on a school trip. But I was impressed with him when I met him and I felt at least a little satisfaction in him getting elected governor, if it had to be a Republican. And yeah, the whole bullshit about attempting to deny the state much needed stimulus money... that was pretty embarrassing when it hit national news, but he was standing up for something he believed in, and you can't really knock somebody too much for doing that.

And then this shit comes out about him going to Argentina on some very expensive booty call, and I can't help but take it more than personally. As a woman whose husband cheated very recently, I take great personal offense on the behalf of his wife and every woman who has been or will be betrayed by a man she loves, trusts, and in whom she invests her life. Mark Sanford, not only have you shamed your family, you have shamed your whole fucking STATE. And being the Democrat I am, I could care less how much you've shamed your party as well. But it takes a real shady mother fucker to lie to everyone and ditch your FOUR KIDS ON FUCKING FATHER'S DAY to go get some ass in South America.

I've read all the articles. Read some of the published e-mails between them. I couldn't read them all... after a while the governor started turning into my husband in my head and it hurt to read. But I hope I'm not the only one who realizes that a woman scorned is a force to be reckoned with, and being in the majority of the population, I would really advise the governor to end his political career as soon as possible if he wants to avoid the fallout. His wife may be the patron saint of patience and forgiveness for all I know, but she is not nearly the only woman in his life that can make it hell. Governor Sanford, you have angered and disgusted a nation of scorned women. Prepare for the backlash.

I should put in this disclaimer that I mean that in no way as a threat to the governor. Like I said, there are plenty of women in his life that can make it hell for him... somehow I think whatever I could say to him personally will be said a hundred times over.

I'll be lucky if I'm not bald here shortly

So I got another haircut. Shorter, yes, by a good bit. But my last 'do was turning into a mullet by the day, and I can't have that, right? So I went a little modern this time, but it suits my glasses at the very least. AND I dyed my hair again... it's at least a uniform color now. That's all I ask for in life, that my hair all be the same color. I've gotten some decent reviews on the new haircut. I feel like every time I get it cut though it gets shorter and shorter and shorter. One of these days I'm just gonna shave it all off. :) That is very much a joke... as long as I stay on my medicine.

Pancakes and painkillers

Well, I went into work this morning really early. Maybe not THAT early, but I've been unemployed for seven weeks; 8 am is early for me. I seem to be doing alright... If anything I at least have a better memory than the person who was training me. Waiting tables is like riding a bike to me. Once I know where the hell to find everything and learn the menu, I shine. Okay, so I haven't learned the menu so well yet so shining isn't going to be an immediate thing, but I'm very distracted now.

I got a call from the hubs while I was at work. He needed help changing the dressings on his wounds. Like I said before, considering the reason for our split, we have a pretty amicable working relationship. And as I also said, he doesn't have much of anyone else. The girlfriend who's a nursing student was at work, so in a pinch I guess I'd do. I can tell he doesn't like asking me for help, but what am I going to do? Not help? *Sigh* I don't hate him enough for that. However, I obviously didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I should've known when he was taking the gauze off to take a shower (he was told to keep the wounds clean with soap and water) that it wasn't going to be a good situation. He was breathing heavily and muttering obscenities the entire time. So when he went to get in the shower, I excused myself for a smoke. There was nothing in that moment I could do to make his pain better, so I felt it better for myself not to listen to the pain he'd be in. One cigarette was not enough. I came back in and he was all but screaming, worse than I've ever heard from him times 1000. It was worse even in the ER when they were cleaning him up. Very, very upsetting. Mostly because I knew there was nothing I could do to make it better, being the future ex-wife and all. It's not really in my job description to hold and comfort and fawn over him. Of course I feel absolutely awful for him and, in a way, want to be there for him, and if he wasn't seeing his chick I probably would be over there a lot more. I'm just slightly comforted by the fact that he's got SOMEONE to care for him.

Anyway, I did, in fact, go into "Nurse Manda" mode once he was done taking God's name in vain and calling everything a MFer. I'm sure I didn't do nearly as good a job as his girlfriend could've done fixing him up, but I watched pretty carefully when they did him up in the ER and I'm pretty sure I covered all the basics. Ah well, if she doesn't like it, she can always fix it. He was at least appropriately grateful for my help. That's all I ask. I'm pretty sure he'd do the same for me. As I said before, I may not live with him anymore, but I didn't completely stop caring for him the second I moved out. I don't know if it's necessarily the best thing to be helping him, but there's something to be said for the golden rule.

Life gets complicated when you least expect it

So I got in a fight with my husband yesterday. Mostly I was feeling unusually bitter and upset, but I forget sometimes that this hurts him too. Anyway, I didn't feel too bad about voicing my opinions... till the accident. Someone made an illegal left hand turn in front of him at a light and he ended up on his side (not even sure if the bike rolled over him) and was pretty much literally ripped up from near his shoulder down. Thank God he was wearing his helmet, but he was still pretty effed up. Of course I was the one he called to come to the hospital with him; after all, we're technically still married and I both have his insurance card and have the authority to sign paperwork for him. And he doesn't really have anyone else. My parents kind of treat him like a pariah now, which is... not ideal. I don't hate him, I just don't want him as my husband. Anyway, he didn't break any bones, but the guy left the scene of the accident, and he didn't see the license plate of the car that did this to him and barely even saw the make of it, so it'll be hard to catch the guy. Sigh. Can't help feeling bad for him. This is where I would usually kick into "Nurse Manda" mode and do everything I could to take care of him. It was just brutal seeing him in so much pain while they were cleaning him up; I fought back tears as he tried not to scream. I did what I could though. I took him home, got his medicine for him and some ice packs... I would've done more if I hadn't had to rush to work (went well, btw). It just confuses things a little when he seems so helpless. Hard to stay mad at him, at the very least.

Yay!

I'm so excited about starting my new job today! I will not at all miss being unemployed. Having a free schedule was nice as far as the modeling thing was concerned, but the boredom that came along with 90% of my time definitely will not be missed. That and having to run up my credit card 'cause I'm broke as a joke... won't miss that either. I figure if I'm making $800 a month, which I think is well within my grasp, coupled with my disability money, I should be well taken care of when it comes to all my bills and money to live on. I should even be able to pay down my credit card pretty steadily. And the best part is that, in actuality, I really do love waiting tables. I love interacting with people and making them happy, even if it's only through being courteous and bringing them food. And the nice thing about Denny's is that they don't serve alcohol, and that takes a big load off my shoulders when it comes to training. And there are no pre-dinner salads or bread or chips and salsa or anything fancy like that... straightforward drinks, meal, drink refills, check. I like the prospect of that. No, I'm not going to make the kind of money I was making at Queen Anne's... I had times I was making $25/hr there. But I think the trade off for how much of a pain in the ass it was and having to drive to and from effing Daniel Island will be well worth it. YAY!

Recurring dreams can kiss my ass

I have a lot of recurring dreams, and they're all upsetting. Well, one is just a theme... about once a week I dream someone's trying to kill me in some horrible brutal way. Then there's the one when I'm back on the rowing team at Clemson. I imagine I dream about that so much because it was borderline-traumatic. I was no good at it and they never let me forget it. That and the whole permanent injury thing. *sigh* Then there's the one where I'm back working at Cisco's. I think that one stems from wishful thinking. I miss working there a lot, and I often dream that they didn't really close down. :( The last recurring dream I have is the worst though, the most hurtful. It bothers me even more than some maniac trying to kill me. It's the dream closest to reality... discovering my husband was cheating on me. It's always the same girl, the first one (who he SWEARS he never had sex with... whatever). Even after all this time, all I've been through since, I still have that dream once or twice a week. Not the exact same dream... different iterations of it. But I always wake up on the verge of tears feeling like my heart has been freshly broken. My doctor yesterday said I'm doing remarkably well for having gone through my separation, but how do you feel anything but relief when you leave someone who keeps breaking your heart over and over and over? I still have a lot of feelings for him, but they're not the same. They stopped being the same when he told me he loved me like a sister and wasn't at all attracted to me. I've lost 98% of my respect for him. I don't put him on a pedestal like I did with the ex before him. He doesn't deserve the love and adoration I had for him and he doesn't deserve to have someone around who took care of him the way I did. I can stay on friendly terms with him, and I want to, but he's not some high and mighty character in my opinion. He could have done a lot to make things right, and he didn't. I didn't give up on our marriage, he did. I gave up on being treated like a roommate instead of a wife. I gave up on having my self esteem constantly ripped to shreds. I gave up on being treated like I can't fucking take care of myself, that I need HIM of all people to take care of me. How the hell can you take care of someone when you hurt them so badly and have no remorse for it? *Sigh* I'm just bitching.

For as smart as I am, I sure am stupid...

hung waaaaaaaaaaaay over

Drinking is bad, m'kay? That's why I don't do it. No, I don't not do it because it's "bad", I don't do it because I get no social benefit out of being drunk 'cause I'm already personable and it makes me sick as a damn dog. SO THEN WHY DID I DO IT?! I was fine after the first Grand Ma, fine after the Royal Motherfucker, fine after the Firefly and lemonade... then Patron factors into the equation. Tequila and I have a hate-hate relationship... I hate the taste and it gets a kick out of making me miserable. But for some reason I had the urge to shoot straight tequila. That was really dumb. And then who would turn down a free shot? Thank God I had a designated driver, or I'd be crashing on the back porch of Juanita Greenberg's. Or more likely, in the bathroom of Juanita Greenberg's. But I haven't felt this terrible for non-medical reasons in a very, very long time. I blame the tequila, not myself for having consumed it. :P I didn't even get fun drunk. I was okay to stumbling drunk (and WHY did I wear heels? Oh right, 'cause drinking's stupid) to puking four times on the way back to my apartment, including in some poor guy's driveway downtown, in no time flat. Not my proudest moment. I seem to be having a severe lack of proud moments lately. Wonder why that is.

It's never fun when the rainbow goes brown...

*SIGH* This is officially the last picture of me with my purple hair. I loved it, but it's already gone back to something "natural", both grudgingly and gladly. Why gladly, if I loved it so much? BECAUSE I GOT A JOB!!! *celebrates* Okay, I'll admit, the job is neither fantastic nor glamorous. I'm going to be a waitress at Denny's. But who gives a fuck? Not me. I like the idea of being able to pay my rent, thank you very much. And it's actually a pretty nice place. But the first words out of the hiring manager's mouth when I sat down were, "The purple is gorgeous, but it's gotta go." Ah well. I got the job. I knew I'd give up my wild hair in a second to take a job. And now I have a job and dark brown hair with only the slightest hint of purple in the background.

Lord, have mercy!

So I hadn't felt right the last couple days, but last night when the pain was suddenly so bad I couldn't sleep, I finally went into the emergency room. The culprit? Tiny little kidney stones. FUCKING KIDNEY STONES!!! ARRRGH! And of course I was stupid enough to drive myself there last night when I knew they were going to give me something that'd make me drowsy, so mom drove me home. She's a great mom... who else would drive 30 minutes at 2:30 am just so their daughter wouldn't have to make a 3 minute drive home woozy? Luckily Wendy took me to get my car this morning so I didn't have to be a martyr and walk or impose on my mother any more to take me back to get it. The pain meds are wearing off and the pharmacies don't open for two more hours... uhg.

Busy day ahead

As the title says, I have a very busy day ahead of me... as busy as one can be when one is unemployed. As soon as nine o'clock rolls around, I'm headed up to Wal-Mart to see about getting some new glasses. Yes, I'm getting glasses rather than contacts. They last longer and I don't have to worry about losing one in the shower or the pool. And I really don't need glasses that badly that I have to wear them at all times. I actually see better at the computer without them, and when I'm in the comfort of my apartment I don't really wear them at all. Anyway, I've lost a contact while driving before... that's a scary experience 'cause that's when I really need them. Then I have to make my way to the bank and get statements from my accounts for the last two months or so so they can see how I've spent my settlement money and make sure I'm poor enough to qualify for Supplemental Security Income as well as my disability check every month. Then I have the appointment itself this afternoon. That'll be a barrel of monkeys. Then, provided the weather doesn't prohibit me from doing so, I pretty badly need to take out my trash and clean up the apartment. I haven't had anyone over in a while so I've gotten a little lax about keeping things clean. At least I got my laundry done this weekend... what a relief! It's amazing to me that I actually had enough underwear to last three weeks. Go figure...

Flaming red hair!!!

Yeah, so I went a little nuts and dyed my hair a tad brighter than I should have for somebody looking for a job. But what are the odds that my future employers are going to let me dye my hair such a brilliant shade of magenta? And I'm not exactly getting a ton of interviews, so why not brighten my hair, and thus brighten my spirits? Changes in my hair have always been closely linked to changes in my mood... whether it's a drastic cut (two months ago) or a drastic change in color, it's pretty evident that I've had a pretty drastic shift in mood as well. I was pretty depressed the last couple days, but today I kinda got out of my funk, and I hate to admit it, but going unnaturally redheaded helped that along quite well.

First paid shoot today!

I had my first paid shoot today. $75 an hour to get my picture taken? Fuck yeah. It was an interesting concept... lingerie on the beach. I haven't seen any of the pictures yet obviously, but I'm thinking it could be cool. It was hot as hell though, so I totally hopped into the water, lingerie and all. I had a lot of fun and got paid and hopefully got some great shots to add to my portfolio.

Oh my, oh my.

The novel is coming along better than could be expected for someone with as short an attention span as mine. I've written twelve pages so far. I went ahead and wrote the prologue and introduced my main character a bit who, in my first draft at least, is solely based on me. As I said before, I began writing in the middle, with what is freshest in my head. I was correct in my assumption that it would help me be more able to separate the necessary from the unnecessary elements of my story, but I also wonder if that's why I've ONLY written twelve pages so far. But really, as far as the more recent stuff goes, I've said about all there is to say. I don't think I need to overburden myself writing page upon page about the last month of my life, as life changing as it has been. I think the bulk of my writing material will be based on my relationships with my ex and my husband. Of course, I've told my husband I'm writing a book based on my life. He was not thrilled. He thinks he's going to come off looking bad. I told him flat out, "Of course you won't. The character who's analogous to you will though." That's kind of a bitchy thing to say, but he put me through enough that I think changing his name and the details of our issues is more than he deserves. And I'm pretty certain about using a pen name. I don't want mom disowning me either. :) As it goes right now, I'm writing my first draft as absolute non-fiction and with little to no dialog. Basically it's more of a fleshed-out outline. Once I get all the topics I cover onto paper, I can go back and sensationalize and fictionalize and change names and details. Ideally, none of the players in this story will ever be the wiser that I've written about them. It's an interesting process... very therapeutic, and also very time consuming. Both very good things.

The great american novel, and other stuff.

So I began writing my proposed novel yesterday. It's actually coming along surprisingly well considering my lack of focus. I'm beginning right in the middle of the story though. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. What it helps me do is realize what I need to explain in the beginning, and where I need to go with the story to come up with an interesting ending. Of course, there are a few things of which I'm already sure. The material for the beginning is all there, in my head, but the fact is that there's so much material that I need to weed out the unnecessary details. I need to make this succinct and readable without droning on about things that only I would find important.

So I have a couple shoots this week, both somewhat paid. One is going to be out on the beach, which should be fun.

I had a job interview today, which was a minor disaster. That's not to say I feel like I did anything wrong, but they basically had me believing there was no way I would get the job before I even sat down, and they made clear their unwillingness to train me. So... that one's pretty much fucked. I'll keep trying some other prospects until I finally obtain some sort of employment.

I go into the social security office in a week. That's going to be at the very least terribly frustrating, but hopefully I will come away from it having convinced them that my income and resources are limited enough that I require extra assistance from the government. I might even be able to get food stamps. We'll see I guess.

It's not so great experiencing it...

Well, even though my soap-opera life seems to get more complicated by the day, I'm very much looking to write about it all. Not in my blog, obviously, although I hint at things I probably shouldn't. Like I said, I need to write it all down in a short story or novel. Perhaps what I'll do is keep a real journal on my computer and see where that takes me as far as giving me ideas for my story. I could probably write ten chapters on my disaster of a marriage alone, and even then I don't think I'd necessarily be doing the absolutely disastrous nature of it justice. I shouldn't put it quite so harshly. My husband and I are still on cordial terms, but there's no denying how liberated and relieved I felt leaving him... that must mean the relationship was a little more than, as my therapist put it, "fucked up." That is a direct quote, by the way. It's funny hearing someone you respect and who's supposed to keep her cool drop the f-bomb. But yes, intrigue and drama sell, and if I'm going to be a serious writer, I've got to make someone want to keep reading. More importantly, I've got to write about something interesting enough to keep my attention long enough to write it. So that's my plan: keep the most truthful account of what has happened recorded, if only for myself to read, until I have enough material to take to a publisher, or at least a good editor. I don't expect to skyrocket to fame, but at least I can get an interesting story out there and see where it takes me.

Drinking is best left to the professionals

Lately I've been going to sleep very early. I mean, we're talking about between 5:30 and 8 pm early. Mostly out of sheer boredom and loneliness. So it was getting near my "bedtime" last night and I saw my neighbor hanging out on his porch, and we're on pretty friendly terms, so I went up to say hi. "Hi" turned into four hours of conversation and WAY more than I should've had to drink. He had quite a bit more than I had and still seemed pretty okay, but me, I was stumbling-ass drunk. Still, after I went back to my own apartment and proceeded to puke my guts out (and thank goodness I did... not terribly hungover this morning), I was still grateful for the company and having someone to really talk to. However, I think it would be in my best interest, next time I hang out with someone who's drinking, to just control myself and accept the offer of water rather than booze.

Celebrity crushes are fantastic

Celebrity crushes are fantastic and far superior to real ones. Allow me to explain myself. While real crushes can lead to wonderful things if they work out EXACTLY perfectly, 90% of the time they just get you hurt. It's easier by far to be far away, knowing there's never any chance of you even meeting, let alone getting personally shot down. Personally I have a celebrity crush right now, and the feeling is wonderful. It's so much less complicated than ANYTHING else in my life. I'm not saying who or why, but he's plastered all over my desktop background making me melt every time he smiles, which of course he's always doing because he's frozen in time. Aaah. Yes, I totally feel like a teenager, and even moreso because he's younger than me. :( I'm not REALLY that old, am I? Ah well. I'm not out to have ten thousand of his babies (although were he to offer... just kidding); I just like to look at him. It's that simple. Being able to appreciate someone's beauty without fear of rejection or intimidation is a lovely thing.

Fictionalizing the reality

Well, considering all that has transpired in my life over the last year or so, I am considering writing a short story and/or novel based on it all. Of course, that means I'd need to fictionalize it to some degree, more out of protection for myself than any of the key players. I don't really care if it hits too close to home for my husband, because he did me so wrong that I don't mind if something I write makes him uncomfortable. But I might take up a pen name or something to protect myself from scrutiny from my family... after all, they've never heard the whole story. They've never known the depths of the betrayal. So if I could quietly pass off my story as a good work of fiction, maybe that could protect them in some way. But in essence, I want to keep the story the same. Change names, locations, dates, etc., but mainly tell it like it was. I'll give it a shot and see how it works out.

The soap opera that is my life

My life is one big fucking soap opera right now. Too much drama, too many characters, too many story lines to keep up with at once. I'll tell you what the problem is: men. Perhaps it's more my interactions with them that are the problem... not sure. Got the husband I left still trying to be my best friend, the guy I'm currently "with", the guy I could see myself falling in love with if he'd only give me a chance, and then a flurry of others of varying roles and importance. And in the center of it all is ME. But I can hardly take myself out of the equation, can I? *sigh*

As far as the modeling thing goes, I have a shoot coming up on the 10th with another out-of-town photographer coming to the area. It's not REALLY paid, but I get some gas money out of it at least. I have another shoot coming up a bit later in the summer (depending on when they come down here) that I'm slightly nervous about, but I think we should be able to pull it off in a way I'll be pleased with.

The job front is frustrating as always. My caseworker at vocational rehab seemed more concerned with talking about the demise of my marriage than with finding me a damn job. Once I finally got her back on task, she was pretty helpful though. Filled out a couple applications, sent in a couple resumes, etc. And may I just say that HNS (code name for my neighbor... if you need to know what it stands for, just ask. :)) was extremely helpful the other night when he helped me write a new resume. I have a fucking awesome resume now! I have faith I'll get a job before my money runs out and I have to beg my parents for help. *fingers crossed*

Another day, another shoot

photo credit: Gary Eaton

So I had another shoot yesterday. It went relatively well, although most the ones I have gotten so far are nude... I'll post one that isn't though. I am getting a few offers to work with other photographers, but I have to be very careful which offers I except so I make sure I don't get sucked into doing something pornographic. Ah, life is difficult right now. The unemployment issue still lingers, obviously. I'm more focused on my personal life at the moment. On one hand, I've been talking to this one guy who seems sweet as can be, and on the other hand, I've had a few... indiscretions. I'm only human. Very human, as it turns out. But I really really need to work on that. I want to be better than someone living by the most basic instincts. I don't necessarily want to get back up on the high moral pedestal I used to put myself on in the past, but I want to be more than a human animal.

Do I know you?

It's funny when something comes along that makes you wonder about how well you really know yourself. I know I talked about that some in my last entry, but it's odd... it's like, you come across something, and you realize that either A) it's changed you completely, or B) you've been this way all along without expressing it. I'm leaning towards B. I like to think nothing small fundamentally changes who I am as a person. But hell, you never know.