Sunday, September 22, 2002

There are some things about my personality that I sincerely wish I could change. I have tried many times to change them and have documented some of the results in this very journal, and I am never happy with what I become. Yet, the real me, the me that I am at home, amongst my family, is often so strange that I disturb myself. Who runs around the house singing tv commercials, while their children follow like ducklings? or puts on blue facial mask and walks outside so the neighbors can have a giggle? Thats the crazy side, then I have my depressed side where I cuddle with my children and watch television, often not talking for a couple of hours. The only thing that I have truly accomplished in this journey of self-discovery is the ability to smile. My husband said I never smiled, now I smile whenever something pleases me, or at least try. As I told Nige, I am quite good at the "fake smile" and I try not to use that with my family and friends. The fake smile is something I developed to appease adults as a child. A lot of people use the fake smile. here are some fake smile people Nige and I thought of:

Miss America smile (nige)
Parade person smile
Retail Clerk smile
Lunch Lady smile
Television anchor smile
Mother-in-law smile


I can remember my second grade teacher, Mrs. Pope asking me if I was sad, and I would say no, and then she would ask why I didn't smile, and I remember thinking...why do people have to smile to show that they aren't sad? Now that I look at my children, I know the answer. Smiling is healthy and shows inner happiness. When my sons look at me and smile, I know they love me and are enjoying whatever they are doing. My perpetual scowl turned everyone off.


Another thing! I have to apologize for being such a doofus. I am really embarrassed. When I was talking with Nige I was showing him drawings I made in my journal as a preteen and it was fun at the time, but now I wish I hadn't. I guess I really am starved for conversation. If Nige, or any of you came over to my house I would probably take you all around showing you pictures, (probably all four of my photo albums) all my writing from when I was 10, my school awards. I will continue this later.

Friday, September 20, 2002

I was sooooooooooooooooo depressed today. Crying over everything. Feeling sorry for myself. I spoke with SPB. That was nice. I just have one thing to say, ICQ is terrible. It always boots me!

I went grocery shopping and that got me out of the slump. I felt pretty today, so that was good. Sometimes its nice to feel feminine. Anyway, I got home and my sprinklers turned on the second i started to cross the lawn, but instead of annoying me, it was funny. The BIG thing that happened was they called for another interview. NOT at a temp agency. It is this monday at 12pm. Soooooooo excited and hopeful. This job is even better because it will come with benefits and there is room for promotions!


depressed, happy, depressed, worried, excited. I HATE THIS ROLLERCOASTER LIFE....

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I went to the interview today. It was very disappointing. The interviewer, Melany, had a major crisis, and she needed things done...TODAY. (her words) So she was on the phone the first ten minutes I was there. I kept smiling and successfully stopped myself from fidgeting. I tried to appear oblivious to her rather...strong telephone conversations. When she got off the phone she introduced herself, and I introduced myself. I started the handshake, and I think she liked that. We walked to her office, and within one second the phone was ringing and she was having arguments and stressing out. I smiled sympathetically and another 5-10 minutes passed. She finally got off the phone and said, 'this is how things are around here.' She gave me a brief description of the job, and asked if I could work the hours they wanted. I said I could and that was all. I expected more, but she got right back on the phone. She told me they would call me back for a second interview if I was one of the people they liked. I don't hold much hope in that. How could she have liked me if she was so preoccupied?

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

It feels like I am starting my first day of school again. My clothes are all neatly laid out for tomorrow. There are butterflies in my stomach, and I sorely want my interviewers to like me. It all depends on me, and that pressure has always been hard to take. I want to give a good impression. I will try to be friendly, yet professional. If I can just get my mind and body to cooperate. I am having images of myself saying something stupid, or being unable to speak. *shakes head*

Now that the being employed full-time is in the picture again, I am saddened. These past few weeks with my children have been wonderful. They have bonded with me in a way that I hadn't felt in months. When I would go to work every day, I would see their affection for their caregiver, and feel envy and longing for their complete love and adoration. I hated leaving them, but now that I know them even more and have seen all the new things that they have learned, leaving them now will be like tearing off a limb.


My youngest son Eleazar was the most indifferent of my two boys. He was so close to my mother that he would turn to her for his needs. So if he were hungry, he would seek her out, if he was sleepy, he would look for her arms. It cut so deep when he turned away from me. But now he runs to me, and even gives me little kisses. He has learned to give me a high-five like my eldest son, Micael. I can't help crying now. It hurts so much.


Seeing them interact together was amazing as well. Amidst my worrying about their sibling rivalry, my little boys had become best friends. They chase each other, mimic each others voices, and they can't take a nap or go to sleep without the other. They have even started making plans. My eldest son grabs a box or his potty and helps my youngest son look out the window. Its like watching an episode of the Rug Rats. *smiles* As I laid them in bed tonight, and they snuggled close together, my heart filled with such a beautiful love. I may call them brats sometimes, even boogers, but they are as vital to me as breath.


*sigh*


So tomorrow I go and present myself to my prospective employers. It will be bittersweet if I get the job.



---Later that day ----



YAY! WOOP! I got an interview.

I called all the temp agencies where I had given my resume and application and asked them if they had any updates. They had just sent in my resume to a location that wanted someone full time from 11am-7pm. They took ten minutes to call the agency back and they want me to interview tomorrow. WOOP! I am so happy. Wish me luck, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee. I need this job.

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

I got a notice that my water is to be turned off. My mother is sending me $300 dollars, so that will help me pay my utilities. Depression central. I knew this would happen every month, but its disheartening to see the notices, and feel so helpless.

Update: We got the money together. (the 300 dollars still hasn't arrived) We borrowed from other people, and paid the water bill. One disaster averted. Its like jumping off a cliff and hitting a series of ledges. My husband found a temp job, and he starts tuesday night. I hope they find him something better. His first paycheck will be in two weeks, in time for the mortgage. When then again we wont have anything. *blah*


If you haven't noticed, i added my poetry link. The template for the page is all screwy, but thats for another late insomniatic night.

Monday, September 16, 2002

My mother-in-law (m.i.l) came for the weekend from Santa Maria, CA. She wanted to visit my sister-in-law, Lisa. Lisa didn't want to see her. Long story. Because of this, she had to spend the night in my home. From the moment that my m.i.l arrived in my house, she started cleaning. My house wasn't perfectly cleaned, but not dirty enough to warrant this woman's assault. My husband and I protested and told her to sit down, and we tried to wait on her, but it made no affect. She redid my whole kitchen, she swept and mopped, and lots of other little things, all to hurt me, and to make me feel useless.

Nothing I have ever done has been good enough for her. She takes her bitterness about her own failed marriage against me. When we lived with her, she was the same with, but she did it with a smile. A large condescending smile. Let me explain.


When my first son was born, we went to live with my m.i.l because we didn't have enough space in our studio. She let us live there. The whole time, my husband's grandmother spoke rudely to me under her breath. Calling me names, and my husband didn't believe me until my sister-in-law heard her and asked her to stop. It was hell. During this time, my m.i.l wouldn't say anything to the abuse, and said, oh, she is just an old woman. It didn't matter what it was, my m.i.l would have things to say to me, and my husband never said a word in my defense. To him, his mother is holy. Even when he sees that she is doing wrong, and I have him admit to me that she is doing something wrong, he won't tell her or call her on her error. He stays silent.


We moved out a few short months later. Then when my second son was born, we had to move in with her again, this time because we were waiting for a bigger apartment to become available. My husband's grandmother was worse this time. She wouldn't touch my children-her great grandchildren, and would openly ignore them. I wouldn't have minded so much if not for the fact that she gave so much love to her other great grandchildren. I would lay my son on the couch on top of his blanket, and if I would pick him up, she would walk up, and throw his blanket on the ground and say that it was taking up space. On a normal couch, I would concede to her, but this couch was one of those that wrap around two walls. They would walk into my room, which was suposed to be private and look through my things. I cried to both my mother in law and to her mother to stop treating me so meanly, but nothing changed. We moved out, and I was so relieved.


I don't understand how people can be this way. I had nothing to do with the fact that my mother had an affair with my father-in-law. I would change things if I could, but I will be forever branded as the daughter of the adultress, the homewrecker. I can still hear my husband's grandmother say, "tal la madre, tal la hija," which means, "like mother, like daughter."

Friday, September 13, 2002

Rain drops splattered on the side walk
fell on roof tops
chanced upon a fair maiden

Stealing glances with her reflection-
that fell upon a frozen lake-
the first few rain drops fell
down her long ,curling darkest hair
slid down the silkiest skin
curved around her fair breasts
trickled inbetween
lost its way amidst the thickest ........
danced past the sleeping petals
that lay folded,closed,undisturbed

As it made its way
dazed, full of love
down to her adorned ankles
and the curve that swept them down
to those kissable toes
and fell
heartbroken,
till passion awakened
the fair maiden
who picked up the fading rain drops
and with her lips
binded them for ever

That poem was written for me by an admirer a long time ago. In the early days of my internet usage I went online looking for pen-pals and I found J. We had been talking about literature and I am afraid I hurt him with my coldness. This was before I chatted. I kept the poem though, it is very lovely. I never took him seriously back then. He was just a bunch of letters on the screen. I was new at everything then. I honestly never flirted with my husband and certainly no other man in real life. I didn't know how to flirt with people. Its been more than a couple of years now, and I have dabbled in flirting, and sometimes beyond what is acceptable in my point of view. I am not sure where the line should be drawn.

Growing up, I had no feminine sense. I didn't care what I wore, how I looked, how tangled my hair was, or if my clothes even matched. I would see girls play coy with the boys and I would hear them talking about it. I never understood that they wanted the boys to like them, but they didn't want the boys to know how much so. I always thought that was wrong. Lisa, 14, was telling me that she was talking on the phone with her not-yet boyfriend. She casually told me that he had asked her out and she said no. She told me that she was going to wait a little while, play at being uninterested, then act like she was doing him a favor. I know I have spoken about this before, but where did she learn this? I feel like Meg Ryan in that movie, French Kiss, where Kevin Kline is explaining to her how the french women keep their men.

My libido has always been a problem for me. My sexual appetite is very large. My husband has been refusing me the last couple of days and that makes me very frustrated. (he says that all the sex makes him weak and that it prevents him from getting better) I am a hedonist, pure and simple. I love pleasure ,and I love giving pleasure. I don't consider myself a nymphomaniac though. (sidenote: that aught to get me a lot of hits on google..*giggles*) I can restrain myself, and I don't have the urge to go and "copulate" with other people. But this frustration makes me curious. How would making love with another man be like? I find myself wondering and then guilt sets in. Even if no one in the whole world thinks its bad to fantasize, I do. And my opinion of myself is the only one that matters.

So...what do I think of myself, and my musings and fantasies? I don't know. My husband wouldn't be any help with this question. He is happy that he gets sex everyday that he wants it, because he knows *I* will always want it. He has told me that he doesn't mind me cybering with other people, but that in itself feels wrong. I don't want permission. If he would forbid it, I wouldn't be so torn. (he just doesn't want to see it. Basically, I don't touch the computer if he wants my attention.)

So, its been more than 24 hours without any sex. That is not a lot time for many people, but for me, tis torture. *grrrr*