BRAS.

I have got to get some better bras.  The one I have on right now is pink and  it's all right I guess, but it squeaks everytime I move my left arm.  I'm left handed.  Same with underwear. I have only 3 nice pairs?  Come on.  That's embarrasing.  I mean, let's face it, at this point no one sees any of this stuff but me, but, I'm sure it would make me feel a little more on the market just knowing that I'm not a total slob underneath it all.  But everytime I walk by the lingerie shops in the mall, I get a little frustrated.  All of the girls (lets face it, they ARE girls in the ads in the windows) don't look like me.  It's way too much.  I never stand like that! I'm never in my underwear, one leg on a chair, hair all messy looking out a window in Tuscany.  I'm running around trying to get out the door of my place while spilling coffee on myself.  Don't get me wrong, I've bought into it before.  And it's not comfortable.  Lace bras are a rip off.  You can never wear them, and they make your boobs itchy. RIP OFF.  Actually most of it's like that.  Now, the beige bra.  Now THAT'S practical.  Too bad it IS the ugliest thing on the planet ON and OFF the female body. It's true. Ain't nothing sexy about beige.  I' guess I'll be hitting up Bay Days.  Watch out discounted and amazingly practical bras...here I come!  I guess I shall remain single for a while.

Serenity Now.

It's very hard sometimes to be happy for someone who has, well, let's face it....taken everything from you.  Financially and emotionally.  But, I think that I have done a pretty good job, thus far. But sometimes I tell ya...SOMETIMES!  This blog is going to be short.  It's fair to say that I have had  a fabulously succesful day.  On the other end of things, I feel like I might want to throw something at a wall.  I"m not going to go into details, but someone I know is graduating from Monday and needs me to babysit so that he can partake in the post -graduation festivities.

GOD.  DAMN. 

Another Day, Another Self-Help Book

I admit it.  I read 'em. All of them.  Self help books are not only on my book shelf, they're in my bathroom, in my car, my purse.  If you didn't know me, you might think that I'm a real whack job with deep emotional problems.  I'm not.  Yikes. I hope I'm not.  But I read them to keep in check. At this age, if you can't start addressing any of your problems, well, then the rest is your fault.  There does come a time when it IS your responsibility and not your parents....who are sick of  having to say sorry for the 10,000th time. Look around, EVERYONE is slightly messed up. It's OK.  It's the human condition.  It's how you react to life that matters.  I chose to be happy and not miserable.  This is not to say that sometimes I don't enjoy a bit of misery.  That's when the books get cracked open.  So that I can reset and not wallow in momentary self-pity. 
So, don't be afraid!  March up to the self-help section and grab a few!  And use them as back-up happiness when you're feeling the craps.  Post sticky notes on your mirrors....tell yourself how great you are and that you can do it!  (just take them down before company comes.....I learned that lesson the hard way)
Here's a book I love!

 

Getting Back In the Game

Now that I am a 'free agent' again, I kind of have to get back in the game.  Does this mean I have to actively shave my legs more?  CRAP.  I guess I'll start having to make sure that I look good at ALL times now, and not just on special occasions.  So the other day I went shopping to a store that I have always liked at the mall. I swear, I have been shopping there for twenty years.  As usual I found a bunch of stuff that I liked and wanted to try on. OH GOD.  It did not turn out good.  Here's the thing.  I  had a defining moment in that tiny change room.  After turning around in this short skirt and bright tight pink top I realized that maybe my favourite shop of two decades, could no longer be my favourite shop.  I had crossed some kind of a threshold.  These clothes looked ridiculous on me!  You know when you see that 45 year old cougar walking down the street in white vinyl boots, and frosty lip gloss?  I looked like a version of THAT woman. Nope.  I have turned a page in the age-appropriate fashion book.  What's going to happen to all my cutesy t-shirts I have with things like Fruit loops on them or Strawberry Shortcake?    Don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean I am going to start shopping at Northern Reflections where I can easily pick up a practical pair of comfortable slacks and pair it with a 'safe' shoe.  No thanks.  Just won't be wearing the hooker boots anymore.  Only on very special occasions.  wink.

PS.  That is not a picture of me.  lol. 

The Purge.

Man, my place is quiet.  Since it's just me for the most part these days, and my girl a few days a week, it is so empty.  It's weird!
 For the past month I have been non stop cleaning, purging, and organizing.  It's almost as though I'm cleansing.  No, it IS as though I'm cleansing judging by the amount of vinegar-water I have sprayed everywhere.  It's true.  My floors haven't been this clean in years.
It happens naturally I think when you have a huge life shift. You  feel the need to change your surroundings.  To get behind the dresser and clean it.  To empty out the closet, throw out stuff and  move things around! 
And then sometimes you stop and look in the mirror as you wash the gunk off your hands in the bathroom and say, 'What happened here again?'  'What am I doing?'  "This is my new life?' And that's when I take a few seconds to digest everything again.  And know that life works in mysterious ways. There is a silver lining to everything.  For example, I dropped my tweezers in the toilet this morning morning.  Normally I would have silently cursed.  But, it was just me so I yelled  'S**T' really loud.  See? There's always light behind the clouds.

Here's the rub.

Ok, so I'll just come out and say it.  I'm single now. It happened about a month ago.  A couple of  days after his last exam, he told me he didn't love me anymore and that he was leaving. Just like that.
 I knew things hadn't perfect, but I guess I was willing to put up with the way it was existing.
  In hindsight our relationship had been slipping for some time.  Life gets in the way, people grow apart and change and before you know it you're avoiding the person. You don't even know who they are any more. You literally don't recognize them.  But, this happens.  Was I devastated?  Yes. But was I surprised?  No.
It would have happened eventually in a few years when he got his second degree and got a job.
  We're signing the separation papers this week.   It's all done. Seven years. Joint custody and a handshake and see ya later.
Life is funny. Here's the thing....be careful what you wish for, because it just might come true. 
So?  Now what, you ask?  (or maybe you didn't) Well, I've picked my self up, dusted myself off,  and re-decorated.
I'm ready to turn 40 and see what life as a newly-single-working-mom feels like.  Care to come along for the ride?
I'll be blogging about my thoughts, trials and tribulations and possibly future dating adventures.
You can be a fly on the wall.  On my newly painted kitchen wall actually.

xo kerr

Halloween is for ladies.

When I was a kid, I had really busy parents.  My mom in particular was always on the go and sometimes, let's face it, she let things slip.  Not the important stuff like food or shelter, but things like Halloween costumes. I can remember for a good while I was the SAME thing for Halloween.  Here's how it would go.  My mom would get home from work, dad would be on his way. Then I'd say...." MOM! It's HALLOWEEN!!!'  It's a good thing that I never cared what I was going to dress up as, otherwise this might have ruined my life.  My mom would get this look on her face.  'OH, RIGHT!!! YES! Halloween!  Great!  "Ok, so, what do you want to be?" ' I would say, " Mom, I have like, 10 minutes before I go trick-or-treating with my friends"  No problem.    Out came the wig and lipstick fro mthe closet.
  I was a 'LADY' for 6 straight years.  Punch in the word LADIES for 1000 points.
love ya
kerr.