Me As A Convict

So a while back I had posted about my awful driver's license picture where I look I am in Taylor County Jail. There has finally been enough time for me me to get over the trauma and humiliation of that picture so I am now ready to post it.

Here it is in all it's glory.

Month of Anniversaries

August is a month of anniversaries for me. One sad, one weird, and one good.

The sad one is the anniversary of my father's death. He died eight years ago about 5 weeks before I was supposed to be married to a huge jerk. (obviously that whole thing didn't happen). I am still unclear of the exact causes of death. I found out he was sick at the same I found out he was dying. My father and I were never particularly close; he was more close with my brother and my sister. I think I scared him a little being so rebellious and wild. He didn't know how to talk to me. I remember he tried to talk to me one time about my boyfriend. He said, "You don't want to end up in the same situation as your sister." At the time, I was thinking "What? End up with a beautiful daughter and my own apartment?" (that was pretty much the extent of my goals back then) His death affected more than his life did. Weird how that works.

The weird one is the anniversary for my mom's latest marriage. Which, I have to say, is her longest one yet. The weird part is that my mom has a wife. Yes, that's right my Mother is an official lesbian. No, it's not sexy like the movies portray. She came out in '99, shortly after my father's death in fact. Although, I kinda had feeling about her "orientation" for a while. I would say I started suspecting when I accidentally played a certain videotape.... At first, I thought it was a phase or something. But 8 years and one Commitment Ceremony later, I am starting to think this is going to stick. My mom's wife is the best 'partner' so far. The men my mom dated then married were jerks. They were unemployed jerks. They were unhygenic unemployed jerks. But my step-mom (sm) now takes care of my mother. Not only does she take care of her, she spoils my mother. SM owns her own business, has her own vehicle, and seriously loves my mom. My mom can be very difficult at times and, when upset, can say or do hurtful things. So the number one question is how does this line up with my faith??? I have no idea. I am still trying to figure how I feel about it. I mean, I can say I think homosexuality is wrong and God is going to smite all gays. But, I mean, c'mon. It's my mom. She birthed me! How can I tell the woman who gave me life that she's an abomination? My mom and SM aren't weird or abnormal. They love, argue, care, disagree just like any other married couple, they just happen to be of the same sex. So, there's that anniversary.

The good anniversary is the One Year Anniversary of me working at the Church!!! Yay me! I actually made it! The job has helped me grow in so many ways. In maturity, faith, knowledge, skills, confidence, (bank account), and love. I have learned not to give up. This is the first time I stayed when things got hard. My prior M.O. is to just run away and hide from my problems. Just to say, they always came back.

GodTube

I don't know if anyone else already knows about this site. A friend of mine sent me a link to it today. It's godtube.com She sent me a link to one of the videos on there. It is really awesome. I hope everyone goes checks it out. It reminds me a lot of what some of the KLF Youth did last Hallelujah Night in the funeral house.

Xander & Kalista

This is Kalista climbing the walls in our hallway with Xander standing underneath her rocking his new Mohawk.

There's a Reason

Last week, my kids stayed the night with my sister. I was relaxing on the couch reading a good book enjoying the quiet when Marcos called. He called from a payphone since his phone had been turned off for the third time this year so it was little hard to understand him. He told me that he wanted to let me know that he won’t be living at his apartment anymore because he was getting evicted in three days for not paying his rent. He was also telling me about some of his other problems that he’s been having. His first daughter was supposed to move in with him since her mother has returned to drugs but now she can’t because of the homeless thing. His girlfriend just had surgery for the second time the day before because she has cancer on her face. His girlfriend’s family doesn’t like him. He doesn’t have anywhere to move to or a place to store his stuff.

All I wanted to do was help him, to take care of him, to make it okay. I offered to help him in anyway I could. I told him he could use my storage building, he could use my Aztek and trailer to move his things, I would help him find somewhere to live, or he could stay at my house until he could find something. I just had a hundred solutions to help him with his problems but none for my own. He said he would call me the next day to let me know what he needed.

Next day, he called and I took the kids over to see him at his apartment. I don’t ever go inside or even up to his door because I am still too scared/insecure/tender to meet his girlfriend. So he came outside and talked to me for almost an hour at my car. He told me that he still feels the same way about me, that his love for me wouldn’t ever go away. That he did miss our family. He said he was tired of living the way he was. I tried to tell him so many things without saying what I really wanted to say. I went home with hope and sadness in my heart. I prayed for God to show Marcos what he could have. I knew, though, he wouldn’t, but I still hoped.

He called again the next day while I was at work. I asked him if he figured anything out yet and when he will need me to help him. He said “Oh, I found a trailer for us to move into so I don’t need anything. Can I talk to the kids now?”

By this time, I had already told Amanda and Eric (probably closest thing I have to a best friend besides Amanda) what was going on. They had tried to gently caution me about hoping but I kept thinking God will take care of it. After getting off the phone, I just sat there. Eric held me for a few minutes while I cried. He tried really hard to comfort me. I thought, “Well, at least I know for sure now.”

For the next few days, when Marcos would call I would just let the kids answer right away or not answer at all if they weren’t there. Then Tuesday of this week, he called and then told Kalista to give me the phone.

Me: Hello?
Marcos: Hey, are you mad at me or something?
Me: No, why?
Marcos: I was just wondering because you weren’t talking to me and you wouldn’t say anything when I called. I thought I f**ed up again or something.
Me: No, everything is fine.
Marcos: Well, hey, do you think you could help me move my stuff tomorrow?
Me: …….
Marcos: You know, ‘cause you said you could use a trailer to move my things…
Me: Um, yeah…sure. Okay, yeah. Um, allright. Okay…What do you need me to do?

I was shocked that he would still call me and ask for help. But he said that no one else would be there to help him move. I was really nervous about helping him. I knew that Amanda would be mad at me (she was. She didn’t talk to me for like 10 minutes) and Eric would be upset with me also. I prayed for protection around my heart, for things to be good (whatever that means). I wanted so desperately for him to see that I was worth it. I wanted him to just see me.

Next day he comes to my work and we leave to get the trailer from Eric’s house. Two hours later and one trip to Abilene U-haul just in time for them to say sorry we’re closed I finally borrow my friend’s SUV that has a hitch to fit the trailer and we’re off to his apartment in Abilene. We get there and I am feeling EXTREMELY uncomfortable. I didn’t want to go inside his apartment where they had their life. He keeps reassuring me that it is fine if I go, so finally I get out of the car and go. I was screaming inside my head that this wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be here. I just stood there looking at all of their stuff, things I never would have had in my house. Tacky mirrors (those gotta be a must-have with all Mexicans), dollar store paintings, pink everything, pool table, fake gold lamps. The kitchen had bags and bags of trash sitting on the floor, the counters, hanging from the wall. There was a rotting watermelon in the sink. It was so weird being there. I thought to myself, “There’s a reason why people don’t get to see what it’s like when ex’s move on. There’s a reason and this is it.” Then a couple who used to be our friends and are now their friends came over to help him. Very awkward. What are you supposed to say to people who only knew you as part of something that doesn’t exist anymore and now are friends with the “replacement”? I couldn’t stand any longer so I said I was going to get something to eat for the kids while they moved everything into the trailer.

I prayed the whole way to McDonald’s and back for stability, maturity, and protection. Everything was so surreal by this point. I kept thinking, “How did I get myself into moving my ex and his girlfriend? This is nearing Jerry Springer level.”

When I got back, we hooked the trailer back up to the SUV and drove it over the storage building place. Here is another kind of weird thing about this whole thing: Marcos and his gf are moving into the same motel (I guess the trailer thing fell through) that Amanda used to live in and they’re storage is at the same one Amanda & I had. What a coincidence.

When we were at the apartment I didn’t help move anything at all. I just thought it was a little beyond my capability at the time. But when we got to the storage place, I felt bad that he had to move everything by himself so I helped him put everything except their clothes into the storage room. I had to draw the line somewhere and it was evidently at touching her unmentionables. By the time we got done, it was about 11 pm and I was very ready to go home.

On the way home, I tried talking to Marcos about everything.

Me: There is a better way to live.
Him: What do you mean?
Me: I mean the life you’re leading. You don’t have to worry about getting evicted, you don’t have to worry about your phoned getting turned off, or whether you’re going to eat that day, or when you’re going to see your kids again. Life wasn’t meant to be this hard to just live. There’s so much out there you could have. You could have a house, a good life.
Him: That isn’t meant for me. I’m paying for the things I’ve done, for the choices I’ve made.
Me: Marcos, there’s forgiveness…

When we get to my house, he comes inside to help me with kids. He says, “Thank you for helping me with all this. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything if you hadn’t helped. Really, thank you.” I just say, “Sure. It’s what I’m here for.” He comes closer to give me a hug and my body freezes up. I feel scared that he’s going to touch me. He does. All I could think was, “Soft. Nice. Don’t hurt me.” He then says, “Gina says ‘Thank you’ too. She really appreciates you helping us.” I felt like he punched me in my stomach. I tried to mumble something about that’s great and good bye.

I closed the door after him, locked it, then threw my keys at the wall. I wanted to scream; I took a shower instead. I made it as hot as I could stand. I let the burning water roll over me as I stood there and cried. I cried out to God.

After I got out of the shower, I looked in the Bible to find something that would comfort me and make me feel a little bit better. Of course, I found something in the first verse I found.

This is it:

2 Chronicles 20:14-20 "14Then the Spirit of the LORD came upon Jahaziel son of Zechariah, the son of Benaiah, the son of Jeiel, the son of Mattaniah, a Levite and descendant of Asaph, as he stood in the assembly.

15 He said: "Listen, King Jehoshaphat and all who live in Judah and Jerusalem! This is what the LORD says to you: 'Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God's. 16 Tomorrow march down against them. They will be climbing up by the Pass of Ziz, and you will find them at the end of the gorge in the Desert of Jeruel. 17 You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you.' "

18 Jehoshaphat bowed with his face to the ground, and all the people of Judah and Jerusalem fell down in worship before the LORD. 19 Then some Levites from the Kohathites and Korahites stood up and praised the LORD, the God of Israel, with very loud voice.

20 Early in the morning they left for the Desert of Tekoa. As they set out, Jehoshaphat stood and said, "Listen to me, Judah and people of Jerusalem! Have faith in the LORD your God and you will be upheld; have faith in his prophets and you will be successful."

I know that the scripture is talking about a people who are about to come up against a huge army but the basis of it spoke to my heart. I wasn't facing a literal army but I was facing a huge heartache and vast disbelief in the things God has for me. It said to not be afraid because God will be with me when I come against all those things that are trying to break me. It tells me that this isn't even my battle to fight; that it is my Father's!

Lima Beans & Peach Cobbler

This use to be a very popular phrase. Well, probably not anywhere else but my home when I was in Jr. & High school. Amanda will know what I am talking about here. We use to have a stepfather who was a jerk. You know the stereo-typical stepfather that is in the movies who are mean to their wife's children? I think those stereotypes were actually based off of this man. When he would get mad at me, he would take the family to eat at restaurants but make me stay in the car while they ate inside. Or he would take my brother and sister shopping for shoes or clothes but make me stay home by myself while they went out. My brother has a slight learning disability from when he almost drowned when he was about 6 or 7 and didn't get oxygen to his brain for about 2 minutes. In jr. high when my brother was having a hard time reading his school books or homework, said step-father would yell at my brother telling him that he was stupid, dumb, or a fuck up. I moved to El Paso with my aunt for a while in my Junior year in high school because he hit me. When I came home one time during Christmas he made my mom take me to work with her where I would have to sit inside her car for her 12-hour shift. I am pretty sure that most of my issues with men stem from him. Anyway, the whole point is that he always had some whacked out catch phrase he would be continuously spitting out. He had many. For example: "You danced the dance, now it's time to play the fiddle" or "You're going to Midland because you're lying". Can anyone figure those out? I never did. Well, another one of his phrases was "You have to eat your lima beans before you can have your peach cobbler." Which, the way I understood it to be, means that we had to do the stuff we dont like (like homework, chores, etc) before we could do something we like (like talking on the phone or watching t.v.). This is one of the times that what he was trying to say actually made sense.

So, anyway, all that to say I want to start having this kind of mentality with organizing things in my life. My laundry usually piles up until I don't have any surface in my kitchen to put anything on. Now I dont really mind doing the actual laundry, I just hate putting it away. So for weeks my kids and I will get our clothes in the morning from the kitchen to get dressed. Anyway! I am going to start bribing myself to get my chores done. I can't read or watch a movie until I put away my clothes or wash the dishes or vaccummed or etc. Why am I blogging about this? No clue. Maybe to make it more tangible or for accountability reasons.

So You Think You Can Dance

Kalista and Xander REALLY love to dance. They will dance to any kind of music; country, pop, rock, techno, whatever. They get really into it. The other night the credit music was playing from one of the movies we just got done watching and they were jumping around, swirling, girating-doing all their usual moves. Just when Kalista was busting out her best moves, she accidentally punched herself in the face! I laughed for so long. These are the moments I love the most.

P.S. No children were seriously injured in the story of this blog.

PMS is from the Devil!

Well, obviously you can tell what is on my mind right now. I really do believe with all my heart that PMS is from the devil. At least I feel like I have been possessed by some demon every month. What is the deal?? My face breaks out with pimples so big and numerous they interrupt the moon's gravitational pull on the ocean's waves! I have mood swings that rival those of the girl who spews pea soup in The Exorcist. And I am a perpetual bottomless pit of junk food. I think it should it should be a law where every man should have to live as a woman for at least a week, and preferably during that time of month too!