Annie waits for the last time (just the same as the last time)

I was all set to write something happy this morning. I wanted to focus on all the beautiful things in my life. But I still can't.
Thanks to all of you for your care and concern. It is certainly strengthening to hear that there are a lot of people out there concerned about my well-being and happiness. The prayers are what are getting me through, though I still feel like I'm hanging by a thread. This morning when I got on Facebook, I noticed that Ray deleted our friendship. It just about sent me over the edge... in a real way. I can't believe how much this is hurting me. It's not even that he doesn't want me as his girlfriend. It's that he doesn't want to acknowledge my existence. I don't know how I can love him so much and he can hate me with the same ardor.
And while I also, in a very small way, appreciate that so many people are willing to go to bat for me, let's still make this about me and not about him, ok? I think the way it went down was horrible and I still have to fight nearly every moment to not go off and do something drastic or dramatic, but all this ill-will toward him isn't doing any of us any good. It hurts me to think that he meant to act that way. I still can't believe he did it with malicious intent. I can almost guarantee that he ISN'T reading this anymore, just because I've seen him cut himself off from someone else. I hate that he'll nurse that ill-will in his heart until the thought of me makes him so angry that he'll say something about how he hopes I'm suffering. If he's already to that point, he's got his wish. Getting out of bed is a struggle. And you all may think that I'm a first-class idiot, but I'd do ANYTHING to fix it. Anything to have him back, even as a friend. Especially as a friend. I can barely breathe without him.

Taking a Hint

OK. I apparently didn't learn from Ghent the first time and had to be hit over the head with it. Not that Ray likely reads this anymore, but my apologies for airing our dirty laundry. I just need to get it out. Ray told me that he's happier without me in his life than with me.
Believe it or not, that feels worse than being told the thought of you makes a person want to vomit. It feels worse than hearing from Hunter that I had a great personality but wasn't physically attractive. It hurts worse because I love Ray. Ray does not love me. I am alone.
I really wish it were an awful nightmare and that I'd wake up. I wish I could count my blessings right now and appreciate that in the scheme of things, I have it better than most people. It would be nice if I weren't so fragile that I came crying to my parents' house, and instead were at home in my own bed, thinking about how much I love autumn instead of wondering what it is about me that is so repulsive to men everywhere. I wish I could have been gracious enough to let him go without having to hear what a loser I am. I wish I were in a position in my life where I were writing about my adorable children instead of knowing deep down that it probably won't happen for me. I wish I were myself again and could feel optimistic. But I can't. I wish I didn't have to take Tylenol PM so I could sleep, and I wish I were strong enough that being lonely wouldn't matter. And I wish I weren't so honest, because truthfully, this post will probably categorize me in each of your minds as feeble, vulnerable, and too crazy to be worthy of love. Or worse, it will generate pity as you each think and feel compelled to comment, "Don't worry Rach. You're worth more than that." Thank you if you were planning on it, but we all know it's not true. As the common denominator in all my failed relationships, I know I'm the problem. I don't know what God wants me to learn from all this, but I hope I figure it out soon. I'm broken from beating my head against the wall.

Quickie from your Favorite Renegade

So good news. I did manage to get the whole license fiasco cleared up. I'm no longer driving on a suspended license, so were I to get pulled over in Bosque Farms, for say, oh, I don't know... blasting some Erasure a little too loudly with the windows rolled down, I won't have an automatic ticket to jail. Although maybe I'd meet a nice guy in jail... Wait. I guess they separate male and female inmates. You know, I've always thought it would be cool to get arrested as a journalist for refusing to reveal a source or something, but I don't want it to be over anything that happens in the Village of Bosque Farms. They'll never get that kind of satisfaction.

Waffling: Hold the syrup

So I really need to do something that will turn the tide, stat, because it's only 9 a.m. and it already looks like it's going to be one of those days. Yep. Those. Meaning the kind where everything piles on and you can't seem to catch a break.
I got to work about 6:30 this morning. Fed the animals, cleaned up a bit (Mamar is under the weather-- I know that she must be feeling awful because my parents' bed wasn't even made, and my mom would never just leave it), started in with the paperwork. I started getting business calls around 7. Seriously. Who opens at 7? Oh wait. Apparently we do. I stubbed my toe. I've got this headache that seems to be concentrated about an inch and a half above my left ear. My dad's partner called to give me heck about a couple of bids I gave. While on the phone with a customer, I managed to smash my fingers between my desk chair and desk (quite the feat, considering the chair arms are a little worn because they rub against the bottom of the desk-- don't know how the fingers even fit) and I had to do my best to not start crying. Can you imagine? You call and ask to speak to accounts receivable and suddenly the person on the phone starts bawling? Definitely not cool. Typing hurts. And maybe it's because I woke up a bit on the wrong side of the bed after a little surprise emotional turmoil from last night just before I went to bed. I know I say this all the time, but I really need a vacation. But I have to wait to drive somewhere until I get word from the MVD. Maybe I should call them again?
The good news is, I'm busy. Having a lot to do typically keeps one from getting caught up in being really worried. Unfortunately, I've always been a multi-tasker, so I'm doing my fair share of analysis and hair pulling to accompany invoicing, payroll, and various other paperwork tasks. I had a thought last night about something I could do to help myself, but I'm a little worried about all the implications and consequences of such a course of action. I guess I've got a bit of time to waffle. Sorry. That's obscure and stupid sounding. But it's all I've got today.

Bits and Pieces

Still no word back from the Motor Vehicle Department. I'm really hoping this situation gets resolved soon. I don't like being a law-breaker, even a circumstantial one.

But in other news, AUTUMN IS HERE! I love that. I don't know that the weather today is particularly crisp, or how soon I'll start adding herbal tea back into my morning routine, but just knowing that the heat is behind me is excellent (note that I didn't say "summer is behind me," as I had a truly glorious summer).

A quick update: Remember that project of Ashely's for school? The recycled clothing fashion show? Well, here's what she and I came up with. It's less modest than I wanted (by a long-shot), but it's still kind of fun.

Here's a picture of the hair-do Ashley did, just food good measure (otherwise known as the best part of the outfit):

Anyway, I have a feeling that may be the end of my fashion-design career. Still, there are other things I can do. I had a lot of noble plans to make these cute jack'o'lantern ghosts this weekend, but I got a little side-tracked with other things. Other things meaning

Yeah. Ray was up this weekend (This is not a current picture, as you know... his hair is longer, and he's sporting some cowboy boots these days). We watched about a third of "Thoroughly Modern Millie." He's swell, just swell, by jingo! I miss him. I'm kicking around the idea of going for a visit to L.C. this weekend. But I don't want to impose. I only want to go if he really wants me there. I'm trying very hard to not be overbearing. I'll let you know. I'm glad we're friends. He's got some good skills.

And I suppose that's all. Work, work, work. Play, play, play. I'm back at the gym with a vengeance and pursuing some good projects. I've finally got a few solid ways to tie up some stories I've been working on, and I'm REALLY happy about that. I always know my characters well, but I never know what's going to happen to them. I'm glad they'll be getting some closure, even if I don't.

On my way to Political Extremism

My crazy story for the day: I was talking to the company's insurance provider and they said, "Hey, you're not on our schedule of drivers" so I gave the lady my D.O.B. and license #, telling her not to worry, that I've only had one ticket in my life. So she calls me this afternoon and tells me that I'm actually driving on a suspended license! Can you believe it? Apparently what happened is that when I got a citation a year ago for a burnt-out light over my license plate (and how would I ever know about that? It's not like I'm ever following my own car!), the people at the police department failed to file my dismissal after I got it fixed. The thing that galls me is that it happened in this little speed trap of a town where they literally pull you over for ANYTHING to make ticket quota. That same police department issued me a summons a year ago when they didn't file a different dismissal (these citations often come when I go through the sobriety checkpoints on any given weekend... I'm never drinking, but they'll be happy to pull me over and give me a written warning for the crack in my windshield that's not obstructing my vision!). So now I have to go to the MVD, and the only people dumber than the Bosque Farms Police clerical staff are those who work for the motor vehicle division. Ugh. I'm so mad! Can you tell? It's just a matter of time before I start getting really militant and slap one of those "Less Government, More Freedom" bumper stickers on my minivan and join the NRA.

Boggle

Well, I'm exhausted. That's not too interesting, I know, but it's been a couple of "those" days, ya know? My little sis is in angry-bride mode, really making me consider eloping someday. I've been going through a lot of extra laundry because of things like pumpkin bisque exploding out of my mom's fridge yesterday and her trash leaking an interesting an oozy white goo when I took it out this morning. Add to that the fact that my adorable (and extremely messy) niece is here today, so as usual I'm covered in baby junk. Ahh. A bubble bath sounds pretty good right now.
Truthfully, I don't have much to report. I spent a revitalizing weekend in Colorado Springs with my mom and a friend of ours, and the creative juices are surging more powerfully than ever, though I just don't have time to tackle any new projects (plus, I've got dozens of old projects that need finishing first). My friend (that's code for Ray) is coming up for a visit this weekend, and I'm stoked. Andrew sadly shaved his mustache, which weighs heavily on my heart. David got locked out of his car last night and wasn't too happy through the whole brouhaha, especially when his adorable new roommie Adam mistakenly (it was all very Freudian) asked D to borrow his keys. I have a business dinner tonight. I need a nap. You see? It's all par for the course. My life remains a jumble.

Lady and the Tramp Art

I'm magnetized. I'm riveted. I'm in motion and powerful and creating buzz. At least in my own life, if not in the lives of others. But I feel the energy.

One thing I'm looking forward to is the much-anticipated release of a film based on my all-time favorite book series. And no, I'm not talking about "Twilight," though you can bet I'll be standing in line with all the women of America to see it opening night. I don't know why I didn't know about it before, but coming soon (not soon enough, actually) to a theatre near you:

Yes, folks. That's right. Georgia Nicolson is hitting the big screen. It's already been released in the UK and though there's not an exact release date for us Yanks just yet, I know it's coming. Of course, by the time it does hit theatres, I'll be nearly 28-- twice the age of Georgia's character, but what do I care? And for the record, I'm so on team Dave the Laugh. Robbie is passable. Massimo is ridiculous.

OK, now, on to things that actually mean something to those of you not obsessed as I am with Brit Teen Lit.

I have a new project. I know that I don't have time to do this, but I simply don't care. I'm already mentally on board, so there's really no stopping me. My little sister, as you know, is in cosmetology school. One of her upcoming requirements is to do hair and makeup for a model in this charity fashion show where all the models wear things made out of trash. Pretty cool, right? Well, apparently Ashley and the other students are supposed to DRESS their models as well... as in make their clothes. They don't get any credit for it, nor do they get any budget for materials. Ash is kind of limited on time (not that I'm just lounging around all day), so I think I'm going to make the outfit for the girl. I'm stoked. I only have a few days to do it. Actually, I may only have time tonight, as I'm rather full up with activity for the rest of the week. I've got a few ideas for some kick-a, punk-inspired stuff (I have this book that shows you how to make a dress out of old t-shirts, though that may be even a little more labor-intensive than I'd planned on), and I've got this vision of using old shopping bags and soda cans for all the ditzing and glamorizing. Just call me Stella McCartney. Well, definitely not. This may turn out to be a disaster, but what do I have to lose except some old thrift store t-shirts and a couple hours of my time, right? Even though it's not even my project, I'm stoked that it combines several things I love: fashion, do-it-yourself, and re-purposing old trash into new treasure. So wish me luck. I have to work on this between mowing the lawn and going to the gym tonight. I'd love a nap, but if my college days were any indication, I work better on adrenaline anyway.

I spoke too soon

Bridezilla is back with a vengeance. Heaven help me, I've got to go find a Maid of Honor dress this afternoon.
On the bright side, I did remember another funny something that made me happy. I once told a friend that he reminded me of a celebrity. He said, "Oh, I know. I get that all the time. Matthew McCoughnahey, right?" And I said, "No, actually I was thinking Christopher Lloyd."

EVOO

Anyone who thinks I don't censor myself would be quite surprised. I just deleted a paragraph of tirade. It wasn't so much to protect the object of my disdain (who, by the way, is someone in my life who falls into the category of "Wow, I really dodged a bullet by not marrying that one"-- and also, so there isn't any confusion, is someone from the distant past, lest there are any assumptions or misunderstandings that my goodwill toward the current people in my sphere of friendship has somehow been tarnished or lessened), but more to not prove him right by using my little forum as a platform for verbal assault. Wow. If you can actually hear my voice as you just read that run-on, you'll know again that I was way too influenced by the fast-paced, sometimes nonsensical dialogue on "Gilmore Girls."
Anyway.
I have some good things to report. Call them happiness droplets. Call them tender mercies. Call them whatever you like, it doesn't matter. I'm smiling more often than not these days, and it feels good.
This weekend, Terry and Meilea came up for a visit. I hardly got to spend any time at all with them, but they are so wonderful. Mel brought me the most amazing flowers-- I ought to take a picture and post it here. Take note, o boyfriends current and future: I love all flowers! Want to get in my good graces? Have a social cause and wear Chuck Taylors. But if you don't have time for that, or you just want to give yourself the extra edge, send flowers. Look up my work address online and have them delivered to my office. I love all flowers, except red roses. Those basically say, "I have no imagination whatsoever." Mel gave me a wonderful arrangement of sunflowers and snap dragons. It was PERFECT. Every time I see them, I think about what wonderful people Mel and Terry are, and how grateful I am to have them in my life.
Another thing to be happy about: As many of you know, my little sis is getting married in a few months. I'm stoked about it. I love my future brother-in-law and I'm sure they'll have a great life together. And I don't want to jump the gun and make any announcements on their behalf, but let's just say that they've changed their minds about a few of their wedding details and I couldn't be happier. Plus, sister seems to be coming off her recent Bridezilla episode and has returned to the lovely girl I know well. We may go get her veil today.
Another thing that made me laugh recently: Remember that guy who came over to my house and berated my hometown (among other things)? He called on Saturday night and wants me to go with him looking for houses in Los Lunas! I'm going to do it, of course, because even though he treated me like Ghent #2 at the time, I am willing to offer an olive-branch of friendship. But you can bet I won't be making him any more of those light-my-mom's-house-on-fire brownies to welcome him to the neighborhood.
Speaking of olive branches, I sent an olive tree to Las Cruces this weekend. I hope it gets planted and grows. I don't have much of a green thumb, but I'm trying to cultivate that talent.
Finally, tonight I'm going to the State Fair. Ashley and Robert went and saw the world's smallest woman (aka The Little Lady from Haiti). Sister said she felt bad paying a dollar to look at someone just because she is 2'4". It does seem sad, but sometimes I wish I were a carni. I guess I'll content myself with seeking out the Polish boys at the photo booths and eating a snow cone.