How to Not Be a Doormat, By a Doormat...

I'm not the type to usually give advise.  I'm more of a listener.  I believe what I've got to say and share from past experiences could benefit those out there who may be on shaky ground in a relationship or even those considering jumping back into the water.  I'm not trying to be a downer here, just merely pointing out mistakes I have made in the past and perhaps from a different angle, give perspective on what to avoid, what to duck and dive from.

I guess the biggest point I can speak to is never give more than you get.  Yes, I am the queen of all doormats!  I supported a man who I promised to love, cherish...blah blah blah for longer than I care to remember.  Finally, the doormat got worn down and needed to have a life of her own to enjoy and be happy.  I was so worried that I couldn't do it on my own, and what for?  I already was doing it on my own!  I guess if that person isn't willing and able to give you all the things you are willing and able to give them, a relationship is probably not a good idea as it will not survive, unless one or both of you are perfectly content to be an unhappy doormat.  And honestly, who wants to be walked all over in life?

I won't lie.  Being alone can be tough, more so emotionally in most cases than financially.  Once I got out on my own, my eyes were opened to a whole new world!  I was only responsible for me! (And my cat.)  I could save my own money!  I could pay my bills on time!  Those 2 things alone gave me such a good feeling about myself.  So, again, I'd say if you can't meet those 2 goals while in a relationship, there is a possibility for some trouble.  Being a couple is hard enough without that extra hassle!

I hope I don't sound bitter.  Remember, this is the glass half full girl.  I am not giving up on finding someone who knows me as well as I know myself and likes me in spite of that!  Heck, maybe they will even love me!  Stranger things have been known to happen.  The one great relationship of my life lasted about 3 1/2 years with someone who wasn't even in the country.  Perhaps that had something to do with why it was great?  I hope not.  I am reminded of a scene from one of my favorite guilty pleasure movies, "The Cutting Edge" where Kate tells Doug that her fiance', Hale is working in her father's London office.  Doug then replies with a snarky grin that she must look awfully good from 3,000 miles away.  Perhaps that's how it did stay alive so long.  There is something exciting about counting down the days until you next see someone, meeting them at the airport and planning a fun-filled stay until you have to tearfully say goodbye for another 6 months, when you will see them again.  The in-between time is not so much fun, but you make the best of it.  I still think that it could have worked if circumstances had been slightly different...glass half full.

After my near trip to the mental ward and a stint on anti-depressants, I took some time for me again and spent loads of time with my family.  Poured myself into work.  And after a year or so, I decided (for some reason) it was time to test the waters.  Maybe I was just lonely.  I went right back to my doormat status, willingly!  Once again, I ended up taking care of another man who was nearly a carbon copy of my ex-husband.  I even saw it in the beginning.  I even said so.  But when you tell someone they behave just like your ex, they tend to stomp their feet and get belligerent about it.  So, you start to question yourself and your observations.  Stop right there!  Don't question yourself!  You know you!  Run!  Run fast.  Get the hell outta Dodge.  If not, you are setting yourself up for massive failure.  If that person is worth anything, they will run after you and prove to you they are not what you say they are.  They will prove it to you if they care enough about you.  By the way, if you find that person, good for you.  You are one of the lucky ones.  I, unfortunately, was not.  I spent over 3 years as a doormat once again.  Supporting a man, who I felt obligated to support since he fought for our country.  I feel strongly for our soldiers.  I have family who have turned their lives upside down to protect us all.  I am proud of them.  I don't believe they get enough in return for what they give.  However, respect is a 2-way street and while I gave much respect for what he had done over there, he just took and took and took from me.  As above, there is only so much a doormat can take.  When someone steals from you, who lives under your roof, the trust is gone.  Whether it's taking your credit card without your knowledge to purchase something they could afford if they'd get off their lazy ass and get a job or it's allowing you to pay for everything and promise they will make it up to you when they get a job, somewhere along the line, respect is gone.  Respect is a dead end at that point and things are never going to recover.

So, learn from me.  Read my mistakes and laugh.  Yeah I've been dumb, a lot.  But learn a lesson here.  Or you will be the one paying for a lawyer on your own to file for divorce.  You will be the one trying to pull yourself out from under debt that you would have never accumulated on your own.  Avoid the heartache.  Earn and give trust and respect and want to get to know all there is to know about that person and like what you know.  Otherwise, we'll be seeing you at the next coronation of the doormats.  I'll save you a throne, heck, maybe you can even have mine!

Music Triggered Memories...

I'm groggy... It's an ungodly hour, what is that noise?  I attempt to open my eyes, realizing the lamp is still lit, but the sun is starting to creep up.  I listen closer, it's Iris by Goo Goo Dolls.  I sit up and realize, he told me this song reminds him of us.  I turn to my left and see him all snuggled up in the comforter.  So cute and so sleepy.  He only got here a couple of days ago and I'm sure he's still jet-lagged.  The music gets louder as it's the alarm on his laptop which he left on last night.  I smile, run to the desk and turn off the alarm.  He never even heard it or felt me get out of the king size bed.  We arrived at the upstate NY casino yesterday afternoon.  It seemed kinda busy with a big buzz going on.  I find my robe and peek out our 3rd floor window to see a couple posing for their wedding pictures.  Oh yeah, today is 07/07/07, tons of superstitious fools are getting married because they think it's their lucky day.  I look over my shoulder and wonder if he will one day ask me.  I'm in no hurry, but what if?  We just click so well together.  I can't imagine life without him.  We enjoy a lot of the same things.  We have so much planned this trip.  I want to enjoy every moment to the fullest.  Including this one, watching him sleep, his long, dark, beautiful eyelashes and freckles that he says are a British curse, but I think are so amazingly adorable.  Last night we went to a concert downstairs in the Casino.  It was one of our favorite bands.  He completed my collection of their CDs the second time I went to see him, with a rare, unavailable one he got from the guitar player the last time they had come to his town.

I laugh as I remember the couple on the elevator with us last night.  The chick was drunk out of her mind.  They jumped on after us and she giggled at us and pointed and said, you two look like twins!  I looked down and realized we were both wearing black t-shirts and he had on camo shorts and I had a camo mini skirt on.  I guess she was right.  We just stared at her until they got off.  He was fighting to stay awake.  The 5 hour time difference wearing on him at this hour of the night.

We got back to the hotel room and immediately locked the door behind us.  He grabbed me and we were kissing, like we needed each other to breathe, to survive.

I'm dreading the drive back to PA today, but at least I know he will be right next to me, holding my hand.  I won't be alone on this trip.  I absolutely love it when he's here.  Life is as it should be.  I'm completely happy and nothing can ruin my mood.  Not even my Dad who refuses to meet him, because 'it's just wrong.'  If only he could see how happy I am when I'm with him, maybe he'd change his mind.  But he won't even meet him...

We have plans to go to the big fireworks show tonight.  We went to it last year when he was here and I have to admit, I can't wait.  I may be old-fashioned, but I love having someone snuggled up in an old blanket with me watching the show.   When we get back to my apartment we plan to just relax and watch Live 8 on TV, maybe get a pizza and chill out until it's time to go pick a spot to watch the midnight fireworks.  I know we will walk hand in hand and as small a thing as it seems, it makes my heart jump.

I crawl back into bed next to him and kiss this cute little wrinkle he has on his forehead.  He seriously should not have wrinkles yet at his age.  Maybe it's because he lives next to the sea, or maybe he just worries a lot.  He opens those beautiful blue eyes and smiles back at me.  This is another one of those moments.  Life is amazing and so his he.

Ok...it's March 21, 2012.  Iris just started playing on my computer.  I'm smiling and crying at the same time.   Every time I hear this song, this is the memory I have.  When life was great and I was amazingly happy.  I know things ended for a reason.  I know they had to.  Glass half-full me really hopes I get another shot at feeling that 'on top of the world' feeling again.  But even if I don't, I felt it once and I was so lucky.  Thank you, Kevin, wherever you are.

Baggage Claim

I turned 40 last week.  How did that happen?  I remember my 30th birthday like it was just a couple weeks ago.  So much has happened since then.  Divorce, got my own place, met the man of my dreams, applied for K-1 fiance' visa, got dumped when visa process was nearly finished, cars, weight gained and lost and gained again, became an aunt again, met another guy, thought he was the one, got preggo, miscarried, lost my last grandparent, surgeries, concerts, travel, met some idols, friends came and went and came back.  In just ten years.  Blink, it's gone!

A friend once told me something like - I'm staring down the hill, I'm 40.  How depressing.  I guess if you want to look at it that way it's your prerogative.  I prefer to think of it as a ton of experiences and I hope that I've learned something from them all.  I hope I carry those lessons with me and make fewer mistakes because of them.  Being 40 and single (well, divorced) is not what I envisioned my life to be, way back when I had designs on where I saw "Future Jenn."  It's not a terrible thing, but it's nice to have someone to share conversations and 'all that other relationship stuff.'  Another friend recently mentioned that people our age have so much baggage.  I flash back to the first paragraph and my summation of the last 10 years.  Yep, she's right.  Baggage.  Tons of it.  I try not to dwell on it too much.  Some of it was fantastic, some of it, not so much.  It serves a purpose though, doesn't it?  I can look back and think, wow, how stupid was I?  Or wow, I really did that!  Or even, wow, I...really...did that.



I guess I've always tended to try and see the glass half-full.  I probably hold onto hope a lot longer than others would that things will work out somehow.  Everyone tells me there's someone out there for you!  Wow, who wants a 40 year old woman?  I know!!!! A 90 year old man!  Silver lining has a whole new meaning.  But seriously, with all the people out there who have found happiness and all those who thought they found it, but now want to lose it, I think I'll try and take my time and do things the right way.  Lord knows, I haven't done either of those things in the past.  Thankfully, he knows how to keep a secret!  Men are weird, mysterious and in my experience, difficult reads.  For once I'd like to find the one who's as wild about me as I am about him.  So far, no luck in that area, but, for now, I refuse to give up hope.

My favorite cousin and I have re-connected, just before I hit the big four oh.  She is 9 months older than me.  We had so much fun when we were younger.  We were co-salon/boutique owners, she did hair and makeup and I designed clothes.  We also were accomplished choreographers and this was all before either of us could drive!  The fun we used to have!  When we did get to the age of driving, we spent many weekends together, 'cruising town', going dancing, scoping out guys and mostly staying out of trouble.  I usually had to be in by 11, with my strict father laying down that law, not much trouble 2 teenage girls in smalltown, PA could find before 11pm.  We turned out okay though.  She's been married since 1994!!!!  She's got 3 kids, who I'm sure are as well-behaved as we were.  The first time we went out together was about a month ago and I felt like I took over the whole conversation.  When we left the restaurant, I realized (with embarrassment,) she hadn't said much of anything, but she listened with interest to all my stories, good and bad.  No judging.  When we arranged our next 'date' I made sure to tell her that she needed to 'take the floor' this time.  Her reply was I don't have much to talk about.  Your stories are more interesting.  You should write a book.  I told her I'd have to take a pen name, due to the fact that I'm not exactly proud of everything I've done in life and I can't imagine having my parents read it all in print!  My baggage spread out for everyone to see!  Just like when I went to England for the first time and I opened my suitcase to unpack in the hotel.  I unlocked the case and upon opening it, there was a piece of paper in there that I did not pack. It was not in there when I handed it off to the lady at the desk in the Philly airport!  It read something like, "Your bag has been inspected for the safety of all."  This had been my first time flying.  If I could tell you what was in that bag, you would seriously explode with laughter at that statement, but if I told you, I'd have to use a pen name...

Laughing At Myself

Nearly two weeks ago, I stayed home on a Saturday night (shocker!) alone and remembered a good friend's birthday was coming along in a matter of hours.  I always recall her love of a certain male singer from the 70s and how one year for her birthday, he happened to be in the newspaper decked out in silver lame' and platform shoes, fashion staples of the 70s.  I rounded up as many of those newspapers as I could find and carefully trimmed his silhouette from the page, pasting them up everywhere I could think she would find them the next day when she arrived to work at 6am.  That is a memory the two of us will share forever and be able to always laugh, recalling all the places not noticeable at a first glance she found "her Barrys."  This time, I had to be a little less creative, but I still managed to find a nice video on Youtube of a perfectly coifed and fashionably supreme, sparkly Barry Manilow singing what I'm pretty sure she once told me was her favorite song, "Mandy."  In my quest for 70s Barry, I began to think of my own life in the 70s.  I may have been a bit young to idolize Mr. Manilow, but I had my own crushes and memories of celebrities of that time.  A high school acquaintance has brought quite a bit of 70s music back to life for me.  I even find myself tuning in to satellite radio stations that play mostly, if not all music from that time.  I find myself recognizing quite a bit of it and having flashbacks of summer vacations and bus rides to and from school.  It's amazing how a certain line or melody makes you remember the road trip to visit your aunt in South Carolina when you were about 6 or 7 and how you and your sister took turns sleeping on the floor of the green Ford Torino, your dad waited until the last minute to check the fluids and change the oil before you left around 1am.  You woke up to the sound of Peaches and Herb singing "Reunited" and sat up to ask your dad one more time "Are we there yet?"  To which he'd answer, "no, go back to sleep!"  I can still hear him sigh and know he's hoping he scared me enough to actually go back to sleep and it makes me chuckle.

I remember how much I loved Captain and Tenille's "Love Will Keep Us Together."  I think I knew all the words and danced around without a care in the world.  When I found out they were going to have a TV show of their own, look out!  I was there, to watch the Captain in his funny hat and watch them play their keyboards frantically.  I think it may have sparked an interest in me to play piano.  I vaguely remember a picture of my 2 or 3-year-old sister and me, at about 5, where you can plainly see, the fingers on my visible hand seem to be playing a cord!  As I kept exploring on Youtube that night, I found a few videos of my old faves and laughed as I recounted how excited I was whenever I knew they were on, be it radio or TV.

What I found next on Youtube, was practically the holy grail of my youth (from the 70s anyway.)  Donny & Marie!!!!!  Oh my gosh, I began to view clip after clip of the openings from their 70s hit variety show.  I felt about 4 years old again!  I had a major crush on Donny at that tender age.  I even "shared" a link from one of the openings on Facebook and recounted a tale of a young Jenn, who HAD to watch the show every week and HAD to have her bath finished well in advance of the show's opening.  This one night, it appeared my mom was too wrapped up in something else, possibly my sister, so I proceeded to draw my own bath water, as a four-year-old (imagine the temperature of that!)  And I couldn't find the shampoo, so I instead used the Safeguard bar soap to wash my hair in that ice-cube riddled water!  But I was finished JUST in the nick of time to see the opening.  The determination and independence in that little kid still exists today!

When I told my mom last week how I'd posted that story of my mad-dash-bath before Donny & Marie, she asked me "Why do you put stuff like that on there?"  My first instinct was to say "It's a funny story about me as a kid, don't you think it's funny?"  She just stared at me, puzzled and never replied.  I guess parents will always want us to just "go back to sleep."  But me, I think I prefer the ability to just keep laughing at myself.  What harm is there in it anyhow?