A mid-summer spell

Today I burned the two letters I wrote about earlier this month. I went out into the garden and tried to light them on fire. I didn't know if I was supposed to have a ceremony or ritual for burning the letters, so I just decided to burn them in a peaceful setting.

It was supposed to be much easier than it actually was. I was fine mentally and emotionally, but every time I tried to light them, the wind came and blew them out. This happened to the point where it got spooky. The paper would burn right up to the words and then die. A thought crossed my mind that the letters were more than just paper, and that some outside force was keeping them from burning and I got really frustrated. I tried protecting the flame, holding the letter at different angles, and rotating my body with the wind to try to get the damn thing to catch- nothing was working. It was getting ridiculous and I gave in and tried saying something: "I don't love you," or "I release you."

After accusing him of writing on some miracle fire-proof paper, it finally caught. Burning two sheets of paper took over a half hour and I now smell like smoke. Even the ashes wouldn't break apart. I could pick up the remains and it would still be in one piece, handwriting still legible. It felt like cloth now instead of paper. "What is going on?" I screamed and threw the ash-paper down and jumped up and down on it, stomping it until it became a pile of ashes. Then I kicked the ashes until they had scattered. That was probably the most therapeutic part of the entire process.

I was hoping for some big revelation, but there was none. Although I don't regret it- I really believe it had to be destroyed- I don't feel any different now that it's done.

But not you, dear reader

I would just like to say that I've hated everything and pretty much everyone for the past 2 weeks. This just seemed like a good forum to release my anger.

Looking for something positive here

Living at home agrees with me in the sense that I've lost some weight since I've been back. This is absolutely amazing since my activity level flatlined. No more belly! We don't keep a scale here, but I estimate I've lost anywhere from 8-15 lbs. I'm down a pant-size and a half. However, I just noticed this morning that I'm also down in cup size! Dammit! Loved them while I had em!

I'm going to bed

So I got into not one, but two car accidents today. Within two miles of each other.

For the first one, I was on a three lane road and they were doing construction on the left lane and they had it closed down up ahead. I was already in the right hand lane, waiting to get on the highway. This effing Mercedes SUV flies up the left lane as far as she can, to avoid the traffic, and then cuts into my lane with no warning. The irony is for these assholes is that traffic wouldn't be that bad if people didn't do this. The people who are trying to escape the traffic are the ones who cause it. So she cuts into my lane in front of me, which normally would have earned her a long honk, only there wasn't enough room for her prestigious car and she merged right into my left wheel. I guess she thought people would avoid her because of the price tag on her SUV, but this was not the case. That and she was on her cell phone. She didn't even notice she hit me and kept on driving. I got out, looked at my front, and there were just rub marks that can be buffed out, so I didn't bother with the police or hit-and-run report.

I get in my car and I'm pissed. I merge on the highway and I speed up, catching sight of the damn SUV mom so I can at least get her plate number if I need to use it later. I *just* merged on the highway so again I'm in the right hand lane, but I'm going the normal traffic flow at around 75 mph. All of a sudden I notice I'm getting passed on the right. It didn't hit me right away what was happening, but I knew that for some reason I shouldn't be passed on the right. Then I realized that the only thing next to me is the shoulder of the road. So this guy in his cheap white Honda is passing me on the shoulder. I look at my speedometer to check my speed, maybe I was dragging ass, but I was doing 75 mph: 10 mph over the speed limit. That means the Honda had to be going at least 80 mph. I again honk angrily and he pulls into my lane, again not leaving enough room for my Explorer and hits me. This time it scared the living crap out of me because of the speeds we were going. I slammed on my breaks and my back wheels skidded out of control for a second. I don't think you're supposed to play bumper cars on the highway. AND AGAIN THE DRIVER KEEPS GOING! I pulled over because I was shaking so hard. Again there were only rub marks on my bumper, just on the right side this time in addition to ones on my left.

I'm a little sore from the second one: the seatbelt cut into me and my shoulders hurt. I just turned around and headed home after the second time, shaking and crying the whole way. Needless to say, I'm a little skittish about driving today.

News to me

My mother has decided that I'm clinically depressed. She brought home books for me to read with such titles as "Happiness is a Serious Issue." I got upset when she gave me the books and she thought it was because of the depression. The reason I got upset was because I don't want to read any stinking self-help books. I don't think I'm clinically depressed. I have been much worse off than this before. I'm afraid to tell her that I don't think I'm depressed because she'll just tell me that I'm in denial, just like they do with alcoholics.

Oh yeah

Since the scrapbook, my mother has been asking me what my ex is up to these days. "I don't know, Mom, I haven't spoken to him in 2 years." Then she brought up all the horrible things he did and recalled why I broke up with him. I remember now.

Jerk.

I didn't realize how much we wrote each other

Well I finished the book, flipped through it once, and put it away. I do feel better now that it's done. Every time I saw it when it was unfinished, I always felt a mix of emotions that were not pleasant. The hardest thing about finishing it was retyping the love e-mails in the computer to print out on special paper. I did not enjoy reliving the words we both so foolishly wrote.

There is one letter, penned by me, that I feel I must burn. Inspired by Ms Thang, I think I should burn it to liberate me and turn my love karma around. However, I am very distraught with this decision, even though I know I'm sure it is the right one. I also feel a need to censor some parts of other letters, but I am also battling that too. I don't want to fraud history.

The entire process is making me miss Matt like crazy. He's working very hard this month and I've only seen him once. I think we might not see each other this weekend either so he can catch up on his rest. We'll see. But I really want to affirm our love now that this cleansing is all over.

I'll try and think of more interesting things to post in the future!

Arts and crafts time

Thanks for all the comments to let me know that indeed ALL mothers are like this, not just mine. I am now resigned to the orders and we are able to coexist peacefully.

I found a scrapbook that I had made of a past relationship. Well, we were still together at the time, when it made more sense to keep a scrapbook. It's very cool with photos and love letters and the like. It looks like I stole all mementos we had for the book, so he probably doesn't even have a photo of me, but I don't think that keeps him up at night. The problem: it's not finished. I have pages laid out that were never completed and put into the book. It would take me several hours to finish. I don't know whether to complete it or not. Part of me wants to so it will be a finished book and won't have crap hanging out of it; it looks kinda sad not complete. But the other part of me doesn't want to spend one minute on a book about an ex. If I should complete it, it would have the same fate as being uncompleted: it will go back up to the attic in a box. So why waste any time on this project?

Any thoughts?

Sigh

I miss my blog.

I'm finally moved back to my mother's house. Can't tell you what I loser I feel like at the moment. 24 and living at home. It's just for six weeks so I can save a little money and help my mom out while she had this serious operation, but it's getting to me.

The drive to and from work are great. I think about how much money I'm saving. Especially Monday when I didn't have to write a check for $675, but then I get home and I walk in the door and I'm treated like an 11-year-old until the next morning at 8am when it's time to leave again. "Did you pay your cell phone bill? Did you lock your truck? Did you take the wash upstairs? Remember your car insurance is due." I want to scream and cry and rip my hair out.

She even sets an alarm for her to wake me up in the morning. Ggggrrrreat.

***

When I was moving, I found a pack of gum and I stuck it in my purse. I just noticed that the outside wrapper says, "Win a trip to be on MTV spring break '04." Copywrite 2003. I'd like to say that I'm going to take this piece of gum out of my mouth, but I'm not.