Dooce.com

I've been taking time over the past couple of months at the suggestion of a dear friend to read Dooce, come to understand the meaning of being dooced, and what a blogsite can mean for people, like me, who write about work, amongst other things. For everyone who visits me - - please know that I am a person who doesn't fear much of anything. I tell my stories to make people laugh, I feel laughter is the key to living a full life. This post isn't about laughter, though... it's about my life!

If you want funny, select Parking In Rear, The Moneyman, or Bar Beeyatches.

Life is a road of twists and turns, fears and hopes, wins and losses, biting your tongue, and trying to prove (to everyone) you are strong, proud, and not what anyone expectes you to be. In many ways my life is like everyone else's. You can just live it as you go and hope as you are about to pass on wherever we go after this that you can look back and say, "Damn, I lived a full life and I LOVED it!"

In high-school I worked in radio on the weekends. I had crush on an older guy (gushing over him from when I was 13)... he hit on me on my 18th birthday, and we started dating. I moved out on my own after high-school graduation and kept working in media - - full-time in TV, part-time writing for a newspaper, and continued my radio job, all while being a full-time college student in Radio/TV Broadcasting. My 50-hour work weeks brought in $15,500 a year as my total earnings. My relationship with my crush ended when he said our love-life needed some spice and we should try a 3-some with a 17-year-old blonde with huge tits from his Karate class - - I slapped his face and told him he wasn't enough man to keep up with one of me, let alone two of anyone. I was 20. Two months after the break-up I found out I had out I had to have surgery, so I took 2 weeks off work for recovery and spent some time out-of-state with my oldest brother. Bless his heart, my brother pushed me into looking for a work somewhere away from home to change my life.

I got an amazing job offer with an events promotions company and moved across the country. I didn't date for over a year, I bought a house before my 21st birthday, got a new vehicle, got a promotion at my new job, got a raise, got to travel the country, and got to know myself. I became less mousy and more direct, I made a place for myself in the events circuit where I could call people and say my name and they immediately knew who I was and that I was calling to give them an invitation to an exclusive competition. I began dating again... a different guy every night of the weekend for months. A heart-surgeon had me accompany him to exclusive restaurants and parties, a marketing guy took me rock-climbing and hiking, a GM of a huge car dealership took me to concerts with front-row tickets every time, and a mechanic introduced me to the best live bands hidden in the dirtiest bars. The marketing guy and I dated more often than I saw any of the other guys, and a few months later we were officially a "couple" of sorts. A year later, the amazing job started going downhill when the CEO lost $250K on a bad event, my HOA had no money and I had to use all my savings to get my roof repaired, and the guy I was dating was moving out-of-state (we weren't really getting along anymore though).

I visited my mother back home and had some incredible quality time with her that we had missed since I moved, I returned and convinced marketing guy to let me move with him to get me out of the crumbling situation I was in with the company I was working for, I sold my home, gave away most of my belongings, and moved half-way back across the country without a job (to the city I live in now). A week after the move I was offered a management position in retail making $10K more than at my previous job. I began my job training, schedueled moving into my own apartment (since marketing guy and I were no longer dating), and things were looking good.

One morning I got a phone call that my mother had suddenly fallen ill and would not live another 24-hours. I got a flight out that afternoon, and was the first to see my father since he had gotten the news... which was for the best because he was able to cry with me, and he was able to be solid and strong like a granite peak when my brothers arrived in town. My mother lived another 2 days - - and was completely cognitive and able to communicate with all of us. Her lungs had quit absorbing oxygen for whatever reason, and the only way she could stay alive was by being on a respirator. She knew she was dying, and she let us know she wanted off the machine. We were all with her when the respirator was removed, and she hugged us all and let us know she loved us. I was holding her hand when she passed.

I stayed home with my father for a month and finished my job training (thanks to a great boss who had friends everywhere), then I returned to my begin my new job in management in the new town. As a friend, marketing guy had kept in touch as I was away, and had kept my belongings for me so I wouldn't have to pay storage fees. I got into my new apartment as soon as I was back, disconnected myself from everyone, and began drinking every night after work until I would fall asleep. After a few months I forced myself into therapy because I wasn't coping with the loss of my mother, I didn't recognize myself anymore... and one of my employees told me I didn't look healthy and needed to get out more. Three more months pass, my employee invites me to meet his friends a few times but I decline due to company policies, then Christmas comes around. Marketing guy calls and invites me to spend the holiday with his family so I won't be alone. New Year's comes and goes, I drink an entire bottle of wine to celebrate by myself.

It's 2003, January 5th I get a call at 8 AM from my employee telling my I have to meet his friends. I decline. He calls a hour later, and says if I don't come along there won't be enough people to play the games they had in mind. I drag my ass out of bed and go meet up with my employee. A group of guys is hanging out at a nice little house on the other side of town... and I was the only girl there. The day passes and we have fun hanging out, and later in the evening the guy who owns the house comes home and everything stops. Tall, dark, & handsome - HELLO! I memorize his phone number as he is giving it to my employee before we all leave. Two days later I call Mr. Good-Looking, and we talk for a few hours. Every night for a week we are on the phone together for 2-6 hours a night, just talking. I finally ask him to meet me for dinner so we can talk face-to-face again. We meet up to eat, and talk at the restaurant for 4 hours. I invite him back to my apartment (a big no-no in my rulebook until you know he's not a serial killer). We watch Monte Python, we play HALO, we talk until 5 in the morning. I tell him he can stay and sleep on my bed, but threaten that if he touches me I'll shoot him with the hand gun under my pillow (amazingly he's not scared off). We sleep a couple hours, he wakes up and calls in sick to work, then we start talking again... and talk until 7 in the evening when he realizes he has to go home. He said to me, "This is everything I've ever wanted. I think this is it." I reply, "We're soul mates!" He says, "We certainly are."

Four months later we were married, and he truly is the love of my life... faithful, understanding, patient, kind, gentle, stubborn, brilliant, funny, goofy, sweet, and snugglable to name a few. The journey has been a long one, but without the twists it's taken I would have never met the amazing guy I get to call Hubby.