• Saw the year 2000 in as ‘Suzy Homemaker’ living in Mechanicsville, VA with a husband and two children.
• Was uprooted by said husband back to home state of Maine in October of 2000.  Left the white picket fence behind.
• Began nightmare of anorexia with my daughter, complete with feelings of helplessness as she wasted away.
• Separated from said husband in September 2001 upon shocking revelation.
• Struggled as a suddenly single mother, filed for divorce and continued trying to help my daughter overcome her eating disorder through 2002.
• Became a divorcee in June of 2002 and continued to struggle to pay the bills and be a good parent while dealing with life changes.
• A dear friend pays for me to train as a loan processor and I try to make ends meet by doing contract processing in 2002 and 2003.  It helps, but doesn’t provide enough income so I start job hunting. I also take some continuing education classes in Accounting and Office Procedures through adult ed.
• Rejoined the working world after being a stay at home mother for 13 years in August 2003.  Found out I had mad administrative and computer skills due to being a computer geek and having owned my own scrapbooking business while I was a SAHM.
• Still intimidated by my ex-husband and his proximity, fled to Morganton, NC in June 2004. Unexpectedly my son made the decision to stay in Maine with his father.
• During a Christmas visit to my son in 2004, become aware of his severe depression due to living with his father.  Make the heartbreaking decision to return to Maine.
• Friends help me pack up and move back to Maine in January 2005 in order to be closer to my son.
• Get a temp position at an oil company in February 2005 while temporarily living with my parents.
• My loan processing experience lands me a job as a title processor in March 2005. I begin the most stressful job I’d ever experienced in my life, but am determined to make it work.
• May 2005 finds me moving into my own apartment. My daughter and her boyfriend decide to abandon college in Virginia and join me.
• I begin a Certificate Course for Medical Coding and Billing in June 2006 at a local technical school while maintaining my full time job.  Went directly from my job to classes two nights a week and juggled homework, homelife and a still stressful job. Came to the realization that as much as I hated it, I was really, really good at title processing and working with the professionals involved.
• My son makes the decision to move in with me in June 2006, so now both he and his sister are living with me as well as his sisters boyfriend. Full House (or should I say, apartment)
• The real estate market in Maine crumbles in 2007, the title company I’m working for closes its doors in August 2007 and I am suddenly unemployed, still attending school and still with a full house.   The job market sucks and the state of Maine offers to help me start my own business if I have what they consider a viable idea.  In desperation I research what I might be able to do with the skills and experience I have and voila! the term ‘virtual assistant’ shows up in my search.
• September of 2007 sees the launch of my virtual assistance business.  I also finish my classes and externship to earn my Health Claims Certificate in December 2007.
• My son is accepted to East Carolina University in June 2008, I take him to college in August of 2008.
• One of my best friends offers me a temporary home in Richmond, VA  to put me closer to my son and allow me to look for a new home in North Carolina where I feel I can better afford to live and escape the horrible, harsh Maine winters.
• November 2008 finds me in Richmond, VA enjoying reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. My business continues to grow.
• I move into my new condo in North Carolina in April 2009.
• Changes to my business give me ups and downs during the rest of 2009, but for the most part it’s good. My son’s financial aid fails to materialize, so he ends up staying with me. We also add a family member, our kitten Fiona.

Wow, looking at that timeline, I’ve come a long way baby!  From controlled housewife to independent business owner. Heck, I’ve moved five times in the past 10 years!  But it’s all worked out for the best. Life just keeps getting better.  Are there bad things about where I am right now. Sure. Like the fact that my daughter is still living in Maine. I miss her every day. But she’s an adult and that’s what happens when your kids grow up.  For the most part, everything is better now than it was back then.

And I’m looking forward to exciting things in 2010 and beyond!  How about you?

Dear President Obama and members of Congress,

I’m writing this ‘letter’ more out of a need to express myself than with any true thought that it will actually be read.  At least not by anyone who might be in a position to represent my voice in a Congress that has an ear only for those voices which will further their own, or their parties agendas.  Of course, if I declare that I’m one of the many uninsured Americans then maybe those pushing for Health Care reform would be interested in what I have to say.  And although it’s true, I am uninsured, that’s really not the purpose of this letter.

Just what is that purpose?  To introduce you to a class of Americans that you may not be aware exist.  We aren’t homeless (yet) or getting any type of government assistance like food stamps, medicaid or welfare checks.  It’s not that we might not qualify, it’s just that we feel that walking into a local office to apply for that type of assistance feels like defeat.

Because you see Mr. Obama ( I hope you don’t mind my calling you that), we are fighting a battle every day.  Some of us are out of work and searching for jobs that can’t be found and others, are creating their own businesses and struggling to make money.  We dance for joy when enough money comes in to pay the rent for the month or keep the utilities paid and then start worrying about next month and the bills that we can’t pay.  The outstanding student loans, credit cards and others that aren’t required to live.

It’s not that we don’t want to pay them, but when it comes down to a roof over your head and food to eat we have no choice but to leave them unpaid.  We are embarrassed by it, but have no choice.

And speaking of eating, we’ve read all about the need for healthier Americans, but unfortunately the healthy food is the most expensive to buy.  When your grocery budget is smaller than the cost of most peoples phone bills, you have no choice but buy the cheaper, high fat cuts of meat and things like mac & cheese.  Fresh vegetables and lean meats are out of the question.  It appears that in America you need to be rich to eat healthy.  In fact I’m sure that some peoples grocery bill per month is perhaps higher than my gross earnings for the month.

Some of our children started off getting college educations, but now, with our credit ruined and no way to pay, their financial aid isn’t sufficient to allow them to remain to continue.  And try as they might, they can’t find a job.  Because with so many adults with families out of work, whose going to hire a kid without dependents?

We fight the battle every day, waking up with optimism and determination and going to bed with the same fears and worries as the day before.  How long can we survive this way?

We haven’t always been like this.  We were once your middle class, with white picket fences and 2.2 children living in the suburbs in our own home, attending PTA meetings and football games. We were alot like you, wondering not if we were going to eat, but what and where.  It’s still a shock to us that our lives have changed so drastically, and maybe in some ways we are still in denial, hoping that tomorrow we’ll wake up and be greeted by that picket fence again.

Although the numbers would tell us we’re poor, we’re a proud bunch, and resilient.  We have a hard time swallowing that label.  We tell ourselves we’re ‘frugal’ and ‘thrifty’.  When in truth, we don’t go places and do things because we can’t afford gas for the car or money to get in.  No one would know from looking at us either.  We dress well, and no one would ever guess that the last time we bought new clothes was over a year ago. And generally Mr. President, we don’t complain.

But there in Washington, DC I’m pretty sure no one is aware of us.  We’re not on the welfare rolls, so you don’t number us amongst the poor and we’re no longer middle class.  It seems we’re a whole new class of Americans and we’re invisible to those that represent the American people there in America’s capitol.

If only each and every one of you could spend a few months living just the way we do, wondering if the next paycheck is going to come and what you’re going to do if it doesn’t.  Apologizing to creditors calling for payment and explaining yet again to your landlord or lender why your payment is going to be late again. They need to go to a grocery store with $30 and try to buy enough to eat for a week as well as necessary items like soap and toilet tissue.  Then maybe we wouldn’t be invisible anymore.

The funny thing is, we aren’t asking our government for a handout.  We simply want  you to see us, recognize us and what we’re dealing with and find a way not to try to solve all of our problems, but to provide us with something to grab onto so that we can help ourselves.  This letter, in it’s small, rather insignificant way is our way of saying “We’re here” .  We need a Horton to hear us.

Now I look back on that time as precious, time I got to spend with friends in a place that had once been my home. My friend gave me more than a place to live for five months, she gave me the gift of a real home during that time. Never once did I feel like an outsider and I know that to this day she would have loved for me to stay.

As tempted as I was, deep inside I knew that it wasn’t where my path was leading.

Recalling the past year, I remember just how scary the whole experience was. Second guessing my decisions was almost a daily event.  Even now, somedays, when client payments are  overdue and it’s been months since I’ve seen my daughter, I still question my sanity.

But then, I really look at where I am, what I’ve accomplished and where my path seems to be leading now.  I know that although to the outside world my choices might have appeared frivolous, they were exactly the right ones for me.  My son and I enjoy our home here in NC.  And my soul feels like it’s found where it belongs.

I like to imagine years down the road.  I see myself surrounded by friends and yes, even some family members.  I visualize how it will be to look back on all of this and be able to smile and know exactly why my path to home took such unusual twists and turns.

Let’s start with what irritated me…

1. What was Emme there for? Really?  I love the woman, and I think she’s been a marvelous role model for real women, but  there truly was no purpose for her on this show besides showing a successful plus sized woman.

2. Whining…especially in the earlier episodes.  Trust me, not all curvy chicks thinks that happens depends upon finding validation by finding a man to marry. Yes we want to find love. No we don’t think there is only one man out there that will find us attractive.

3. Malissa. Even the way she spelled her name bugged me. And I feel horrible because I know the producers of the show probably slanted it to make her appear cold and calculating. It’s entirely possible she was a warm, genuine curvy chick too. But all I could see was a cold, calculating ice princess.

What I liked about the show

1. Beautiful curvy women.  I sure hope America took notice that you don’t have to be a size 2 in order to be gorgeous.

2. Luke.  It was pretty obvious he honestly was attracted to the curves.  And even though at times it seemed like he was leading some of the girls along, it always seemed truly difficult for him to send someone home. He appeared to be a truly nice guy and yes, an attractive man. (Why is it big guys don’t have the same problems finding women to accept them?)

3. Tali. I know, I know…we saw what the producers of the show wanted us to see, but she was a strong, confident chubby chick.  Not only that, she was dealing with the difference in background as well. Yet she handled it all with grace and dignity. She was open about how difficult it was to deal with the competition, but when it came right down to it, it never seemed like it was about the competition with her.  She knew there was a possibility Luke would choose Malissa, yet she never spoke about it as if she were losing a competition. She also was/is a wonderful role model for girls, perhaps seeing more women like Tali will help young girls/women be confident in themselves for who they are, not what size they wear.  I really, really hope the Tali we saw on TV was for real.

4. The outcome.  Finally a guy that thought with his head (and hopefully his heart) instead of something else.  I LOVED Luke’s mother and her reactions to Malissa.  I thought, “Finally! Someone who sees through this chick other than me!”. Kudo’s to Luke’s mom! And kudo’s to Luke and Tali for being true to themselves, and being willing to tackle the background/religious differences. I hope the two of you truly have found love with one another.  Yeah, I know…sappy, hopeless romantic here.

I guess overall I can say, as a curvy chick myself, that I hope there will be more shows brave enough to portray real sized women as beautiful, sexy and desirable. Even though the show had it’s bad points I have to give it a huge ‘BRAVO’ for being brave enough to say, “Hey, let’s make a show with real sized women.”

*Warning- this post could be considered a bit of an over-share moment.  It delves a bit into a not so pretty time in my life and my children’s lives.  I apologize if it’s too dark or personal.  I just had an intense need to vent*

Yesterday I suddenly realized that one of my greatest problems is that I expect other people to react the same way I do in certain situations.  Or more specifically…the ex.  I am repeatedly baffled, disappointed and angered by the man.  Granted, I suppose I shouldn’t expect too much from an abusive ex right?  But when it comes to his children; or rather the one child that he still retains some small degree of a relationship with, I have certain expectations.

Helping that child remain in college being one of them.  Color me naive. Again.

For all the perks of owning your own business, there are a few drawbacks.  One is that until your business is a few years old with a track record of making some sort of profit, financial institutions don’t consider you a viable co-signer for your child’s education loan.  At least not two years in a row.  So my son finds himself in need of a co-signer for his college loan.  And I suggested he call his father. ( I use that term loosely)

My son’s hesitance to do so should have tipped me off. After all, if a 19 year old, 6′2″ foot guy is afraid to call his father, there is probably good reason.  But no, I couldn’t imagine a man who owns his home, spends flagrantly purchasing the contents of abandoned storage units and yard sales and has already lost all hope at a relationship with his daughter, turning down the opportunity to help his only son return to college.

I must live in a fantasy world.  Because not only did he, he managed to make his son feel horrible in the process.

And then, being me and not so bright at times, I called to see if there was anything I could say that might change his mind.  Except, by this point I am totally disgusted with this man.  I have come to realize that he believes that because he is divorced from the family he abused for 17 years, he is absolved of all guilt and/or responsibility.  And that my reminding him that he hasn’t really done much for these two children that suffered through his abuse is always a trigger.  Big mistake on my part.  Talk about being reminded of the nightmare that was my life.

His inability to understand the depth of what he inflicted on his children blows my mind. And the fact that he feels like they owe him anything when he hasn’t even made an attempt to apologize or show his remorse for what he did leaves me cold.  My heart breaks for the one child that hadn’t yet seen the man for the sorry P.O.S. he is.  It’s tough to see a 19 year old come to the realization that he holds no importance to his own father.  That in order to receive any semblance of caring or care-taking that he is expected to fulfill some strange set of requirements to make this angry man feel better about what he did.  As if his son calling on a regular basis absolves him of the horrible scars the boy carries from years of never knowing when his father was going to blow up and hurt him?

I can’t believe the injustice that the man who should have been arrested and carried a sexual offender designation for the rest of his life is happily pretending it never happened. I wonder if his current girlfriend and her children (his replacements for his own children I presume) know about his sordid past?  Or if they just think that I’m the bitch ex-wife and I’ve turned his children against him for some reason?

Today I woke up still feeling the effects of the drama yesterday. Two cups of coffee and this blog post later, I’m starting to regain my equilibrium again.   And I realize that I don’t own his failure as a father.  All I can do is love my kids and do whatever I can to let them know that I have enough love for them for both mother and father.

It’s his Epic Father Fail…

Of course, running my own business I don’t always remember what’s on TV, or even to set up my DVR, so tonight I watched Episode 1 online and Episode 2 (which I had remembered to record.).  My first impression?  I have mixed feelings.

It’s great to see a guy willing to tell the world he prefers a lush, curvaceous woman, and it’s also wonderful to see some truly beautiful women who don’t wear a size 2 (or even 12 for that matter).  But there are a few things I’m disappointed in too.

First, way too much crying. I realize this probably has a lot to do with editing, after all, even the most self confident woman might break down when confronting certain memories or past wrongs.  So, if these truly are self confident women, let’s see it instead of all of the tears.  I think the producers are trying to show America that larger sized people deal with a great deal of discrimination from childhood on through adulthood.  But the women are just way too emotional in doing so.

And second, it makes it appear that every one of these women believe that this is their one chance at finding love.  I would have loved to see a woman on there that had that attitude that sure, they came on the show with hopes of finding something special, but that not getting chosen doesn’t leave them thinking they’re destined to be alone forever.

Luke, the show’s grand prize, even said he was looking at the way a women presented herself and felt about herself.  So if all the weeping is due to editing…here’s a plea to Fox, please stop.  Yes, we love the fact that you’re showing the world beauty in a larger package, but we want to see dignity and self esteem to go along with it.

Last weekend, I responded to one of the messages I received on Plenty of Fish.  The sender seemed to be a bit more sincere than the rest.  After some playful response banter, he offered up his number, and although a bit hesitant, I bit the bullet and did the same.

Then the texting began and he seemed pretty genuine. So genuine in fact that by the end of the weekend we had set up a ‘meet and greet’ for Wednesday.  I’ll admit, I was kind of excited to be dipping my toes into the dating pool again.  Even though I’d mentioned that I wasn’t available Monday and Tuesday nights,  Mystery Date Man (MDM) texted on a regular basis on Monday.  I thought I was sensing impatience that we had to wait til mid week, but then on Tuesday I heard nothing.   So when Wednesday rolled around, I wasn’t really surprised when he texted saying he couldn’t meet hit the cell.  I was ok with that, either he was telling the truth and we’d reschedule or he just wasn’t really interested, which was cool too.

When the texts began again Thursday, I anticipated a request to reschedule our meeting, but it didn’t come. Then again today the texts began, but no mention of another time to meet.  And then, just now, after 10pm at night, I get a text asking how my night was going.  As the text conversation ensued, being the shoot from the hip kind of girl I am, I asked if we were going to reschedule the meet and greet of if we were just going to text back and forth.  His response?

Wait for it…..

His response was that he was ok with ‘it’. (texting) and that he was going to invite me over to his place since I had said I was a bit bored.  Hello??  Buddy?  do the women you hang out with generally rush on over to the home of a guy they’ve never met at night…in the dark?  Duh!!  Did this guy think that being a chubby chick I was so desperate for a man’s attention that I’d jump at the chance?  And although the dangers of doing so were of course a concern, I really don’t even think a serial killer would be stupid enough to approach a woman that way and think she’d actually do it.

This guys behavior, coupled with all of the responses on the dating site that I haven’t responded to because they were all about ‘hooking up’ and ‘having a little fun’, have me once again frustrated with the whole idea of trying to date. After my little ‘text-versation” with MDM I was mad enough to spit nails (as my grandfather used to say).  Is it like this for all single women or is it because I’m a chubby chick?

Listen up guys, get this straight. Yes, I’m very up front about being ‘rubenesque’ , but not because I’m making some sort of ‘excuse’.  I know that a BBW isn’t for everyone, so if you know it’s not for you, you don’t have to waste my time and yours.  My self esteem isn’t lying in the dirt and I’m certainly not desperate.  Sure, I’d like to have a man in my life, but it’s not a requirement.  And don’t date me thinking you’re doing me a favor, because let me tell you, I’ve got a lot to bring to a relationship with the right guy.  I’m intelligent, motivated and have a pretty good sense of humor.  Not to mention things of a more…ahem…personal nature.

So here I sit, wondering if this is what I’m going to have to deal with over and over before I find something seriously worthwhile.  And my question to myself is, do I really have time to play these foolish games?

I spent last week in glorious Southern Maine in order to attend a family function. I had anticipated the most wonderful time of the year for a visit to Vacationland.  Normally, this would be the prime time to hang on the rocky beaches or enjoy the sunshine at the lake. What I didn’t anticipate was a washout.  It rained practically every day. In fact, I can only recall one bright, sunny, summer-like day during my entire 7 day stay.

Listening to the locals, apparently the sun is a stranger in good old Maine, making it hard to swallow their new motto “The Way Life Should Be”.  I’m pretty sure life isn’t supposed to be about flash flood warnings.

To all of my Maine friends and family who are considering turning their homes into houseboats, come on down.  My plane landed to sunshine and summer heat, perfect for hitting the pool, heading out on a boat, laying on a beach or any number of other summer activities. Heck, if you wait long enough maybe your houseboat will just float you down here!