One of Those Days

You ever have one of those days where your mind is full of stuff but it’s so jumbled, you can’t figure anything out and why your head (figuratively) hurts you so much that it makes you sick to your stomach?  Or maybe the problem isn’t a bunch of stuff but your mind has nothing going on at all and it still does that?  I’ve been having a couple of those days lately.  I’ve been taking my medicine (speaking of which…), things seem to be totally normal for me, but I can’t shake this feeling.  My heart aches, my stomach is turning and I’m on edge.

The year, on the whole so far, has been shit, starting with the loss of my dad.  Mind you, the European trip was fabulous.  But it even seems like everyone around me is under the black cloud hanging over my family’s heads.  I know I’m being vague, but I’m not getting into all of the problems going on right now, since a lot of them do not have to do with me exclusively.  I have a couple things to look forward to:  new haircut, some new ink, a beach vacation.  I’m lucky in some aspects of my life.  Time is going fast, but not fast enough.  I know I shouldn’t wish life away, but I want some of these things that will make me happy to come faster.  I guess I’m sort of in a depressed state, even though I can’t be because I need to be there for my family, who all have their own sets of problems.  I need to be strong, a guiding force, someone to lean on, someone to cheer them up.  I try.  I really do.  But life is pounding away at me without lube right now and I can’t pinpoint the reason or reasons why.

I keep finding random coins in odd places and I know my dad is around me (laugh, if you will.  I still believe it.)  But what is he trying to say or do?  I can always guess, and for the most part, be spot on to what would come out of his mouth, if he said anything at all about something.  But we weren’t normally people to sit down and have a one on one chat.  That’s what my Grandmama was for; unfortunately, I don’t have access to her wisdom either.

I can’t think of any more to write at this time – like i said, jumbled mess or totally blank.  I just want this feeling to go away and I wish someone would tell me how to do that.  Until next time, here’s hoping for better days…

May 26, 2015 – Paris

So, I’ve been up since 3:45 am.  I got up for something, knew my alarm was going off at 4:00, so I said fuck it, I’ll stay up.  I sat down, made coffee and finished writing my last journal entry for yesterday.  By the time I finished, I thought, okay, I’ll go back to sleep.  The I saw that the clock said 4:45 and I had set my second alarm for 5;00, so there was no point.  Went outside a good bit since I had woken up, without waking up Ernie.  Got ready for the day and he finally got up and went down to breakfast with me.  Wasn’t too thrilled about it.  Oh, well.

Now, I’m waiting for him to shower and get ready.  I believe we are going to the Musée d’Orsay today; Louvre tomorrow.  I think that’s how it goes.  Possibly doing some shopping today – Louboutin, I’m coming for you.  I’m so tired but I just want to go and get moving.  Actually, I’m starting to feel homesick again.  When Ernie started talking about Paris months ago, it took me a bit, but I was getting pretty excited too.  It’s not living up to my expecations, maybe?  I don’t know.

(Did you ever notice that crumbled up potato chips are like food confetti?  Yep.  I’m that tired.)

I’m going to pause here, after that really weird thought and get my shit together to go out.


I’m back.  After breakfast, we went to Musée d’Orsay.  Quite cold this morning – so much so, my hands were numb from the cold.  We had a museum pass so we shouldn’t have had to wait in a queue, but we must not have gone to the right area.  Dunno.

As soon as we got in there, I forgot I was in Paris.  I was just so enthralled by the artwork there.  I’m thinking about making an additional Shutterfly book just on the pictures I took at all the museums.

Afterward, Ernie started hurting, so we decided to leave and get lunch at Les Deux Musées.  He, of course, got real food, while I decided to have ice cream.  Ah, the perks of being an adult and on vacation.  I also tried crème brûlée for the first time – wasn’t too bad.  Yes, wine was the beverage of choice.  Needless to say, I got a bit (well, maybe a little more than) tipsy at the restaurant.

We made a pit stop back at the hotel, for some reason.  Can’t remember why.  Shortly after, we took a walk through the Jardin des Tuileries. which was very pretty.  We walked to the rue Saint-Honoré, which I believe is the French version of Bond Street.  Very expensive.  But I was on a mission – Christian Louboutin!  So we waited (yes, we actually had to wait in a queue outside of the store) in the hot sun for quite a bit.  They only let in a few people at a time.  At one point, I was going to leave, but then the line moved again, so I decided to wait.  I had been thinking about this since Ernie had brought it up.  It had to be done.

My turn arrived and I just stared in awe at the collection.  Then, I was told there was an upstairs!  I was in love!  So I picked one out and the lady got my equivalent size.  Then, BAM!  Reality hit.  I couldn’t fit into the shoe (with my wider foot with a bunion)!  This wasn’t happening to me!  The sales lady was very helpful and found a rounded toe nude Mary Jane – still in love.  Nope.  Mind you, I’ve been doing a lot of walking and it was warm and my feet were swollen.  Finally, she let me try on a ballet flat that was a little larger in size for me.  Big nope.  The bunion stuck out and they would’ve slipped off when I walked.  These shoes weren’t made for me.  They were made for petite, skinny females.  Not people like me.  My dream was dashed.

However, there was still hope.  I found a pair of slip-ons for Ernie and convinced him to try them on.  The sales lady left and reemerged with no box in hand.  They didn’t have his size in stock.  Deeply disappointed (at least me), we left and went back to the hotel with Ernie trying to console me.

From a short stop at the hotel, Ernie said we were going to Le Bon Marché – France’s version of Harrod’s but more reasonable.  Ok.  I’m in.  More reasonable, my ass.  At least the ground floor – Hermès, Chanel, Prada, etc….more disappointment.  We continued on and found some clothing and shoes for both of us that were expensive but doable.  I was going to get a Stella McCartney long-sleeved shirt but then I spotted shoes.  Having learned my lesson earlier, I looked for something more fitting for me.  After searching Prada and Chanel and countless other big names,  I found Jimmy Choo.

I got Ernie from where he was sitting and tried to get is opinion.  After looking at another set of Mary Janes and other heels with pointed toes (a no-no for me apparently), Ernie found sparkly black slip-ons and thought they would work for me.  I said I’d think about it and off we went to look for him.  After much searching, he found a blazer that was not bad, price-wise.  He was also looking at a pair of navy slip-on suedes.  Both were something to consider.

So, we went about searching just men’s shoes.  I told him if he proposed any penny loafers or shoes with tassels, I would turn them down.  Then we found a pair of Prada slip-ons and they were perfect!  Mr. Sensible needed to think about it.  We decided to go to the Champagne Bar for a drink and think things over.  I was starting to like those Choo’s even more.  So, we got them.  Tight, but you know why.  We found out the store was open longer so we went to look at the blazer.  The biggest size would close on him, but they were going to open it up a bit and send it home.  Ernie decided not to chance it.  And the first pair of shoes that we saw fit but they were a bit long and narrow.  So he gave up on them and also decided not to go after the Prada.

We took the Metro back and started to look for dinner.  We did so much walking (at the end of the whole story, I’ll tell you how many miles we walked) because there was nothing I liked or it was all in French.  We finally came upon Restaurant La Frégate.  Not bad at all – unfortunately, I can’t recall what I ate there.  There was quite a bit of wine drinking in both cities, but more so in Paris.  When in…Paris…  Dinner was pretty late because we got to see the sunset while we were there and that doesn’t happen until after 9:00 pm.

That was our day in the biggest nutshell you can find.

Falling Apart at the Seams

I feel like I’m at a breaking point again.  Oh, I’ve been at worse points than this.  But you go for so long in a manic or even mixed state and then – BAM! – you become depressed and “paralyzed”.  You know you have so much stuff that needs to be done, but none of it matters, even though part of you is willing to give it a try.  It’s just the rest of your body doesn’t know how to explain to that little percentage of you on how to get things done.

What makes it even worse is when someone sees or knows you’re upset and they practically treat you like you have the plague.  Don’t shed any tears!  Make no mention of the “D” word!  You’ll be fine!  Go take a nap or something!  No.  It doesn’t work.  Even if it did, I can’t do that with 2 children around.  There are others depending on me and I’m at my worst.  How can I possibly help them?  I do, of course, but that’s as far as I get.  My mind and body are screaming for help!

I hate this motherfucking feeling.  I was better than this.  Really.  I was.  I could say “then I had kids”, but that’s like blaming them for my faults.  Yes, I became a mom, but I’m only supposed to get better as a person because of that, right?  This is coming out all wrong.  Wrong or not, I’m not editing to make myself look better than I am.  This is me, breaking apart, throwing out whatever comes to mind.

I need help.  I need the people around me for help.  I know I’ve gotten through worse before, some of it on my own.  It just seems like it’s getting worse as time goes on, which is not a good thing for me to believe.  I want to feel needed and important again, not given a small pat on the back and sent on my way.  Don’t ignore me.  Please.