I Will Never Forget The Moment

B"I will never forget the moment I realized I loved you." 

I can see exactly where he sat down at the bar. It was slightly tucked away, right next to a large column that almost served as a sheet for this fort of solitude. I walked over to him in a haze made famous by made for TV movies. It was as tho we were the only two in the bar.

I leaned against the counter causally, said my hello, and asked what he wanted. I knew the answer before he even spoke. But what I remember most is dirt on his white tshirt. His motor oil stained hands, calloused from a 14 hour work day. The smudge of grease on his left cheek.

As he rubbed his hands together, lifted his mess of hair head, and looked at me, I really saw him for the first time. 

His eyes were so green, with gold little specks all around the middle, and more sparkle than a lit Christmas tree. The expression on his face was so honest, and caring, and strong, and gentle. I had never seen more truth in someone's eyes before this wave of clarity. It was then that I felt my heavy heart reach out and hold so tightly to another soul, and I just knew that it would never let go. 

It was in that moment, where there wasn't a sound, nor so much as a single breath, that I realized, I was completely in love with this man.

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Happy Halloween

So this just happened. Happy Halloween I guess.

I've dyed my hair myself more times that I can count. Sometimes it turnt out well, sometimes not so much. This one just might take the cake. Definitely wasn't going for Ronald McDonald orange.

We heard back on the house today. Well, not really. We called to get an update, as we we're supposed to have heard Friday. We are now the primary offer, and the offer is accepted. However, supposivly no one will put a mound in until spring, and the bank will not give us a loan until the mound goes in. 

I may have had the beginning of a quarter life crisis, and lost my shit. So screw it, you know what I haven't done in a while? Excuse my french, fucked with my hair! 

As I'm shaking this bottle waiting for the color to develope, I'm realizing this bright blood orange Halloween poster of a color is not getting any darker.

Any Logical person with an ounce of common sence would have determined this, to be a problem. They would put the bottle down, consider the $6 a loss, and try again some other time. But me? Oh me..I shrugged my shoulders and slapped it on.

As my blonde hair slowly started to resemble the above mentioned Ronald McDonald, a normal person with logic would have wiped that shit off immedietly.  Me? Well I just gave it an extra 15 minutes. 

Jumping in the shower and seeing the orange swirling around drain and come to the realization that my hair is not orange. I am ammused to say, that I kind of don't care.

Just your usual Wednesday night.

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Still Waiting..

Of course we have heard nothing on the house. I don't know what they are waiting for, but the longer we wait for it, the less chance we have of getting it. 

The seller has agreed to put in a mound system, but it's getting cold out, and if the grounds froze, no mound can go in. And if no mound goes in, the bank won't give us a loan. And if the bank doesn't give us a loan, we can't get the house. And if we can't get the house, I'm going to find the other buyer, and punch their two front teeth in. You have been warned. 

So here we sit. Waiting. Hoping. This next step is the last major step before we decide to have kids. And I want a house for a good two years before children, and I want children at 27. Do the math, I'll be 25 in November. No sweat.

I realize this pre conceived notion of what I think my life should be may be a little OCD, but hey that's what's going on in my head, good luck stopping it. Of course, Kevin does not have a life timeline that he tries to stick to, and it drives.me.nuts.

It's also one of the reasons I love him so much. So I'll just sit back, bite my tongue, and wait. And hopefully not too long, my patience meter is damn near out.

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Round Two (three, four, five...rest in peace)

Round two on the dream home. Italicized because this has absolutely become a nightmare. If my poor husband thought he was loosing hair BEFORE, ugh I can't even finish that. We are currently playing a waiting game, and the details at this point are so beyond ridiculous that no one would believe it.

She's another little charmer, with a whole lot of potential. There's not a lot left in her that's original, but there's enough there that if we make sure we use original pieces that we can hopefully pick up here and there, it'll feel like nothings ever changed. If only life were that simple.

In the last couple of years, I've lost more people than I feel is even close to being fair. Which number one, I realize is an eye roller, -fair-....hah! Two, this is hardly half the loss as some of those around me have experienced. But at some point, the pile of grief and frustration and loneliness of feeling just so lost in everything you do begins to suffocate a person, and I'm beginning to feel a weight on my chest creating a struggle to breathe.

A day short of a week ago my husband lost a high school friend, someone that while I hadn't had the chance to, 'grow to know' over the last few years as i'd like to say, was someone I was truly fond of. Brad Miller was the kind of guy that walked up to me every time I saw him, and treated me as an equal. As a friend he had always known. As someone who truly mattered. His contagious smile is stuck in my mind, and as soon as I see his face the sting of Amber, and Sara, and Ryan, all come to my chest.

The ordeal with Kevin filing with the state for unpaid wages and the waiting game with the DA on when the court date will be set, the constant up and down of we found a house, we're looking, we found a house, we're looking, the day to day struggle at a job where everyday you're told you did, well, eh, yesterday, try harder today, the constant cancer scans on my dad that hold your breath for a week or two waiting for results on whether or not the cancer has come back, the question of whether or not I feel we should spread my brothers ashes now or wait and hearing that my sister is ignoring my dad and not giving him an answer and him being stuck in a position of whether or not to move forward and risk her being upset with the outcome, or holding on to him for a little more - its just come to a point where enough is enough.

I'm very good at burying things. I like burying things. Feelings mainly. This life is not that terrible. I am very blessed. I have great friends, great family, a wonderful husband. I shouldn't complain. I stomach those complaints because I know someone out there has it so much worse than me, so why do I deserve to be sad? Why do I deserve to be depressed. Why do I deserve to cry. Why should I be anything less than happy.

I don't know.

I think that's what I struggle with most. I don't know what to do with my emotions. I don't think that its OK for me to feel hurt. I should be strong, an out stretched hand for everyone who needs a little help to get up the next day and face life with a strong sense of determination and happiness. I realize I can't fix people or situations, but for some reason I still feel like its my responsibility to at the very least try. And that certainly takes prescience over the mere 'crisis' that I encounter on a day to day basis.

But why? Why do I constantly feel like I have to fix things, be strong, don't cry. I kept tearing up at Brads funeral, and I immediatly stopped myself. "There are people here who were best friends with him, and I barely knew him. I don't deserve to be sad, this is there time." I will be the strong one. I will be the voice of reason for any emotion gone astray. 

I'm so tired that I don't even want to get out of bed anymore. My strength has stretched as far as it can go, and there's nothing left for me. That terrifies me, because this certainly is not the end of life. Life is going to continue to go on around me whether I'm prepared for it or not. What happens when another tragedy, or another insane obstacle gets in the way, and I'm emotionally not there?

I'm starting to wonder, what if I lost my husband? What if I lost my brother? What if I lost my mom or dad? What happens when something that's been happening all too frequently AROUND me, happens TO me.

These thoughts are exhausting, but I know that it'll all calm down and everything will be fine. I'm a firm believer that you are only dealt the hand you can handle, but my poker face is becoming less convincing. We lay to rest our loved ones, and wish they rest in piece. But what happens when all is said and done, and we're IN pieces? Where do you even begin to start picking pieces up, and how in the world are they supposed to fit back together when so many are missing?

 

That void scares me the most.

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My Wild Side

So the house is a no go. I could kick myself, and Kevin, square in the ass. It’s been a week since I told our realtor no and I already regret it. We bowed out gracefully from our dream house because it might be too much work. It might be a money pit. We might loose our asses. Sometimes, I really...REALLY..hate my responsible side.

I’ve always seen myself as this wild child. No rules, free spirited, do what I want..when I want..how I want. I’m starting to see that the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life lately is jump on buying a car I wasn’t sure I could afford. To be honest, I really wanted it..but I think it was more of a, I cant get a car..watch me..and watch me rub it in your face when the car I drive up is newer than any one elses. Now..I just hate that I pay $400 dollars for something that I have to stick in over $50 a week to use. Ugh.

I don’t know why I have this crazy perception of a crazy me, when in reality, I’m actually quite boring. Maybe that’s why when I get drunk, I become a ‘scrapper’ – brothers words. I don’t think of what’s going to happen in the morning. I don’t think of who’s feelings (or face) I’m going to hurt. Who is going to say what in the morning. But in the morning? Oh in the morning..why? What was I thinking? Is this how a 24 year old acts? Uh...YEAH!

I was smart. Actually, and it gags me to say this, I was responsible. I got a job after high school. I didn’t get knocked up. I was (semi) financially responsible. Got married. Waiting to get a house and be financially stable before having kids. Where in the hell did my 20’s go? In five short years I’ll be 30, and then I REALLY won’t have an excuse. So who is this prude alter ego that is taking over my life.

I come home. I clean. I make supper. Feed the dogs. Pay the bills. Go to bed by ten so I can wake up for work in the morning. On the weekends, I don’t drive too fast because I might get into an accident. I don’t drink too much because someone has to take care of everyone else that’s drunk. I don’t get too loud because we might bother the neighbors.

I can remember when I was younger, a hobby – and don’t you dare judge us – was to literally break into houses for sale to look around. Now we weren’t out breaking windows or kicking down doors. We’d just find one that was unlocked, or climb into a window. No thought of the repercussions if someone caught us.

I used to pick up my best friend, go down to the lake, and smoke a bowl. Then giggle when the park ranger drove past, wondering what he would do if we opened a door and let the smoke roll out.

I broke into a boy and girl scouts building with some friends, found a thing of gas, dumped it out on the front lawn, dropped a lit match and run off like crazy. Then, giggled like hell as we ran thru backyards, jumping over fences, as Cal Counties finest shone their spot like around trying to find us, driving up and down Lake Shore Drive. I woke up the next morning with grease, gas, blood, mud, and a tear in a pair of borrowed blue jeans.

And guess what? IT WAS FUN.

When did I become such a pansy? When did I start to think before I act? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?! My God I am so disappointed in myself. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to stop worrying. People will intentionally get me drunk when we go out, because then the worry disappears and they don’t have to worry about me telling them, this isn’t a good idea! Someone might get hurt! And if they do, so what? Life will go on.

I have lost a brother. I have lost a best friend. And I watched my younger brother cry at the loss of the love of his life. And I think it scared me to a point that I’m too afraid to even move.

I packed all of my things, and the day after high school graduation, moved down to Chicago. Only to be kicked out, two weeks later, and came home. Only to be dumped – run to my best friend at the time, who started dating my other best friend, and find out that she cared more about laying in bed with him strung out on pills then my breaking heart, my first real breakup.

I saw the pain my mom and dad went thru when my older brother died. The lost in their eyes. The grief was a curtain you had to push past to walk into the room they were sitting in. I saw their relationship become this beautiful thing that it had never been – where they leaned on each other, were kind to each other, loved each other. And then watched as that slowly imploded back into the screaming and crying and hateful spews of words that it was for so many years.

I’m afraid of life. Life is not supposed to be these things. Its supposed to be an adventure. You’re supposed to have fun. The sad and hard things are supposed to make you stronger, and a better person, and more determined to live a life that’s going to be full and have meaning. Instead, I’ve backed myself into this dark little corner where nothing can touch me. Nothing can happen. Nothing can go wrong.

I am determined. I am going to figure out what it is that I need to do to let all this fear go, and I’m going to do it. I am done being confined. I am done being scared. And I am so so done with playing it safe. Whatever it is, I am going to do it with a confidence that I’m going to have to dig deep to find. I AM going to buy a house, and if we get foreclosed on – throw my hands up and say “OH WELL!”. I am going to live a life that my kids will proudly tell stories about someday. My mom was cooler than you. I am going to have FUN with my husband, and my brother, and my friends that I care so much about. If I should go, or loose another person, I am NOT going to regret anything. Not like I do with the three I have already seen go too soon.

Watch out world – and my poor husband – the wild child is coming back. And you better believe, she’s going to raise hell this time around.

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This Little Gem

I have fallen in love, with a house. This little gem is a Folk Victorian, which means she's a farmhouse they added Victorian details to, to make her pretty like the Queen Anne's and Painted Ladies during that era. In other words, she is adorable.

2,100 square feet, four bedrooms, two baths, on 1.6 acres. What's great about this location is I don't have to quit my job. Can you hear the angels singing? What a huge relief. That catch....holding tanks. We're going back this Sunday and hopefully we can get some of our questions answered. To be honest, I'm one impulsive purchase away from calling this girl our home. 

I'm a big believer in karma and that things happen for a reason. Kevin has been working with the state to get travel wages that were not paid to him from a previous employer. This has been going on for what seems like forever. We never really expected to get money out of it at this point, it was more or less the principal. Sort of a, we're-going-to-teach-you-a-lesson-that-you-can't-screw-people-over kind of thing. It just so happens that with the condition of the house (she needs just a touch of TLC, seriously - my parents moved into a house with NO bathroom, just a touch..), the financing is going to require about $4,000 more on a down payment. Oh, ok. Yeah I'll just pull that right out of my top hat full of tricks and treats I keep under my bed. Since I seem to have lost that awesome hat, its to Daddi-o we go. Can I have $4,000? UNTIL...I go to get the mail today and find a letter addressed to Kevin from the state of Wisconsin. Open it, and its a letter addressed to his employer going over the findings of the case.

We were not able to prove this is owed, we are not able to prove that is owed, I'm really turning into a disappointing letter. Mind you, this case has really turned into something of a plot line for a really predictable movie. Without boring you too much, the employer would not send the documents the state was requesting. After months of them asking they finally issued a subpoena. Before the appearance in court occurred, however, the building started on fire, further delaying this whole thing. Yeah that's right, legit up in flames there go your hopes and dreams in a puff of smoke. So at this point, we were more or less just giggling that this was being drug out so long and the employer had to deal with it.

Originally we figured very roughly that Kevin was owed AT LEAST $4,000 (are you starting to see the irony in this? I'm going to type $4,000 a few more times, so if you don't get it now...you will). After taxes you can figure that would be three something thousand. I get to the last page of the letter, and I must have read it three times before a mosquito flew straight into my wide open mouth and brought me right back to reality. By no later than July 10th, please send a check addressed to Kevin Brault in the amount of $6,075.

Yup. That's right. $6,075. What does that equal after taxes? Oh I don't know, a little over $4,000. Get it?

Fingers crossed that we get good news regarding the holding tank situation (we really really want to be able to put in a mound). That's the first step. Lord help me if this is NOT meant to be our house. I might just loose my marbles at that point. Or give up the idea of buying all together. Or cry. Or all of the above!! I can multi-task very well.

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And here we go!

So! I'm going to start this again. I used to blog in high school, mainly because it looked like I was doing something (which allowed me to make it through two back to back study halls without doing a damn thing), but also..it was kind of fun. Plus, I sort of amuse myself from time to time, so it gave me something to look back on when I was bored and laugh at the sheer cleverness of the nonsense I had posted two weeks earlier. Cool.

Alright, who am I? My name is Brooke. I am currently a 24 year old, no college non graduate who is completely content with my decisions in life, despite what other people think about my choices (these people are just upset that their life is not as cool as mine). I am married to an AMAZING man (his name is Kevin, you might know him, he knows EVERYONE). I know everyone says that and how 'Oh he's my best friend!!'...yeah, whatever. My husband really is my best friend. See below.

See? We're not one of those beautiful couples perfectly posed in pressed pants that will have beautiful children some day. Our children will be Harley riding little smart asses, sporting Chucks on their feet, backwards ball caps on their little noggins, chucking up the deuce. But that's a story for another day.

We have two babies. Don't tell me that the pictures below are not babies but rather dogs. No shit. We don't have kids, so, these little devils fill that gap. Meet Diesel the asshole poodle, and Flying Flynn. Keep an eye out for future videos demonstrating how well he fits his name. They're fun. They're a handful. We love them.

So that's about as far as I'm going to get into this tonight. Tomorrow we have to get our butts out of bed before 10 (don't judge, its Saturday tomorrow and Kevin works second shift.....that excuse works for me too if you don't ask my hours) to go look at some houses. We need to get out of this rental yesterday before the neighbor lady from old rickety bored bitch hell decides to call the cops on us again. Moral of the story - throwing little petrified pebbles of dog shit over the bright orange snow fence into your neighbors yard makes you feel better. Oh don't worry, I'll explain the snow fence too.  

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