Mystery revealed.

And the winner is.... (with the closest guess).....

Jennifer, with her guess of North Carolina!  Andrea came in a close second, with her guess of New England.  Please e-mail me your address, little Ms. Good Guesser, and I'll send you something pretty.

We're moving to West Virginia, after escrow closes on the house.  We'll have a small yard, but it will be big enough to have a compost pile, and a garden.  The girls will be able to play out back, and hopefully have a swingset.  We'll be able to paint the walls, and replace carpet, and build shelves.  It needs some work, and some love, but I think it's beautiful and magnificent, and I can't wait to get there.  We will have a place that is ours, and ours alone, in which to build some great memories.

This is the realization of one of my biggest wishes, and I'm so thankful to have this chance to make it something great.

 

Panicking just a tad.

Are you sitting down for this?  Yes, you probably are.  I mean, who reads blogs on their computer while standing up?

Ready?

Okay.

We bought a house.  Or rather, a house was bought for us.  (I like the former better because it makes us sound more like adults, and evidently that's a desirable thing.)

Guess where?

You'll never guess.

I'll tell you what, you guess where (and I will not accept answers from people that already know, so no cheating), and the winner, or whoever comes closest, will get a prize.

Something shiny and pretty and made by me.

GO!

Full circle.

If someone would've told me a year ago that I would have Marissa's stepmother come and stay at our house for a week, I would've laughed in their faces and told them that smoking that much pot is bad for their brains.

If someone would've told me a year ago that not only would Marissa's stepmother come and stay at our house for week, but she would come for TWO visits, I would've recommended that they see a REALLY REALLY good shrink.

I've had several conversations with my friends over this, and each and every one of them says what a good, forgiving person I am for letting the past go, and moving forward with my friendship with this woman.

The thing of it is, I don't really feel like a very forgiving person.  I mean, I'm not swallowing my pride or anything by having her in our lives.  I'm not letting my anger go so that she and Marissa can continue their relationship.  I'm *not* angry at her, and I've dealt with my issues about this whole situation a long time ago.

I thought it would be crazy and weird to have her here visiting, but it wasn't.  At all.  In fact, we were all sad to see her go.  I cried when she left, and wished she could stay.

I know it's been hard for her, since her divorce with R, and it's been an issue that she's "technically" no longer Marissa's stepmother, even though that's what we all call her.  Bryan and I sat down and talked about it, and we asked her to be Marissa's godmother.

I know, we're not religious or anything like that, but the intent is the same.  If anyone is close to Marissa it's her stepmom, and I feel like she should have a permanent title, and a place in our family.

I'm blessed to have her in our lives.  I wish we could've been friends long ago.  I wish she lived closer to us.  I wish (and I know THIS is crazy) she could move in with us and be here all the time.

I don't just consider her Marissa's godmother.  I consider her my friend, and not to get all sappy and stupid or anything, but I haven't done a great thing here.  She has.  And I love her for it.

Like one of those bad, bad dreams.

Our room mate is currently without a car, since she broke hers (by running it into another car... evidently they're not made to do that?) so she gets rides to work, usually from her dad.

The problem is that her dad comes and picks her up from work at the buttcrack of dawn (the time of day, not the person), so our room mate sometimes has a hard time getting up for work.

Like, today.

The doorbell rings, and I thought it was my mother (since she's supposed to come over today), so, like a JACKASS, I shot up out of bed, in my pjs, without my glasses, and answered the door.

In my defense, I hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet.  I wasn't fully awake, and I couldn't see for shit.

Lo and behold, but who am I greeting, half dressed, at my front door at 6:30 this morning?  It is none other than my room mate's dad.  Of course I couldn't see him, so I had to squint and get EVEN CLOSER before he said, "Um, hi.  Is [insert room mate's name here] ready to go?"

OH SHIT!

I stumbled upstairs (silently cursing myself for not grabbing my glasses or my robe) woke up my room mate, and then ran and hid in my bedroom.

All I have to say is, THANK GOD I was wearing a bra.

I reunioned, and survived.

I had my 10 year high school reunion on Saturday.

Let me say that again.

My TEN YEAR high school reunion.

Yeah.

It started out being pretty damn lame, and ended up being only slightly lame, which I consider a win.  It was very awesome to see some of these people again (one fellow band nerd flew out from Nebraska, and it was SO GREAT to see her there), but there were a ton of people that a) I didn't recognize, like, at all, and b) some people that reminded me why I'm so glad I'm over the high school thing.

Everyone complimented my hair, and said I looked good for having 3 kids.  People remembered my name, and came over to talk to me.  Carrie (my best friend) was my date, and I don't think I could've gone to this thing without her, because I knew that with her there, no matter what, at least ONE person there wanted to talk to me (and having a couple of stiff drinks at the bar really helped).

So, in conclusion, I think I got a lot of closure from it.  I have gotten the opportunity to prove to myself that I'm a kickass person, I reconnected with people, and looked good doing it.  Would I do it again?  Hell no.  Am I glad I went?  Yes, yes I am.  It certainly could've been worse.