Sabotaged.net

Headed South

When I roll out of the driveway tomorrow evening, the bike will have 31,230 miles on it. Wonder how many it’ll have on Sunday night when I return.

In The Light

I can’t help but wake up this morning with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Over the past month the following have occurred:

• The semester was finished out with all “A”s - even math!
• The keys to the apartment were turned in.
• A promotion was received at work.
• I went round’n’round at the Heartland Park Topeka during a track day and made improvements on my abilities.

For the sake of keeping my brags to myself, lets just say that school ended on a really high note. At this point, I have tentatively swapped my major over to Public Administration and need to sit down with an adviser at Washburn. I’m penciled in for my Fall classes, but I want to double and triple check with Washburn to make sure that I’m not going to be taking anything I don’t absolutely need. Once that’s done, I can just write them a check and be secure in my Fall schedule, which will be very similar to the one I just completed.

Last Tuesday I went into the apartment after work with a vacuum, some cleaner, and a roll of paper towels. I went through each of the rooms systematically and cleaned any surface that dared to be dirty. Once complete, I vacuumed each room from the back to the front until I backed myself up to the entrance. This left that “someone just vacuumed every inch of this place” look. By the time my tasks were complete, it was too late to return the keys to the management office. So, I returned on Thursday and handed them over. My mail has already been forwarded for a few months; the electricity and the cable Internet are scheduled to be turned off; and all of the necessary paperwork describing my intent to move out had long been submitted. This means that I am done with that apartment. It lingered as an awful reminder of how this past winter went and I am so relieved to be out from under it. This leaves my head much more clear.

Since January 7, 2008, I have been able to move through the lines of business at work with relative ease. We have “modular training” that we run through from time to time. With each “skill set” that we learn, we must “certify” in it before we can move on. Thus far, I have learned four and will be going back into training for the fifth this month. This last particular skill set is entirely different from the others and should be a ton of fun. I’m definitely looking forward to getting into it and seeing if I will be able to handle it smoothly.

Because Monday of last week was designated as a national holiday, I actually got the day off work and I got to spend it at the track. Though I spend a ton of time at HPT because of Phil’s racing and track days, I rarely get to spend my own time on the track. In fact, this was just my second track day. We spent a few hectic hours preparing my bike for the track - it got new shoes, taped of head & tail lights, the fairings were stuck back on there, and it even got washed! I should give my bike that kind of treatment more often. All of these things helped me to work my way safely around the track. I had no issues, only a few minor bobbles, and made good improvements on my entries & exits, apexes, body position, speed, and overall control. I left the place wanting to hug everyone - and did.

At this point, that is how I am feeling day in and day out. I want to hug everyone. Not just small embraces - rather, huge, squeeze-you-until-your-eyes-bulge clasp. I’m calm, cool, and just loving everything right now. Hopefully I can continue this natural high without much interruption. I’ll be leaving for Texas on Wednesday after work.

Mother’s Day Isn’t For Me

A few weeks ago, Mother’s Day came and went, and it wasn’t without tears as usual.

Normally those tears are over my own mother. Not because I miss her, but because it’s just a reminder that I don’t have a mother to honor. I always send special cards to my Grandmothers and even called Phil’s Grandmother to wish her happy mother’s day. But I still feel like I’m lacking.

This year, the tears were also for my relationship with Zoe. We were up late the night before at our friends’ house. She got to stay up late and play with kids her age, while us adults were hanging out in the Man Garage playing games and acting goofy. Sunday morning rolled around and she was zonked out. The kind of sleep where her mouth is wide open, drool oozing from the corner of her lips, and she doesn’t move an inch when you softly say her name and rub her arm in an attempt to wake her. Originally, I had hoped to make pancakes and eat breakfast with her. But, due to her deep sleep, I let her go until she had a half hour to get up and around before her mother picked her up.

Per the Kansas Child Support Guidelines, if other arrangements cannot be agreed upon, the mother is to get her from 9am to 7pm. Everyone else in her life is ignored, despite the role they may play. So, I silently played by the books, woke her up, fed her, and clothed her before there was a rapping on the door at 9am. I got a big hug and kiss and she was gone.

I went about my day, looking forward to making a nice dinner and sharing about two hours with her before she was to hit the sack again, as the following day was designated for school. About 6:50pm, Phil’s phone rings and it’s Zoe calling from her mom’s phone wanting to know if she can just stay the night. I try to tell Phil in the background that she needs to come home so that we can spend some time with her. Eventually her mother gets on the line and they argue before Phil agrees to let Zoe stay because that’s what she wants.

The frustrating thing about this is that her mother wins her over with cheap junk food and video games. Tales from the child indicate on all levels that all she does while she is there is consume hot dogs and play Wii. In the unlikely event that she’s not doing one of those two things, her mother is buying her various material items of no value or dropping her off at Grandma and Grandpa’s, where she also does little to nothing but sit in front of the TV.

It is no wonder Zoe would rather be there, than at our home. Here, she eats vegetables, goes entire days without the boob tube on and interacts with others. She is given tools of creation like chalk, water colors, legos and blank drawing paper. None of these things are visually stimulating or mind-rotting as endless episodes of Hannah Montana or the mountain of children’s DVDs that she has that dwarf our small collection of DVDs. They just don’t compare.

When asked if Zoe had eaten dinner, her mother replied, “Yeah, she had a Lunchable.” Way to go, mom. I guess she’s getting some variety from the usual hot dogs and Mac & Cheese.

It didn’t seem that at any point she had considered that we wanted Zoe home for the evening. Nor did she seem to think that maybe I’d like to see her on Mother’s day. Perhaps she forgets that when I entered Zoe’s life, five years ago, she couldn’t walk up the stairs without gripping someone’s hand. That I’ve spent countless hours putting small clips and crazy pony tails in her hair. That I’ve snuggled with her on the couch and rubbed her back during coughing fits, puking binges, and various bumps and scrapes. I’ve spent five years dealing with temper tantrums, the ailment of childhood fears, and the neediness of a toddler. Or that I’ve been one of the last things she sees before falling asleep when she’s here, because I lay down and read Curious George, Skippy John Jones and Walter the Farting Dog to her.

Or, worse: Her mother considered all of these things and still didn’t see any reason to bring Zoe back to our house on Mother’s Day, but instead let her play Wii Mario and barely interacted with her before sending her to bed.

Either way, I ended up in tears. I don’t feel like I ask for much in the mother-daughter field. I know she’s not mine. But I was really looking forward to that one dinner.

A+

Since I have re-enrolled into school, I have found myself frazzled over grades on several occasions. Today, I found myself explaining why: they are my shining stars. My GPA is a 4.0 and it is the thing I am currently most proud of. There is nothing else in my life that is solely mine or that I have worked on with very minimal help from others and fared so well. The few other accomplishments that I can hang on my belt, I share with others and I was merely a sidekick to the project.

I don’t have any other particular field that I excel at. I’m not a spectacular family member, nor am I a trophy wife that someone is proud of, and I’m a dangerous motorcycle rider at best. I try to garden, but even my easy-to-please hanging ivy is turning brown and crusty. In earnest, the only thing I haven’t killed is my cactus. I’m limited by my knowledge of how to do things and my physical ability to do the few things that I understand how to do. (And I am hyper-aware of those limitations.) No one comes to me for help building their deck, fixing their computer, or explaining why something carries more mass while spinning at a high RPM.

But, I can research the hell out of Joanna Baillie, Aristotle’s Rhetoric and volunteerism. I can properly lay out an MLA-style bibliography. And I can knock a literary analysis out of the park. I spend a lot of time formulating essays, double checking my algebra homework and writing detailed notes for upcoming tests. For the most part, I’m really proud of the outcome and am trying my best to keep it up.

On My Way Home

“Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Last Saturday night, Phil stated that I should come home. Being that we were both well on our way to getting inebriated, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him I wouldn’t hold him to it, should he not feel the same way the next day. We continued the night and filled it with friends, beer, and the smell of roasted Michelin tires. I was able to not mention the topic throughout the next day. We were sitting at the dinner table, stuffed with biscuits and gravy when I threw it back out there on the table. I half-way expected him to apologize and say that he wanted to wait a bit longer before having me move back.

Instead, he took my hand and told me that, yes, he does in fact want me to come back. Even while sober.

I kept a dry eye then. But, it’s easy now to get choked up about it. No one else has ever made me feel so much like I belong with them. I’m very blessed to have someone care for me the way he has and does.

Now, I can check Topeka off of the list of places I’ve resided in and don’t care to ever return to.  I’ve started the process of moving back. Updating my address again, looking at my options to get out of my rental agreement, and returning the few items I unpacked back to their cardboard boxes. I bet no one else in the world has ever been this elated to move to Carbondale, Kansas.

Nights like this make me hope that tomorrow never comes. I feel so bad about who I am, my insecurities, and how worthless I can be. I deserve all of this loneliness.

Your Brain on Math

Interval notations. Quoefficients. Adding the opposite. Graphical answers. Properties of reflection, equality, multiplicative inverses, and distribution. Linear equations. Nonzero numbers. Isolating variables. Ratios and proportions. Inequalities. F = 9/5C + 32. Solution sets. Phantom 1s.

Sidney Noble again

All of this turmoil has shown me how capable I am on my own. Looking back at my actions through the months of October through December strikes me as out of character for myself. I’ve been alone for so many events and changes in my life. Why did this one event turn me into such a mess? I couldn’t function most days; sleeping as much and as often as possible, not eating, trying to squeak by at work without notice. It wasn’t me.

Realizing again that I’m capable of being alone has restored my confidence. I’m back to charging ahead, stepping up the ladder at work and blowing through my classes.

I’m at an impasse with my future. Over the past four years, I’ve known exactly what I was working for and what was in store for me. Now, I’m very unsure but not as distraught over it.

There have been so many days in the past month where I wasn’t sure where I was woke up in the morning. Some days, I’m in the apartment with Rocky snoring off to the side of the bed. Other days, I’m at the house, pressed up against Phil. Neither place is home. It takes me a few minutes to assess the situation and figure out if I’m coming or going. Will I be sleeping in the same place later that day?

It has become stressful driving to and from both places, constantly packing and unpacking my car, eating out so much because it is difficult to keep food in both places. Stress aside, it is worth it to spend that down time with him.

All in all, it is relieving to feel like my old self again. I feel like I’m hot on the trail of many good things in each facet of my life. And I don’t know if it would be possible to be any more grateful than I am right now.

MAT020

Yesterday marked the first day of classes for my Spring of 2009 semester and my mind is already blown. After running around both Shawnee and Osage counties like a maniac, I rolled into classes about five minutes early and grabbed a seat three rows back. After the usual round of introductions, we started into the lesson.

Now, let’s back up. Here’s more of the “putting it all out on the table” jazz. I’m, embarassingly, way below college level algebra. I tested into an Elementry Algebra class. I will have to complete both it and an Intermediate Algebra class before I can even get into the college level class. This is all my own fault, as I failed and cheated my way through math in high school. After years of putting it off, I’m now paying for it. But there are about 17 other people in my class, so at least I’m not alone.

Thankfully, the professor decided it would be who of him to quickly cover some of the basics; he defined things like “quoefficient” and explained simple things like “rational numbers vs. irrational numbers.” It was nice to have a refresher on things I haven’t seen, read, spoke of, or used since 1998.

Then he dropped the bomb. We were subtracting mixed fractions with two different denominators. And he told us you never subtract in  math.

What? Never? Not even when you’re cornered? He just destroyed everything that was taught to me K-12. Every math teacher I’ve had taught addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. No one has ever told me that this subtraction business was all a lie. This is like strange sorcery that I’m only to learn in a no-name college in Nowhere, KS with 17 other people too stupid to test into a class that actually counts toward your degree.

I’m happy to report, however, that  I at least understand his reasoning about only ever adding a negative number. It makes sense. I can handle that concept. But this is an interesting sign of things to come, I believe. I’m anxious to see what I continue to learn in this class.

A Re-introduction

An anonymous poster in one of my comments is correct. This site used to be an open book, chalk full of things that I probably shouldn’t have been so forthright about. I had all but forgotten about how much I used to enjoy writing on this site until I saw the annual payment come out of my checking account for the hosting service. Though I haven’t hardly touched the site in years, I still consider it money well spent. I’ve had sabotaged.net since 1997 (I think) and can remember nearly all of the things I’ve done with it (partially because most of it is archived away on my hard drive).

I have a knack of holding on tightly to the few things that really matter to me - things I’ve invested in. I still own this site, my first car, a few projects from high school that I was proud of, and a relationship with a Tall Guy. As feelings have become more raw and exposed, though, I’ve become prone to spending time alone and keeping said feelings to myself. Although that may not have been the correct route to take, it is the only thing I can do to keep from getting hurt worse.

Ironically, I’ve done a lot of things in the recent past to keep myself from getting hurt … and those things have bit me in the ass. So, I figure it’s now time to come back out of the shadows, quit being such a loner, and lay it all out on the table.

I’m living alone right now, in a one bedroom apartment in Topeka. I shouldn’t necessarily say “alone” because I have Rocky. However, regardless of the excited wiggles and bouncy dog that greets me every time I walk in the door or roll off of the air mattress in the morning, I’m overwhelmed with sorrow when I realize that I don’t have the Tall Guy to come home to, wake up next to, or curl up with. With him in my life, I felt like I had purpose. My days were fulfilled because I could share them with someone. My future appeared bright and brimmed with things I looked forward to. And I constantly felt loved, wanted, and warm.

The way our relationship fell apart has been, without a doubt, the most emotional turmoil I have ever delt with. My weight dropped to 111lbs (which on a 5′10″ frame looks disgusting). I went two-three days at a time without sleeping. I’ve had pneumonia since Thanksgiving. And I’ve ended up on several of my friends’ door steps bawling numerous times. I have never felt like such a failure before. Not even when I was actually failing out of high school or giving up on various things. This relationship was something I have tried in earnest to hold in the highest honor, with the most energy, time, and thought I’ve ever invested into anything. And I ruined it.

Well, we both ruined it. And, we’ve acknowledged our faults and can hopefully repair them and us.

In the past few weeks, I’ve done less crying, more working, and have had to rediscover the things in my life that make me happy, without having him next to me. For a while, I thought I had lost all of the things about myself that were worth while. I could remember a time when I had things about me that I was proud of, but I couldn’t remember what they were. All I could see were the facets of my personality that I am ashamed of - lying, controlling, fearful, and an complete inability to have faith and trust.

It’s taken me a while to get my strength and confidence back. Though, they’re not in full force, or even up to par, they’re back. I know that the things I don’t like about myself can be fixed. I’ve improved so many things about myself since I was a teenager - there’s no reason to stop improving now. I’m not into all of the self-help crap, but I won’t skip an opportunity to make myself better … not just for me, but for the people I want to be the best for.

So, I’m working on myself now. And I’m sure that the rest will come later.

Last semester I aced my classes at school - retaining my 4.0 GPA. Monday, I enrolled into my classes for Spring 2009. I’m taking a full load of courses, including math, English, computers, and sociology. After the Fall semester I should be able to transfer all of my credits from this college and Palomar, in San Marcos, CA, to a local university in hopes of finishing my BA. I switched my major from Sociology to Business in an effort to make myself more well rounded. I have a goal of getting a Masters in Social Work and plan to obtain it.

I’ve continued busting my ass at work. In fact, I’ve immersed myself into work to help pass the time, take my mind off of the pain, and move up in the world. In December I received two raises and a promotion. I’m due to return to training soon to learn an additional skill set. I’m doing my best to make my days productive and network with the right people. This is one of the only places I’ve ever worked where I feel like I truly have the ability to go where I want to within the company. As of yesterday I have been working there for one year.

The American Red Cross of the Greater Topeka Area is allowing me to volunteer with them. This has been a slow process, as I attempted to start volunteering with them about a year ago. I had a lot of troubles getting my schedule to mesh with theirs and ended up giving up after a month and a half of phone tag. While a United Way campaign swept through my work, I made it a point to seek out and shake hands with the (new) volunteer director. She has made every effort to get me started with them.

As soon as they release their 2009 disaster relief training schedule, I should be able to start taking those classes. I don’t foresee myself being able to do any disaster relief on a national level, as I would have to be able to commit to three or more weeks of being away. I would like to be able to assist on the local level (Northeast Kansas). I’m both calm and rational in a disaster setting and am certified in first aid and CPR to adults, children and infants. So, I might as well put all of that to use. Plus, we’re always having floods, fires, tornados, etc. here. It seems like it would be best if I helped those that need it.

As far as pure pleasure goes, I’m waiting with anticipation for Spring to hit. I’m working right now to make myself a ton of maps for roads I need to ride on the bike. I have a ton of money now to spend on weekends traveling and new tires and chains. Over the past couple of years, I haven’t traveled nearly as much as I used to. And it’s time to fix that. I’m anxious to see all of the places I haven’t yet. And I plan on taking my camera with me to rekindle my love of picture taking.

All in all, I’ve grabbed back a hold of the things I love doing. I think being alone has allowed me to focus on that. After all, I have been investing so much of my time, effort, and money into others (something I’m happy about … I love taking care of others). But I do acknowledge that it’s caused me to forget about myself a little.

So, here’s to being Sidney Noble. Hopefully the end result of this whole awful experience will be a better me, back home, with the person I’m so deeply in love with.