January 18th.

It's funny, when you really look back, to see just how interconnected things are. Small, minute decisions (deciding to go someplace when you didn't really want to, waking up a half an hour late, etc) can make a huge impact on the course of your life. Some people call it the Butterfly Effect, the idea that a seemingly small thing can create a large reaction (a butterfly fluttering its wings on one side of the world can cause a hurricane on the other). I just tend to call it fate; the universe.

When I first moved back to Bloomington and started embracing my sexuality, I started by reaching out on the Internet. It was a safe haven for me, a place I could really be myself and be saved from a lot of the more obvious judgements on my life. One of the sites I stumbled across (after seeing a sign in the bathroom of the Bistro) was for a bisexual group in Central IL. After perusing, and eventually joining, I met a multitude of interesting, fascinating people. Many of those people I still talk to now and, although I won't "out" them, are still an important part of my life in a variety of different ways.

One of the people I met through my Internet travels was one Miss Amy Lambert. She remains to this day (although we rarely get the chance to interact) a creative powerhouse and one of the people who continues to inspire me so so much to keep writing and getting my voice out there. A few years later, she wrote me an email that would change my life.

That, my friends, is how I met one Jenny Mandel.

It turns out, because of this email, Jenny and I were friends on Facebook for nearly a year without any communication. We saw a year's worth of each other's status messages, of each other's innermost thoughts and feelings, without any back and forth conversation.

Then, one day, the stars lined up in exact perfect formation for that to change. My relationship had just gone down in explicit, flaming fashion and I was reaching out for someone. The person that reached back for me, that fateful day in November, would be the person who would change my life in every possible way.

I am so lucky to be in love with a person who loves me, despite all the hell we went through to get to where we are now. She drove to see me at my first bout as a derby girl, two hours away from where she lived, just to support me (at her own personal emotional cost). She's stuck by me, helped me up when I stumbled, held me when I've cried, dealt with a wealth of emotional bullshit that she didn't deserve... all with grace and tact and dignity.

I am so proud to have been able to love her for a year today. A sometimes tough year, a year of laughter and tears and hugs and a love that I could have never imagined in my wildest dreams.

I am even more lucky that she loves me back.

I've never been one to plan the future. But, looking at her, I see so much. I see marriage, kids, a house with a big backyard. I see laughter and conversation, I see support and strength and unconditional love. I see my soul reflected back in her eyes.

Happy anniversary, Jenny. One down, many more to go.

Priorities.

My life is fast paced. I used to have an odd, obsessive compulsive urge to empty my DVR; to keep it as bare bones as possible. Anything over 10 - 20% full had the possibility of sending me into a panic attack, deleting programs (mostly my girlfriend's, which drives her crazy) until the level gets down to a more manageable amount.

Today, my DVR is about 60% full. I rarely watch TV anymore and, when I do, it's mostly just on live in the background while I try to clean and organize in my rare "downtime."

My house has definitely gone on the back burner in terms of importance. There are dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor and papers on the kitchen table. Although, at times, it does tend to stress me out, I look at it like the physical proof that I'm putting myself and my family first.

I grew up in a clean house. I mean, clean. Spotless. My mother was not the type to put up with messiness and, as a result, I never had to do my own chores. I never vacuumed right, etc. So she did everything herself and ended up making me feel like I couldn't do anything right.

But it is what it is. I'm 30 years old now and blaming my parents for my issues seems less and less cute the older I get. Now, my house is either messy or clean. Neither one has too big of an effect on my self esteem. I'd rather snuggle with my daughter on the couch or cuddle up against my girlfriend in bed before she goes to work than do the dishes or fold the laundry.

Priorities, priorities.

Breathe.

I haven't been writing much lately because I've actually been reading. My life hasn't gotten any less hectic but I've been making time to cuddle up on the couch with my daughter and read.

For Christmas, my mom got me a picture of my little sister and I when we were smaller, snuggled on her lap, reading together. It reminded me of a time when we were all close, when I was young and innocent and the world was my oyster (who says that? Really? Where did that come from?!). Although my life is still busy, I've remembered how important it is to just take a minute out and breathe.

Why does that seem to be so tough? At my day job, one of my coworkers handed out cards with our "theme" for 2012 on them. We chose randomly. Mine said "Sometimes, the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths." Nailed, right? I am so so guilty of just rushing through life, going from one job to the next, one title (mother) to the next (lover), etc.

So do it with me... innnnnnn........ outttt....... Again. Now close your eyes. Feel the breath in your chest. Remember who you are. That you're here. That you're really alive.

We're all lucky to be here, right now, in this moment.

*** Side note, in case you're wondering, the "world is my oyster" quote actually came from Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor. Now we're all a little bit smarter!

Parenting or something like it.

I remember vividly the moment my daughter was pressed, pink and tiny, into my arms. The nurses walked away and I remember watching them leave, feeling both love and terror at the same time. Parents always joke with new soon-to-be moms about there not being a manual, but I'm not sure how seriously those pregnant woman really take those words of advice.

Parenting does not come with a manual.

There is no test required to become a parent, no list of things you have to check off before being allowed to conceive. You can be young, old, stupid, a genius... anyone with a sperm and an egg to rub together can procreate.

If you ask me, that's a goddamn shame. But nobody really asked me.

I sit here, 10 years after that shining life change, still wondering what the fuck I'm doing. I'm working two jobs, roller derby, my girlfriend... and I worry that my daughter is the one suffering. How much time is one supposed to spend with their child? In what ways?

On an average day, I see my daughter from the time I get off work at 4:45p to the time she goes to bed at 9p - 9:30p. Then there are derby days, Mondays and Wednesdays, when I'm gone for another 2 hours. And the weekends she's with her dad. All in all, I see my flesh and blood 10 hours a week.

It makes me feel like a failure. It makes me worry that we're going to turn out the same way that my mother and I turned out, barely talking and going weeks and sometimes months between seeing each other.

The thought makes me nauseated. But I'm not sure what else to do. I'm trying to pay off a student loan that is suffocating me. I do roller derby for my sanity, to keep myself active, but even that fills me with guilt sometimes. I often feel so alone with this parenting thing, with this fear and confusion, that I don't know what to do with myself. My partner works nights (that's a whole other blog entry) and she is amazing with my (our?) daughter but I feel like I'm thrusting too much on her as well.

I'm not sure this blog entry has any sort of point other than to vent, but tonight I feel like venting. I just wish I knew how to forgive myself.

Strength.

I meant to write yesterday, to christen 2012 with a shiny, new blog entry, but instead I spent it doing all those things I was so resolute to do less than 24 hours before. I cleaned and organized my living room. I cooked pork chops with sauerkraut and apples. I took a shower with my girlfriend. I enjoyed being in the moment, even starting to clean my daughter's room before she gets home tomorrow. It was a relaxing and productive day.

I don't know what the rest of 2012 is going to bring. But what I do know is that I finally feel strong enough to handle it.