I HAVE FEELINGS THAT I DO NOT WANT BUT CANNOT CONTROL

I'm addicted to T.  Maybe it's because he's so different than the other man in my life, who can be cold, distant and indifferent.  T is so much more supportive, comforting, and enthusiastic about the person that I am.  In a word, he is more loving, and I can't get enough.


Does T actually love me?  I don't know.  But if you take into account his actions, he does.  T is always there when I need him.  Right now, he is my best friend, before any other--male or female.  I feel like I've known him forever.  The problem is that I'm having a problem with feelings for T that are getting out of hand. 


How did this happen?  I used to hate him. I used to catch T staring at me, and it would make me uncomfortable.  It was the way that he looked at me.  There were these long and probing stares from a man who didn't want to miss a thing.  No man ever looked at me like that;  not even my own husband.  I tried to ignore the attention and not think about how he made me feel.  But, he was slowly bringing me back to life, making me feel truly attractive for the first time in my life.


Now I can't stop thinking about him.   I want to look at him, smell his skin, be in his presence.   I enjoy his company.   I want to be with him, but not in the biblical sense.  I could just sit in the same room with him, and be content.   We wouldn't even have to talk.  


That's what scares me the most.  I am truly comfortable with him around.  Does that mean that I'm in love with him?  If it does, then I shouldn't be, and it's a problem.  God help me.

A HOSPITAL VISIT TO SEE T

Today, I dropped off Derek at Chloe's house and I visited T's room.  When I saw him, I was in shock.  I've never seen him like that.  He is always so strong, almost a towering figure, and today he was just lying there, asleep--almost helpless.  


I touched his head.  I couldn't help myself.  Suddenly he opened those steel blue eyes and was awake.  He saw my own teary eyes,  smiled and laughed at my tears and the concerned look on my face.  He tried to convince me that he was okay, but I hated seeing him like that, with cuts and bruises, looking like hell.  

Oh by the way, I finally met his "good friend", Trudi.  The one that actually liked the goatee that I told him looked ridiculous (and he did shave it off, by the way). She sashayed into the room looking every bit the model that she is.  Blonde, young and beautiful with everything in its proper place--and nothing plastic like Roberta.  She's practically perfect, body-wise, and who can compete with that?  Although, she did seem a little light in the brain area (does that sound petty?).  He introduced me as his neighbor next door, and she recognized my name.  Then she turned her full attention to him, like I was not even there. Since they have, on occasion, been more than friends,  I felt a little out of place, so I left.


I hope that he's in good hands, but I have a feeling that Trudi's only good for one thing.

T CRASHED HIS MOTORCYCLE, I CAN'T THINK STRAIGHT AND P LAUGHED AT ME

Oh God, T was in an accident, and I was frantic.  


I tried to hard to keep my cool about it as P gave me the news as if this was a man that we hardly knew.  P ate dinner, read the paper, and cooly said "oh by the way, did you hear that Captain America was in an accident?"  I tried to keep my composure, but my heart was lodged in my throat.  All I heard was head injury, and hospital stay.  I wanted to break down and cry.  I realized that I could have lost him just like that.

P didn't seem very concerned, like men get into motorcycle accidents every day.  He did say, "Thank God it didn't happen when Mark took Derek for a ride."  I agreed with him, of course, but decided not to remind him that Mark took me for a ride on that same day as well.  Guess that he forgot that little tidbit of information.  

When I asked for more information on the accident, he became aggravated because he was in the middle of watching his precious Phillies game.  He sighed and said "why don't you ask him yourself?"  I expressed doubts about visiting T in the hospital, and said "What would people think?"  P laughed out loud as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.  I guess he assumed that no one in the world would get the wrong idea.


What makes him so sure of that?  Am I that unattractive in his eyes?  Sometimes I wonder why he married me in the first place.  We hardly talk to each other, and when we do, it's about Derek or work--it's never about us.  As for sex, I might as well be a nun.


No matter.  I'm getting my wish.  I am going to see T at the hospital tomorrow, and with my husband's blessing.  

I MAY HAVE GONE A LITTLE OVERBOARD--TO SAY THE LEAST

I really should not drink. Really. My other blog told about my big night out with the girls, but it did not tell you everything. This is the rest of the story:

I was having a good time with the girls, it's true. But when I saw T walk in with his date, I could not keep my eyes off them. It took about an hour before the rest of the woman at my table noticed them, but I knew that he was there. Maybe I was jealous--I don't know.


Then the conversation was all about T, the neighborhood's "man whore". They talked about his dates, and the current one at his table. Then Roberta regaled us with a rumor that she had heard about him, and we it was decided that it explained everything about why he was so popular. I'm thinking on investing in a pair of binoculars, by the way. But, I know that I wouldn't have the nerve to use them, Roberta is right about that.


Fast forward about an hour. Roberta had teased me because I was drinking iced tea (among other things--she wouldn't leave me alone), so I decided to prove to her that I could have fun. Those young guys at the bar sent over the pitcher of shots, and I tried one. Then I tried another. Then another. I remember feeling a little woozy as I rose to walk towards the bathroom. On the way back, I stopped at T's table.




He immediately knew that I was drunk, as I introduced myself to his pick of the night. I think that I actually said "So, you're the latest pick of the night?" Classy, right? He has never seen me in that condition, so I think that he was in shock. I said some more things that I don't remember, and his date was ruined--I would like to hope that it wasn't intentional. I didn't like her--I know that for a fact. She kept giving me dirty looks. He deserves so much better than her. 


From that point on, I do not remember much, but I do know that he drove me home, and walked me to the door so that I didn't fall on my face. I remember thanking him and thinking that he was so damned handsome, and how I was so attracted to him. Then I somehow came to my senses. THANK GOD!


Fast forward to Monday at the home. While we waited for Frank to come back to the room, T told me that I hit on him several times on Saturday night--once making a comment about how big his hands and feet are (Chloe confirmed as much when I talked to her on the phone Sunday night. She said that I "wasn't myself" and should not drink shots anymore--Duh!) 


T teased me further by thanking me for a so-called "great night". He fooled me for a second, because I remember something that I said at my front door that may have been a little flirty. Eventually, I saw through his ruse. His date was waiting in the truck, and nothing happened. Then he mentioned something about the heart shaped birthmark on my tummy, and now I'm wondering if I was dancing on the table with my shirt off. How does he know about that birthmark? I've got to find that out, somehow.


Meanwhile, my head was pounding so much that it could have split a mountain in half. T convinced me that he could make it go away with reflexology. I was in no mood to argue with him, and I was in so much pain that I would have tried anything. I agreed to have him try, and it was working. I was relaxed, and comfortable, but soon I felt sensations in certain places. Shocked, I quickly pulled my foot back like an airplane retracting its landing gear. He laughed, and said that he didn't mean to do it. I blushed, because I am not so sure that it was unintentional. Why do I always trust this guy?


Maybe it was revenge for ruining his date? I don't know, but it does make me wonder.

ANOTHER FAILED SEDUCTION

I should have known that it would turn out this way.  I do not know why I keep trying, because every time Philip rejects me I feel bad about myself.  Makes me want to dive face first into a gallon of ice cream.

We don't even talk anymore.  Well, we do, but it's usually about work or Derek.  Nothing about us.  Right now, I don't remember what I saw in him to make me want to get married.  Maybe I just wanted to be settled down with a family.  I was twenty-four, and he bought me flowers and gifts all the time, and I thought that he was romantic.  I had no other prospects, and I overlooked my reservations.  

Maybe I'm just frustrated about another seduction gone to hell.

MY BEST FRIEND IS NOT MY HUSBAND

My other blog post, tells you about the day at the beach.  Now I'm going to tell you a little bit more about it. I just can't go into that much detail there, because I'm not sure who will read it.



T told me that I was more beautiful than Roberta (T is a friend of mine, and I will call him T on this blog). I laughed in his face because Roberta is, well how do I say it? Well preserved (by plastic or whatever), and looks very good for her age. She's always flaunting around in her perfect body, blonde hair and tanned skin. But, he said that I was much better than her. This is coming from a man, who on occasion, has dated women half his age (but not lately).


He called me Peach again. Now, I have heard him call me that before, but I finally got him to tell me why, because I was mad at him for calling me that nickname. My anger stemmed from a conversation on the beach with my so-called friends about sex and fruit. Supposedly, peaches remind men of women's butts. Never heard that before, but somehow I found this out without telling them that T calls me Peach. Anyway...


In order to save his life, (I wouldn't put it past him to call me a nickname that was perverted), he finally explained why he calls me Peach. His explanation for the nickname was sweet, and not perverted at all. He told me that he calls me that because I blush when I'm mad or embarrassed. The name also reminds him that I am a forbidden fruit (?). I was a little flabbergasted, because I didn't think that he thought about me at all in any fashion. I'm not really sure what he meant, but I think that he was flirting with me. Or maybe I'm imagining things. That's entirely possible, and it would not be the first time.


However, he did make me feel good about myself, and for me, that doesn't happen often. If P told me that I was "wasting away to nothing", like T said today, I would have taken it as an insult (it probably would have been an insult). T says it, and I'm flattered. Funny thing. I used to hate him, but now he is my best friend.

MY HUSBAND DOESN'T LOVE ME ANY MORE

Maybe I am wrong, or seeing things. Maybe I'm overreacting.  I just have this funny feeling that I am alone in this marriage.

When did it start? I guess that it was after my second miscarriage. P always wanted a big family, and was happy after Derek was born seven years ago. It was a happier time for all of us. Two miscarriages later, I feel defective and he has been more and more distant. Maybe he's disappointed in me because I can't deliver the goods. Maybe he has given up on me.
He never was really affectionate. Oh, he was quick with the flowers now and then, but those public displays of affection were few and far in between, if any. Jealously, I watch my friends and their husbands show their love for each other. I would take one passionate kiss over 12 dozen roses any day.

I guess this is the card that I have been dealt. I will keep trying to make this marriage work--play my role as perfect wife and mother. Maybe one day, he will look across the table and see me as someone other than the "help". I am a nearly desperate woman who needs the love and affection of a man who loves me.



My Introduction

I'M MORTIFIED, AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT...TO MYSELF

I had a bowl of ice cream today.  I needed it after a night like last night.  The day was okay, but the night?  Oh brother!

It all started when I was about to drive Derek to soccer camp in the morning.  I ran into Mark and he offered to let us use the pool after Derek got back.  I said no initially, because I was starting to get uneasy about spending time over there without Philip, and also about what Mark's ex-wife said last week (not to trust him), so I've kinda been avoiding him lately.  But it was an extremely hot day yesterday, I felt sorry for Derek, so I took him up on his offer.

Mark was not there when we came in, so I actually went into the pool with Derek, which I would never do.  I usually sit on the side and watch, but it was very hot.  Suddenly, Mark jumped in and popped up out of nowhere.  I don't know where he came from.  It seemed like only five minutes later that Philip arrived, home early from work.

Derek was so happy to see his Dad home early from work, and begged him to join us in the pool.   Mark offered to cook us dinner, and that seemed to break the cold silence that Philip displayed.  When Philip returned after changing, he brought me a swim t-shirt (I guess that it was a hint), and jumped in to played pool basketball with Derek.  He seemed to be having a good time, but when Mark left to start dinner, Philip's attitude changed.  He was cold and distant.

Dinner was a fiasco.  Mark served red wine with the steak, and Philip drank like there was no tomorrow.  Then he started to get on my case--telling me that the house is a wreck and that I'm slacking in my duties, or something like that.  He said that I've spent too much time at the beach (I tried to explain that it's the summer, but he didn't listen).  He was scolding me in front of Mark and Derek, and I was humiliated.

Then it got personal.  He practically laughed at my weight loss efforts, telling me that I didn't need to lose weight, and who was I trying to impress?  He actually brought up the fact that I unsuccessfully tried to seduce him the other day--he didn't say the exact words, but everyone in the room knew what he meant (except for Derek, thank God). 

 At that point, Mark started clearing the table to get away from the uncomfortable situation, as I was speechless.  When I finally got away from the table to help Mark in the kitchen, he was mad at me for not defending myself.   He was married for five minutes, for God's sake, and was not a very good husband from what I've been told.  He's the last person that should give advice about marriage being a partnership.  I told him to mind his own business, and he finally shut up.  At least I can get HIM to listen to me--but what good does that do?  He's not my problem.

Who does Philip think that I'm trying to impress?  Maybe I am doing all this to get attention from my own indifferent husband, who makes a sport of making me feel inferior.  Sometimes I feel that the less time I spend with him, the better I feel about myself.   It's a shocking admission, isn't it?  What does that say about us?  Maybe I'm just saying too much.

Whatever!  I don't care what he thinks.  I'm down 10 lbs. at this point, and I'm not going to stop. From now on, I'm doing this for ME!

DIET---THE MILLIONTH ATTEMPT

OKAY, I ACTUALLY LOST WEIGHT LAST WEEK!  THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID IT!

Five pounds.  It's not much, but I did not quit or break down all week.  I worked hard for that 5 lousy pounds.  No alcohol, no bread, no dairy, hardly any sugar.  You would think that there's nothing left to eat, and I did have some cravings--bread especially.  I didn't realize how much bread I ate regularly!

I exercised too!  Really!  I walked around the block a few times after Philip got home from work, and attempted to do the YOGA FOR DUMMIES tape that I've had for ten years.  I'm really proud of myself.  I actually survived the whole week without breaking down.  I think that I can do this!

SOMEONE SAVED MY LIFE TONIGHT

I looked away for a second, and that was all it took.  Then Derek was face down in the pool.  I froze.  Luckily, Mark was there to pull him out, and bring him back to life.  I almost lost my boy.

We were at Mark's house for dinner.  Me, Philip and Derek.  I was mad--forced into making dinner for someone I hate because of a favor he did for us.  It was the least that I could do, Philip said.  I wasn't thrilled about it.

Then after dinner, while Philip went next door to get something, and Derek swam in the pool, Mark and I got into a heated argument.  I don't even know what it was about anymore.  It all seems so silly now.  The argument continued until Philip returned, and then I realized that I didn't hear Derek anymore.  I turned, and to my horror, Derek was no longer swimming.

I screamed, and then Mark jumped into the pool, and with Philip's help, pulled Derek out.  He wasn't breathing.  Mark gave him CPR, and I never prayed so hard in my life.  By the grace of God, Derek was saved.  The man that I hated saved his life, and in turn, saved my life.  I will never forget it.

BIRTHDAY BLUES--WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

I'm thirty-six.  The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning as I looked at the gray streaks in my hair this morning.  How did this happen?  Wasn't I twenty-one two weeks ago?

My confidence is at an all time low.  I'm out of shape, and unhappy.  Sure, I've tried to lose weight--every Monday I start, but by Wednesday I'm back to the old routine.  I can't seem to get motivated. maybe I'm just in a rut.  Oh, I'm definitely in a rut.

Philip never looks at me in a sensual way.  Not that he ever did look at me the way that Chloe's husband looks at her, or the way that Theresa's husband touches her shoulder from time to time.   Philip was never like that.   Maybe I'm just jealous.  After ten years of marriage I feel like we just go through the motions every day.  I can't remember the last time we were intimate.  Then again, maybe I'm just overreacting. 

My friends, Chloe and Theresa are both older and are able to laugh off my horror about turning 36.  They've already hit the mark and passed it.  It's no big deal.  One more year--older and wiser.  They cay "Calm down Victoria, it's a part of life".  They don't understand.  They are content with their lives.  I wish that I could be so calm about this, and I'm trying, but I have a feeling that my best years are behind me.

I was supposed to have a big family by now.  Three or four kids. Even though I love Derek more than anyone or anything else in this world, I would have loved to give him a brother or sister.  It was not meant to be.  Two miscarriages later, I've pretty much given up on that idea.   I was supposed to be happy and content with a doting husband.  Maybe Philip resents that I can't have more children, and that's why he is so distant.  Well, that's what I think, anyway.

Chloe and Theresa tried to cheer me up today.  Big spa day at Chloe's house.  Mimosas, pedicures, massage.  I was actually enjoying myself, and was not thinking about my birthday.  Tried not to think about the idiot next door who has made my life miserable since he moved in, but could not.  The thought of him made me make a stupid mistake today that almost ruined my spa day.

I have to admit that Mark, the idiot, annoys me more than any other person that I have ever met.  I think that he pushes my buttons on purpose just to make me look like a lunatic.  It's like a game to him.  The sad thing is that I get more attention from that jerk than I get from my own husband. But I don't want the attention. I just want him to go away.  I wish that I could just ignore him, but he always seems to be around.  

TAKE THAT, YOU BIG FAT JERK

I finally showed up at the gym after Chloe's constant hints and suggestions--used that membership that had been gathering dust for the past six months, or seven.  Who's counting? We were on the treadmills and who walks in but the idiot.  Why is it that when you try to avoid something, you always see it?

I've been seeing him everywhere lately.  The grocery store, the front yard--he pulled me over once.  Did I mention that he's a state trooper?  I was really surprised when I handed him a PBA card that he signed himself.  Philip gave it to me, but never mentioned who it came from.  Talk about embarrassing. I felt like a stupid idiot. Philip shook his head, and said that he told me, but I swear that I never heard those words come out of his mouth.  I think that I would have remembered that the idiot next door was a State Trooper.

I'm getting off task here.  Anyway, back to the gym.  Theresa wanted to meet him, probably because she saw him take off his shirt like he was a Chippendale's dancer.  I agreed to do it, but then after I introduced them, I walked away because I didn't want to watch him show off his muscles and the screaming eagle tattoo on his right arm--I've seen that routine before, and I'm not impressed!  Big mistake.  He somehow invited himself to drinks at Spiders, which is the name of a restaurant in the mall where we usually hang out after the workout.  I was pissed!

But after Chloe and Theresa left the table to visit the Ladies room, I realized that a had a rare opportunity.  I was able to tell him what I really thought of him.  I did not hold back, and I think that I surprised him a bit.  I called him a thoughtless playboy and several other choice insults that seemed to flow freely from my mouth...everything that I have been thinking about and holding back since he moved in.  It was cathartic!  I feel like I've gone through therapy.     

Of course, he took his turn as well, and he wasn't very nice, so I ended up throwing an entire glass of iced tea in his face.  I really don't want to go into detail about what he said, but trust me, he deserved it.  Lets just say that it is amazing what comes out of his mouth.  I wish that I had soap.

Still think I won, though.  You should have seen the shocked look on his face!  You don't mess with Victoria Wilder!  Score one for the good guys!

MR. NEANDERTHAL SAVED ME FROM THE WEIRD GUY AT THE GROCERY STORE

My stupid neighbor, Mr. Neanderthal,  seems to be everywhere these days, and he's been screwing up my routine.  I'm all out of sorts, and it's his fault.

I guess that explanations are necessary.  I went to the grocery store, as is my usual Thursday routine.  I had a specific list for the coupons that I had clipped from Sunday's paper.  I was organized, as usual, and started in the produce aisle, when I saw the next door buffoon with one of his plastic lady friends giggling by the cantaloupes.  He had two held up against his chest and...oh, never mind.

She kinda looked like this

I tried to hide behind the apples, but he saw me, and introduced me to his brain-damaged friend  (like I could care less who he has been...with lately).   When she skipped away, I nearly laughed in his face.  What was she?  25?  She sounded like she had the brain of a mosquito.  Is this what single middle aged guys go for these days?  No brain, just body and energetic hormones?  Well, he pretty much said yes to that question.  Dumb ass.

At checkout,  I realized that I had forgotten my coupons at home, and the cloth bags in the van.  Somehow, ice cream and cookies made it into my cart, along with a Lindt bar.  Must have been my dopey neighbor.   He distracted and annoyed me.  When I am distracted and annoyed, I crave junk.  So, I decided to blame it on him.  Good plan.

I managed to make it out into the parking lot with an overflowing cart of plastic grocery bags filled with over priced items.  Doug  the "cart guy" was out there, who usually very nice about helping me load everything in my van.  Very helpful guy, and always seems to be around when I need an extra hand.  Always smiling.  He decided to scold me, pointing out that I should have used cloth bags because it was better for the environment.  Did I also mention that he could be a little annoying with all of his "tips and suggestions"?

I thanked him anyway, and waited for him to leave.  Unfortunately, he did not.  I thought that he would get the hint when I started the van.  He did not.  Instead,  he knocked on the driver's side window to get my attention. When I rolled down the window, he "helpfully" mentioned that he was "looking at my van before" and noticed that my inspection was overdue.  He was practically hanging inside the open window, which made me quite uncomfortable.  I was wondering why he had been checking out my van, and why wouldn't he get out of my face?  Suddenly he was too friendly--more like creepy.

Just when I started to consider running over Doug to make my escape, I heard a deep voice from the side of the van, behind me.  When I turned, I saw that it was the idiot next door and his brainless friend.  Guess I can't call him an idiot, since once he arrived, Doug pulled away from my window like he had gotten an electric shock, hitting his head on the way out.  He quickly said goodbye and got lost, gathering carts as he went.  Mark can be a pretty imposing figure, if you like neanderthals, and he did come in handy--for once. He's good for that, and fixing lawnmowers...I guess.  

I was grateful (and I almost said so) until he opened his mouth and started to talk, calling Doug a weirdo, and then I was compelled to defend Doug.  Why? I don't know.  I guess I just can't stomach agreeing with Mark.  I feel like I'm betraying myself, I guess.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  "Barbie" and "Dumb Ass" were washing his truck.  Don't know how they got home that fast.  They must have pulled right up and started to play with the water.  They got water everywhere, and of course, once I got out of my van, I was sprayed.  Probably intentional.  I tried to ignore the two of them, and get into the house as soon as possible.  

Unfortunately, he saw me struggling with the ripping plastic bags and offered to help.  I said no, of course, but he didn't listen to me.  He called over plastic girl and the two of them played "good neighbor" until all the bags were in the kitchen.  Did I mention that they walked through my clean house with their sopping wet clothes?  When he started to go through my bags, noticing the cookies, ice cream and candy, he started to make comments that Derek should not eat all that crap (I never said that it was for Derek, did I?)  Nevertheless, I had just about enough, reached my daily limit of tolerance, and quickly ushered him out.

Guess I should be grateful?  Maybe...naaah!  Still can't stand him.

THE NEIGHBOR FROM HELL

I've got the neighbor from Hell.

Okay, I guess that you've been waiting to see how my weekend went.   I have been beside myself.  I was hoping that it would get better, but it's not.  I just feel like I want to vent.

The "bachelor" has a playboy lifestyle...he always has someone different over there (not that I've been paying attention).  He invited us to a party at his house on Memorial Day weekend, with people and noise--young women everywhere.  I think that they were in their twenties.   I told Chloe that I felt like I was at the Playboy mansion.  She shook her head and told me to relax and not be so critical.  She was actually having fun at that party!  I told her that I think that he should grow up. I left early.  Came up with the migraine excuse, and then once I was home, I swallowed a row of Girl Scout Tagalongs.  The "Bachelor" is ruining my diet!

Philip tells me to mind my own business.  Give him a chance, he says.  I don't know what it is.  Maybe it's my mother's instinct, but I don't trust him. 

MRS. ANTI-SOCIAL?

I think that I might be classified as anti-social.

Well, that's what Philip thinks, anyway.  Let me explain...We've been invited to "the bachelor's" Memorial day party on Sunday, and I don't want to go.  Does that make me anti-social?

Yes, I don't feel comfortable around strangers.  I'm not very good at making conversation with people that I don't know.  Yes, I'm not particularly thrilled about being crowds, getting bumped around and having nowhere to sit.  Does that make me a pariah, or am I just shy?

I have my two best friends, Chloe and Theresa, and I'm happy with the two friends that I have.  I can depend on them.  I don't need other friends, especially not whoever is going to be at that party on Sunday.  They will be talking politics, or sports, or whatever gibberish of the week.  I'm not in the mood for it.  I would rather stay home, if Philip would let me.  But, he won't let me off the hook.  I have make nice and bring potato salad. I am so happy about that (that's sarcasm).

Nevertheless, one of my very best friends, Chloe will be at the party with her husband and son.  "The bachelor" invited all the neighbors, and Chloe lives a couple of blocks away.  She's actually looking forward to it.  I think that she's lost her mind.  My lovely (that's sarcasm too) next door neighbor on the other side, Roberta, will be there as well, and let me just say that the less time I spend with Roberta, the more sane I will be.  She'll probably be hanging out of her bathing suit, as usual, and hanging all over the available men at the party.  I really do not want to be there to see that.
Aargghhh!! I wish I had  bunker to hide out in this weekend.

Do I sound anti-social?  I don't think so.  I think that I'm just selectively social.

BACHELOR UPDATE - UNEDITED

When I found out that I was getting a new neighbor to replace the much beloved Girardi's, I was a little disappointed that a family wasn't moving next door.  There were no children for Derek to play with, and no mom for me to bond with.  My neighbor turned out to be a 40-ish year old bachelor, but I still figured that I'd give him a chance.

The jerk's bike look something like this

Well, on the night he moved in, there was a thunderstorm.  I should have taken that as an omen.  He was nice at first, but I eventually realized that I  don't like him.    (He's handsome, I must admit, but I would not go as far as the scouting report said.  Sure, he's tall--didn't really look at him that closely, but as he stood in my hallway dripping water all over my tiles, he towered over Philip).

Anyway, he turned me off as soon as he sat down at my table and started to talk.  I don't know what it was about him--his cocky attitude, his tattoo or the way that he thinks that his shit doesn't stink (sorry about that one, but I had not other way to describe him).  Just a stupid devil-may-care, who's cooler than me attitude.  He also has a staring problem that Philip didn't seem to notice.

Derek and Philip seem to like him--of course.  I call it a sort of a hero worship. He has this enviable (to them, anyway) bachelor lifestyle.  Women everywhere, a pilot's license (used to be in the navy) and drives a stupid motorcycle that he restored himself.  He even promised to take Derek for a ride in both.  I can tell you one thing--he will have to drive over my dead body.

MY MOTHER'S DAY GIFT WILL BE...

A PHILLIE'S GAME.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

I think that I have already stated how devoted a Phillie's fan Philip is.  The man is in front of the television set for every pre-game, and then game, and then post-game.  Our lives revolve around the Phillies during baseball season (and the Eagles during football season).  I have accepted it.  I don't like it, but I have accepted it.

But, Mother's Day?  We are traveling to Philadelphia on Mother's Day?  Why can't we just go to the movies, or dinner, or something else that is MY choice?  Why can't we go to a freaking Phillie's game on Father's Day, when it is his choice?  Oh no, Father's Day is the day when he gets the royal treatment.  He wouldn't pass that up.  Where's my royal treatment?

Of course, Derek is really excited about going to the game, so add in the Mother's guilt.  If I tell them that I don't want to go to the freaking game, then Derek will be disappointed.  I don't want to disappoint him, so I will keep my mouth shut.  So, I will be the one disappointed...again, for the sake of my family.

I REALLY WANT TO SCREAM RIGHT NOW!

NEW NEIGHBOR UPDATE--UNEDITED

Well, I guess that I'm not going to get what I wanted as far as the new next door neighbor thing goes.  Word has it that my new neighbor is going to be a forty-year old bachelor with no children.  Oh well.  I guess that Derek will not get his new playmate.

I cannot express how disappointing this news is.  That house is perfect for a family.  There is a pool in the backyard, where Derek used to play with his best friend.  There is a door in the fence that connects our yards.  

Now that stupid door will connect us to some stupid guy we don't know.  I don't like this one bit, and I've told P as much.  Of course, he doesn't care, even if the guy might be some kind of lunatic, because I was interrupting his watching of a freaking Phillie's game.  Did I tell you how much I hate baseball? (Not Derek's games, of course)
  

this is not him (I don't think)

 
I'm sure that he's very nice, but this is like the worst case scenario.  I can only hope that he is quiet and keeps to himself.  I'm not very optimistic.

HE VOLUNTEERED ME...AGAIN!!!

Let me just start by saying that I have certainly done my FAIR share of volunteering.  I always help out at church functions, school functions, and work the snack stand at little league games.  I have baked my share of cakes, and made lasagna and baked ziti for families in need around the community.  I visit the old age home regularly and read to the aged.  

I have no problem with volunteerism.  I'm pretty damned good at it.

But, I have to admit that I'm getting a little tired of Philip volunteering me for things without my knowledge.  He must think that I have nothing else to do, or that I have no life of my own.  What does he think I do around here?  Lie around and eat bon-bons?  

Then, when I get annoyed, he acts surprised.  He says something like "Don't be selfish".  How could he say that I'm acting selfish?  Why does he say stuff like that?   It's so unfair.

Don't be selfish?  Is he kidding me?

I just had to vent.

VICTORIA'S DIARY - HEARTBREAK

The Girardi's have moved, and poor Derek is a mess.  

Here is the latest post on my other blog, Victoria's Diary: HEARTBREAK