mynewplace

Hi ya'll! I’ve added several new friends lately, so I figured I’d give a bit of journal introduction.

My name is Anita, and this is my journal. It’s my entire journal, I don’t post anywhere else any more, and I don’t even GO much of anywhere else any more, web-wise. You should know that I differentiate real life from email/internet/phone/snail-mail only contact. I don't make web-friends and real-friends be SEPARATE, I merely identify them differently to keep them straight in my head. It’s nothing personal, it’s simply the way I compartmentalize my life. Keeps me sane, so leave it be please.

I love my Live Journal, and I love my friends here. I’ve met some AWESOME people here, and a few who weren’t so awesome, and some who are now mere memories. I’ve got a best friend in real life whom I met here through an LJ friend that neither of us speak to now. Betcha can’t guess who my best friend is, based solely on the last five posts.

I have widely eclectic entries, I make occasional/frequent LOLcat posts, and gratuitous icon posts. I don’t normally post as many photos as you see in the last few posts, but when I have ‘em, I post ‘em.

I’m a single mom, never married. I’m past 40, and not pleased about it, but it beats the alternative. I’ve decided that this is the year I start counting backwards, and will thus be 40 again in a few years. I like to write. Stories don’t appear here as often as they once did, but poetry still raises its fuzzy head from time to time. I don’t know, I’d have to ask my friends if I’m a frequent or occasional poetry writer. It comes in spurts. I LOVE to read, and I love to talk about religion. Now don't bring your nasty "We hate you" stuff!! I want to know more of "This is how I believe. How do YOU believe?"

I am on medication for depression, high blood pressure, and had a couple of girly-things done this year that were supposed to keep the monthly hag at bay, but haven’t really managed to do so. I was also sterilized this year, and I have a mixed bag of feelings about that. I’m getting over it, though.

I am a secretary in State Government, have been for just over 10 years. Longest I’ve ever held a job, because I have a tendency to be flaky. This also means I don’t make much money, and I don’t manage it well and often spend it inappropriately. Did I mention I have a tendency to be flaky? Good. I’m trying REALLY hard to manage my money better, because I want to get married and have a home before I’m fifty. I’m getting REAALLLLLY resentful about growing older with no ring. And that's all I"m sayin' about that.

Characters in this journal include: The boyfriend, aka Brent. We work together, have known one another for about 4 years now, dated exclusively for over a year. He writes poetry and songs, sings, plays drums and records with a couple of friends in a startlingly professional basement studio. Rarely he writes in his Live Journal,

the_drumgodusually when he’s high. Yeah, he gets high. I don’t so much. He drinks WAAAY too much, but has no abuse issues, so I ignore it for the most part because we don’t live together. I didn’t start taking high blood pressure medication until I began seeing him on a regular basis. THAT’S an interesting connection that I try to ignore. He’s younger than me, never been married, and is terribly spoiled and childish. He’s also a lot of fun, thoughtful and soft hearted, affectionate, giving, loyal and protective. I love him very much, and I’m convinced he’s in my life because God is teaching me my lesson in unconditional love. He (God) also appears to be teaching Brent his lesson in being worthy of love and learning to get over yourself and get a life. Some of us are learning lessons better than others. We’re both ~~victims~~ products of the 70’s independent fundamental Baptist movement, which included an unnatural lust for fried chicken, casseroles and sweet iced tea. I like to call it "Washed in the blood and chicken grease." We are still recovering.

The daughter. aka Scarlett, Mary Scarlett when she’s nasty, or MSC. She is freshly turned 12, boy crazy, growing mad boobies, and stressing me like a mutherfucker. She’s in seventh grade, has a high IQ and low to medium grades, which is an improvement over last year. She’s gifted in writing, dancing and acting the drama queen. We both suffer from her Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, but she’s currently the only one being medicated for it, except on occasion when my mother gives me a Lortab or a Valium. (tag-MSC)

The baby daddy. My daughter met her father after her ninth birthday, when he finally found a wife with enough balls to contact me and ask me for permission. His wife and I get along very well. He and I? Not so much. I LOVE SMART MEN. I have never tolerated stupidity well, and his is certainly no exception. He has two daughters younger than Scarlett, and a stepdaughter the same age. Scarlett is currently boycotting weekend visits at his house because he yells a lot and it makes her nervous and makes her cry. He also limits a lot of the time she spends playing or outside when she’s there. She isn’t used to constant control of every move. The visitation is court ordered, but neither he nor I are willing to force her to go. I am, however, occasionally willing to force her to visit my mother. Like this weekend. He has his own tag - assdaddy.

Side note: ECKO Red leather tennis shoes for $70 and Coach purses that were practically free make her father pissed, which tickles me TO NO END! Why? Because he’s a former WalMart employee who still shops there. And I fucking hate WalMart because of the way they treat their employees, and refuse to shop there. Do you see where this is going? Good.

My mother. Oh joy. She is an overbearing, overprotective, controlling woman who ran my life until I hit about 35, and has still not managed to give up complete control. I’m working on it, believe me! Years of therapy, facing and then hitting 40, and getting a boyfriend allowed me to grow my own set of balls which I am currently using to break the last of the apron strings. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom. But MAN she has no boundaries. Sometimes I fail miserably at cutting those apron strings, because I am a State Government employee and therefore am poor as a mouse. This means that frequently I go to my mother for food and financial aid. This also means she buys a lot of my kid’s larger needs, such as shoes, coats, braces and the occasional dance class. I didn’t even TRY to kick in with the braces, but I do get her shoes, etc., when I can. My mother has been helping with my child so much that she and I have lots of tug-of-war issues regarding my daughter’s behavior and upbringing. So yeah, lots of help from her and resulting attempts to make me, or make my kid, behave a certain way. Can we say guilt? Sure we can.

Sarcasm. It’s what’s for dinner.

My dad. I hardly ever even post about him any more. Haven’t seen him in over a year. Got lots of grief and guilt over that too, until gas prices rose to over $4 a gallon (He lives in North Carolina). Then all of a sudden? A phone call is fine, honey. He hasn’t been here to see ME in more years than I can remember. Surrrrre, he came to see his sister-in-law, and drove right past my exit on the way back home. I used to have a lot of guilt about my lack of respect for my father, because he was my father. I’m getting’ over that, too.

There is one other major player here.

kokopelleigh , aka Leigh, is that best friend I mentioned up top. We are moral, emotional, and sometimes financial support for one another. She’s awesome people, with loads of her own angst, which makes us PERFECT friends!

Damn. Who knew this would turn out to be a life story? I guess I did. But these are the things you might like to know while reading along here on the roller coaster that is

sapphirescarlet . Please don’t bother to keep your hands and arms inside the car – touch me! bwaahahaha

EDIT: Oh dang it! I plum forgot! I am also a moderator at