It is time

It is time ...for me to let this out.

Most people would never guess this about me, but I have a problem making friends. I'm not talking about acquaintances, hanging out with people, eating dinner with people who know a few things about me. I'm talking about serious, close, heart-to-heart friends. I'm outgoing, and always try to make people feel welcome, but seldom does that lead to a very close, can talk about anything type friendship.

Some would probably say this certainly is not true, that I'm friends with them, but I would argue and say that they don't know anything about me, except they know who I'm married to, or that I went to State, or that I have about 30 "sisters" from my sorority in college. All of which you could figure out with Facebook. Yeah, I have a lot of "Facebook friends."

I have a serious problem with making close friends. And recently (as in the past 5 years) it seems that every time I'm on the verge of making a really close friend, they move. I have one friend who has been there for 12 years. Through thick and thin, little and big, boyfriend after horrible boyfriend until I found my husband. And she lives 4 hrs away, so even talking to her, a single mother with too little time on her hands, is difficult.

Too many times, have friends who I thought were really close, turn out to burn me. One who stole my boyfriend (who I thought I was going to marry) in High school, one who tried to steal my husband when we were engaged, those who think they're making jokes at the expense of people's feelings. Not even my "sisters" in college are that close me, spare one.

And now that I'm married, making friends seems to be even harder, even though I thought it might be easier. Making friends with married women seems to start off easy, because there is someone to keep my other half occupied. But usually sometime shortly after the 10 min "How have you been" conversation, it turns to "Oh I never did THAT" and there I go, putting up the wall and the acquaintance bandit strikes again. Single women seem to always say "Oh but you don't know about that, you're married" like that's the fix-all to every problem. Hate to tell ya, but marriage is just as hard as being single.

Why is it that every time I start to make really close, stick-by-you friends, they move away. Maybe I should just pack up and follow those really close friends. I'll move to Winston-Salem, or to Ohio, although I have a feeling that psychologists would say I'm "running from my problems." And that might be, but it sure would help ease the pain.

Sometimes, I think it would be amusing to list all my emotional problems to a psychologist. The problems would be too long to list in one 1-hr session I'm sure. I could probably keep one employed for a long time, just off my visits. But, I'm sure it would hurt to bring up all the dirt, the baggage, the things I choose to forget, and hopefully never remember; the things no one knows, save my husband and 12-year friend from home.

So, sorry if you came to my blog to get your dose of humor, because it's Monday, and because I'm a person of extremes. It might just be that it's Thanksgiving and I'm thankful that most of these bad situations have come and gone, but it also brings up that I still am dealing with issues that I keep tucked deep deep in the back of my mind. A place no one wants to go.

Let there be HEAT!

On Tuesday night, we finally turned our heat on. You're thinking "Wasn't Tuesday the day that we had snow flurries??" Yes. It was. That is the defining day that we finally decided that hoodies, layered clothing, and socks were no longer cuttin' it. Half way through November is when we decided to turn on our heat.

I never really noticed just how cold my feet got without heat, until I went to sleep and the sheets around my feet started to freeze. Or John's leg would brush up against my foot and He would immediately gasp at the frigidness. I started taking extra long showers, because stepping out of a hot shower is a thousand times worse when you have no heat.

I've slept the past nights with socks on, and since turning on the heat, I pull off my socks in the middle of the night. Honestly, I never even remember this at all. I wake up, and there are my socks, right beside the alarm clock.

Now, our thermostat is set at 66 degrees. This makes the 72 degree "normal" feel like a sauna.

Glorious wonderful heat. How I missed you. I am so glad you are back in my life!