A Surprisingly Sane Blog

Sometimes, I miss dancing.

But then I remember why we ended that chapter of our lives.

My sanity is worth everything to my beautiful family. The “dance world” was a horrific bipolar trigger that we could not find a way to integrate into our lives in a healthy way.

We still dance – but for fun. Alone. In our beautiful new house on our beautiful wood floors. And we perform for our girls’ school occasionally. It’s enough.

Sometimes, I miss it. But most of the time, I am just so relieved we made that choice.

Current Mood: Cool

The hypocritical nature of utlra-conservative so-called “Christians” disgusts me. They preach Jesus but forget His teachings. They condemn everyone else’s choices but refuse to look at their own cruel judgment and un-Christ-like behavior.

I say give ‘em a bunch of assault rifles and throw them on a deserted island with a Walmart, McDonalds, and Rush Limbaugh and let them continue their miserable lives amongst each other.

End Rant.

I didn’t have internet for a month. A FREAKING MONTH.

Okay, I half-lied. I still had my iPhone. Whatever. No computer internet equals internet deprivation. Pat me on the back. I survived. Sort of. Barely.

Truth is, we moved about a month ago and I am just now finally feeling the stressful tension breaking away slowly, bit by bit. The stress of selling house, buying a new one, moving twice in two weeks, living temporary in a hotel, and trying to keep one’s bipolar head on her shoulders has been no easy task.

First world problems, I know. Get over it. First world or not, stress hurts… and I am allowed to say it’s been hard.

Current Mood: Cool

People are weird. I’ve never understood them. I’ve decided I never will, and I am okay with that because despite all the crap, there really is good in this world.

I will never understand why people say nasty, untrue things just to stir shit. Is it jealousy? Is it because they have some kind of mental disorder? A skewed perception of reality? Whatever the case, it is flat out ridiculous. I watch it in wonder and have no trouble turning away and never looking back. Some folks are just assholes, and sadly, those of us who call ourselves assholes aren’t the real ones.

I will never understand PMS. I’ve never had a problem with it. My period doesn’t make me feel crazy, and it’s not a big deal to me. The gods know I’ve had enough “crazy” in my life aside from PMS, so maybe they just took pity on me and gave me a free pass on the menstrual psychosis. While I know that plenty of women experience PMS and worse, I just don’t understand it. To an extent, I think some use it as an excuse to be a nasty bitch. Read that again: I did not say *you*, I said *some*.

I will never understand some people on the internet. It’s almost as if because they can’t actually see a human on the other side of the screen, they forget an actual person is reading their words. Hell, I’ve been there. You know what I did? I ate crow. I apologized. Again and again. And again. I apologized genuinely and sincerely, and I admitted with complete shame that I was horribly wrong. I am forever humbled by those mistakes, and that’s how you know I am actually human. But some people? I have to wonder if they are truly insane – like, do they think their computer sprouted multiple personalities and those personalities don’t have feelings? It’s either that, or they’re truly horrible, awful people. Sad. And pathetic. I’d prefer to believe they truly belong in a padded room.

I will never understand how someone can watch Fox News (or any American news station, for that matter), and think what they are seeing is truth and fact. The stupidity seeping through some folks’ tiny minds is astounding.

I will never understand why some people think it’s acceptable to yell whenever the hell they feel like it. I hate raising my voice. It’s damaging. It hurts people. It’s unprofessional, and it’s unkind.

I’d say there is no hope for humankind, but then I am forever reminded that there is genuine goodness amidst all the pathetic jerks out there. Our 6-year-old daughter walked by a homeless man begging for money downtown last weekend. She couldn’t stop looking at him. After crossing the street, she looked at James and said, “Daddy, I have a nickel in my pocket. I want to give it to that man.” James took her back across the street so that she could give the man the only money she had with her. She told James afterward that she wanted to help the homeless people and would bring more change next time she was downtown. There was no prompting of that act, it was just pure empathy for humankind at its finest and purest form.

How’s that for incredible? Moments like that and people like my own daughter remind me that despite all the crap I just cannot understand, there really is goodness in this world, too.

We closed on our house today. Last February, we set a 1-year goal to move out of our house, and somehow, we managed to meet that goal.

An odd sense of overwhelming sadness washed over me as we walked through our beautiful home of three and a half years for the last time. The Brazilian Cherrywood floors, bowed with age at the walls. The narrow staircase on which I’ve taken numerous spills. My lovely kitchen and black-and-white checkered tiles in the laundry room. My upstairs bathroom with the vintage bear-claw steel tub. My huge covered front porch. I’m not a crier, but I couldn’t stop the tears.

*sigh*

It’s a beautiful, warm house, but we needed to move for numerous reasons. While I am not happy to leave my home, I am excited about the gorgeous new home that we close on next week. Selling this house was just a necessary part of moving forward.

For the next week, we are staying in a extended-stay-like hotel suite. Tonight is the first time in six months that James and I will be able to crack open a bottle of wine and inhale the reality of THE END of our seemingly endless struggle that included replacing a roof, having new posts installed under a 113-year-old house, replacing and repainting exterior dry rot, plumping issues, landscaping, two failed inspections and failed sales, a wonderful Licensed Professional Structural Engineer who assured us that the house was just fine, and finally, buyers who fell in love with the beautiful blue house with the red door.

They will be happy in their new home, but so will we in ours. It is difficult to say goodbye, but sometimes it is necessary so that we can welcome the better opportunities that present themselves in life.

It is certainly bittersweet.