<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:00:36.269-05:00</updated><category term='Just Checkin&apos; In'/><category term='Adult ADD'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='Dating and Being Single'/><title type='text'>vetver</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-8539777039740515012</id><published>2010-01-09T21:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T21:50:31.609-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Checkin&apos; In'/><title type='text'>Heritage</title><content type='html'>Today I started researching my ancestry. There is a lot of documentation about my father's lineage, but I have not found much from my mothers. Today  I found an immense document about my maternal grandmother's line and am looking into that to start participating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss having a blog. I have not done much online for a long time in this way. I guess I don't like the permanence of it in a way. I used to only write for myself to work out negative emotions. Now I'd like to write for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shall see how it pans out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-8539777039740515012?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/8539777039740515012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=8539777039740515012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/8539777039740515012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/8539777039740515012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2010/01/heritage.html' title='Heritage'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-2695680139046897968</id><published>2008-12-26T18:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:48:24.022-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult ADD'/><title type='text'>Reading ADDitude Magazine</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Sometimes people with ADHD are so used up trying to cope with the stresses of everyday life that they need extra quiet/alone time and sometimes avoid social contacts. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-2695680139046897968?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/2695680139046897968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=2695680139046897968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2695680139046897968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2695680139046897968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/12/reading-additude-magazine.html' title='Reading ADDitude Magazine'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-3153392481606539726</id><published>2008-09-29T22:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:43:15.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Checkin&apos; In'/><title type='text'>Yuck</title><content type='html'>I'm the saddest woman in the world today.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I'm going to sleep soon.&lt;br /&gt;I hope tomorrow is better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-3153392481606539726?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/3153392481606539726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=3153392481606539726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3153392481606539726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3153392481606539726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/09/yuck.html' title='Yuck'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-3604763629803097715</id><published>2008-09-27T22:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:43:15.441-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Checkin&apos; In'/><title type='text'>I don't know what subject to put. Who cares.</title><content type='html'>One thing I don't like about blogging is the permanence of it. I am so tempted to delete posts once I am over something or have moved to a different place with it. &lt;br /&gt;That is also what makes me hesitate to write more... I have deleted entire blogs before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wrote the last post when I was angry. I don't know if I was correct in my observations or not. After all, skilled Narc's are incredible con men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do know is that regardless of that, I gave it another chance, then ended it again today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very sad and I believe I was in love. yea yea grateful for the experience. So what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely a head vs. heart thing. The man was just not healthy and able to be part of the type of relationship I wanted to have. Too much bitterness from his last outing I guess? Or sheesh, he might have been simply unable to be honest with himself and thus anyone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave it a chance when there was remorse and the promise of doing what it takes to prove trustworthiness. That promise lasted a couple days then he changed his mind. A week into it, he hid something while looking at me. Deep breath - yep. While looking right at me. That is a bit far from where I am with honesty and a partner today - a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling cynical at the moment if you couldn't tell. When I told him I needed to end it, he found a quick way to make it my fault. OK. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see. 17 years on the internet and this was the first time - the first man - to inspire me to actually delete profiles off web sites, remove photos, and make private my photos on the only site where they exist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This experience has pretty much made me not want to date anyone online ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-3604763629803097715?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/3604763629803097715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=3604763629803097715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3604763629803097715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3604763629803097715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/09/i-dont-know-what-subject-to-put-who.html' title='I don&apos;t know what subject to put. Who cares.'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-2584345156262565413</id><published>2008-09-13T10:38:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T20:39:21.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dum</title><content type='html'>unreal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-2584345156262565413?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/2584345156262565413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=2584345156262565413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2584345156262565413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2584345156262565413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/09/textbook-narcissist-and-sex-addict.html' title='Dum'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-4789553124089747930</id><published>2008-09-03T14:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:46:54.076-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating and Being Single'/><title type='text'>A taste</title><content type='html'>"You know, the life I had before you - I knew how to do that. I could do that forever. But now look at me. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do with all this?" Erica, "Something's Gotta Give"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have the time now to do this topic justice. I am in love. I am amazed. I have only known this man about 3 weeks and I could picture us spending the rest of our lives together. No, I'm not kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems to click... emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically. And I have fallen for his little daughter. Our families fit together...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The catch? c'mon, it's ME. You know there's a catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has to move away for work. There's no way I can move unless I leave my children and I can't do that now, no way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I feel though? &lt;br /&gt;Gosh. I would consider changing visitation to week on/ week off to be with him at least half the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know me, you know this is very very unlike me to even think this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never before thought about the word soulmate. I know it is way too soon to know for sure, and who knows, I may look like a fool any time for saying that. But gosh, we have yet to find any incompatibility, and every moment - every single thing I learn about him - I know we have only barely scratched the surface and there is SO much more for us to explore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the question is.. will we get to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-4789553124089747930?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/4789553124089747930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=4789553124089747930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4789553124089747930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4789553124089747930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/09/taste.html' title='A taste'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-3887734305962493211</id><published>2008-08-14T04:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:46:32.724-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>I hope I never forget this time in my life. I hope I remember ever single little detail of every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is filled up every moment I spend with my three children. Son, 12; daughter, 9; and son, almost 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I meet someone new, and tell them about myself, I get to revisit everything again. The surprise of my youngest was once the scariest and most devastating dilemma and now the impact his presence has just been so amazing and nothing I could have predicted at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is late. I don't stay up this late very often... I fell asleep early a couple times this week so I guess I was due. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope all who read this are feeling good about their lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-3887734305962493211?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/3887734305962493211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=3887734305962493211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3887734305962493211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3887734305962493211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/08/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-1146276076719746760</id><published>2008-03-25T17:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T17:25:10.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally back</title><content type='html'>It took a comment being sent through for me to realize I once again had control of this domain. I still have not received any email about transferring control of it to GoDaddy which is where I have all my other domains. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The header still needs to get a home, and that will occur soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news... life continues to transition in some intense and frequently painful ways. I am not sure where it is all leading, but it has got to be good. Just got to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;- get it in writing&lt;br /&gt;- be careful who you show the truth&lt;br /&gt;- be who you strive to be and take pride in that&lt;br /&gt;- accept when you aren't&lt;br /&gt;- last.fm is my next social networking footprint&lt;br /&gt;- I can't decide what alias to use for such things &lt;br /&gt;- relax&lt;br /&gt;- take a breath&lt;br /&gt;- reach out&lt;br /&gt;- you don't know what you have until it's too late&lt;br /&gt;- not I... I don't take a thing for granted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is full today. My mind has a few close and distant tracks. I want to be alone. I want to be in communion with those I trust. At the same time. I feel poetic in a way I normally do not. I want to do things I cannot. I feel the urges and yet I can only look and not touch. There is much sadness in the acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That may make sense to no one but me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found something old the other day, written by my last love... I could not relate to where he was then. I can now. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am that I put more on him then than he could take. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand now TXB, I understand now.&lt;br /&gt;I understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{{{{}}}}&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-1146276076719746760?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/1146276076719746760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=1146276076719746760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1146276076719746760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1146276076719746760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/03/finally-back.html' title='Finally back'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-9145190039982047722</id><published>2008-03-05T14:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T14:14:16.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Google Apps and no customer service</title><content type='html'>There is some confusion with my domain name... thanks to Google Apps. I purchased vetver.com from them and have had trouble getting it renewed! I have written them 3 times now with no reply. Great...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-9145190039982047722?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/9145190039982047722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=9145190039982047722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/9145190039982047722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/9145190039982047722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2008/03/google-apps-and-no-customer-service.html' title='Google Apps and no customer service'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-5032703456845715391</id><published>2007-10-10T23:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T23:55:18.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you have any hobbies?</title><content type='html'>Do you ever blurt out an answer to a question, feel embarassed and then try to make up for it by embarassing yourself even more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I had a blunder the other day that has been haunting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Business situation and I felt I was on my game. See, I get so enthusiastic about things, that the little girl inside comes out, and I am naturally open and expressive so staying 'professional' can be a tough chore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I get asked a question that took me by surprise "Do you have any hobbies?" and my very first thought was "I have 3 children. No time for hobbies!" but I didn't necessarily want to reveal my full personal life situation at that moment. I said it anyway "my kids" and then I think OH they are going to think I am not committed enough to work, so I then want to explain how I have a lot of dad help. And it goes on. It goes on. I can't believe how much I said and I shudder thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually do have hobbies! I write. I volunteer as an advice columnist on a local web site. I help chemically dependent people. I love baking. I love architecture, local history, photography, art and antiques, and I love to research and learn more about any topic I am curious about. I am also pretty good at Letter Linker, my nighttime get sleepy hobby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't I say that? Huh? Huh????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-5032703456845715391?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/5032703456845715391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=5032703456845715391' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/5032703456845715391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/5032703456845715391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/10/do-you-have-any-hobbies.html' title='Do you have any hobbies?'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-6345869633373434135</id><published>2007-10-10T21:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T22:00:57.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding a home, anywhere</title><content type='html'>I am not exactly sure why I titled this post this way. But I am dealing lately with a situation I have never faced and one I probably can't talk about in detail. It has to do with someone who seems threatened by me, and has the power to alienate me as a result. It is working as I seek other shores to land. I may have found one - not sure. I made a blunder and we'll see if how much it hurt me... my candid and open nature can often put people at ease... at other times it just makes things uncomfortable. Hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, as so regularly it seems, I feel as if I'm on a boat at sea and cannot yet see where I will land. This is becoming almost a comfortable place for me ...? I don't know. I withdraw into myself at night and want to speak to no one... I treasure my naps when I can get them to rest and reset. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am one of those people that when I describe some of the things I have been through, I hear 'wow that is a lot, you must be very strong' and I think - oh no, I'm really not. I have no idea how I get through things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss and I went on a nice meeting today where I really got to show my value to our company. This was needed. There has been some conflict with priorities and changes since I was hired about what is considered important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need an anonymous blog again. Maybe one day I will create a moniker I love as much as Vetver, maybe it is time to retire that. I went a little domain crazy and own about 10 domains now, or something like that. Mostly my children's names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway rambling now, later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-6345869633373434135?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/6345869633373434135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=6345869633373434135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/6345869633373434135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/6345869633373434135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/10/finding-home-anywhere.html' title='Finding a home, anywhere'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-2950656480764637116</id><published>2007-10-04T19:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:44:19.713-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating and Being Single'/><title type='text'>Dating vs. Relationship</title><content type='html'>I write about dating a lot because it is the area of my life that is the most confusing this year, for a few reasons. The primary one being, I have changed. But I seem now to keep meeting people who are like I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For several years, I relied on my romantic relationships and my partners to 'make me happy'. Though I seemed giving, deep down when I finally got really honest, I was always thinking about what I was getting out of it. I could not be OK if my partner or relationship was not OK. I was, in essence, extremely codependent and I didn't really know any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2002, I met a very wise woman who taught me another way to live through my recovery program and the 12 steps. She taught me about how my foundation had to be on a Higher Power and not on myself or the other people in my life. So, for five years basically, I have been trying to learn more and practice this way  of life. I have not been perfect, and I have learned over and over that my own power - my mind and heart alone - cannot fix me, or make me change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is through simply turning things over, and having faith that whatever God is out there has a plan for me, that has given me peace and and entirely new attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other big change is that through the same process, I developed and examined a set of values and standards for what kind of partner I want to share life with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important value I want to share with someone is a reliance on God in all things and a daily striving to seek and live God's will. Sometimes the practice of this is just a simple attitude towards life - that I'm not in charge, and I don't have to control things. I am also adamant about not letting priorities get out of balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeking a partner who has values and standards has been entirely futile. I decided last April that I would put forth some effort into meeting people, and so I put a profile up on Match.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Experiences were mixed, but of them, no less than four people wanted a relationship with me after the first date. One of them kept on swearing he didn't, but his energy and attention towards me and 'us' showed me that I was much more of a priority in his mind than I was comfortable with. And this alone showed me that he did not share some of the most important things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really, what is up? I said to a friend recently - where are the men who are tired of clingy/needy women? Where are the independent single dads with jobs that have a thousand things to do each week, and would understand that I do also? Where are the men who believe you must get to truly know someone before you dive neck deep into a union with each other where you share your daily lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasn't anyone ever heard of "dating" ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened to this institution?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think is that our society is filled with people seeking instant gratification to be ok. Maybe they see that I have confidence and independence and they want some of it. Maybe they also haven't met anyone with priorities and standards so they see me as unique. Maybe because I am not needy, but deep down they want to be needed, it puts in place some kind of pursuit mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure don't know. But after 5 attempts at dating in the last six months, I am single again. I may just stay that way. I see why people say "friends first".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-2950656480764637116?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/2950656480764637116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=2950656480764637116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2950656480764637116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2950656480764637116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/10/dating-vs-relationship.html' title='Dating vs. Relationship'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-7154758195440000765</id><published>2007-10-02T18:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T19:25:12.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Respecting Intuition</title><content type='html'>There are so many things I could post to catch this blog up with the last month of my  life, but right now I am thinking about intuition... that gut feeling that nags you with its voice reminding you about the shoulds and shouldn'ts, the do's and don'ts of your life.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I think back to one of the most life-changing events in recent years, and I cannot remember my gut ever stopping me in those moments that you would think I should have known better. Two days later, when I was sad over some things, I definitely got the message that I had stepped outside of what I think my values ought to be... but really? I was in it whole-heartedly at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I ended a brief relationship (5 weeks) mainly because I could 'sense' something was not right with the situation. I kept giving it another chance, and every day I would think 'no this is not right' and I just explained that to the person. He is a great guy - in many ways, one of the best ones I have met in my 3 + years of being single now. He had so many qualities I seek... and alas another lacking weighed heavily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-7154758195440000765?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/7154758195440000765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=7154758195440000765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/7154758195440000765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/7154758195440000765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/10/respecting-intuitiion.html' title='Respecting Intuition'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-2892706100499393491</id><published>2007-08-06T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T11:18:53.431-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Will jail become fashionable?</title><content type='html'>So Paris Hilton did jail time. Now I see mentions of Nicole Ritchie headed there? And who knows what will happen with Lindsey Lohan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ponder if they will make going to jail fashionable, as I adjust my Jackie-O size sunglasses in the rearview mirror.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-2892706100499393491?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/2892706100499393491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=2892706100499393491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2892706100499393491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/2892706100499393491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/08/will-jail-become-fashionable.html' title='Will jail become fashionable?'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-1844675846316476053</id><published>2007-06-11T13:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T18:44:19.714-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating and Being Single'/><title type='text'>Dating at 40</title><content type='html'>I'm getting almost downright ornery when it comes to dealing with people who talk to me about going on a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have very little time, especially kid-free time, and I don't want to waste it on a bad date or really anyone who isn't ultimately what I'm looking for. I would rather hang out with my friends, or even clean my house than suffer through yet-another date with any of the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Player guy who dates women in their 20s. Trust me, I don't give a $$%^ tha you can still attract the Hooters waitress even though you're losing your hair and your gut is sticking out over your pants. Variation: Mr. "Just want to have fun"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Needy. this is the guy who whines "nice guys finish last". They have "nice" confused with "smothering". Last one of these was calling me his "beloved angel" after one date, and sending me novelettes telling me how much he wanted to cook for me and rub my shoulders. After one date. (I actually hung in there with this one... he ended up googling my address, going by my house, and quizzing me about the cars in my driveway. Bye)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Liar Guy. Oh, you're "divorced in your heart" but she won't sign the papers? This means "married". Look it up. Also guys who will tell "little white lies". If you have to lie about the little stuff... wow, no thanks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Atheist. Sometimes they call themselves Agnostic, or "spiritual not religous" but they really mean Atheist because they think they are God, or act in such a way that no other higher power could have any chance to have influence in their lives. They are usually very controlling, and their life is a maze of avoiding past mistakes very consciously - usually by doing the opposite.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Every-other-weekend. The latest one to ask me out only has his kids every other weekend and blames the ex for it, but asked me out for one of the weekend nights. From what I can tell, he makes no effort to see them more. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Confused Guy. This one never knows what he wants. Ever. He only knows what he doesn't want. Ugh, stay home and don't make me your next guinea pig, thank you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Mixed Message. Similar to Confused Guy but he actually knows exactly what he wants. He just can't tell you. So he tells you what he thinks you want to hear then does whatever he actually wants to do. A flavor of liar and passive-aggressive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mr. Materialistic. Often has a photo of himself and his house and/or car in an online profile. Usually means he has nothing much below the surface, or maybe below the waist!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK lunch hour over, will add more to this later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the last person who wrote me and asked for me to call him - I said - well first let me ask you a couple questions. He says OK. I asked his age - 42 - and if he dates women in their 20s. He said yes and when I said I don't date men who date women in their 20s, he tried to backtrack. So I sent him a link to something I want to practice with the next person I get serious about - and believe me it's not light reading! haha it's about AAs 12 Traditions in Relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-1844675846316476053?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/1844675846316476053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=1844675846316476053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1844675846316476053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1844675846316476053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/06/dating-at-40_11.html' title='Dating at 40'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-1320450216809883072</id><published>2007-05-30T02:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T02:24:48.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was like a Monday</title><content type='html'>Blah thoughts tonight. Disappointed in people... aren't there any honest people out there? People trying to live their lives with principles?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An argument with a friend doesn't seem to leave my mind tonight. A close friend, but who's views are so far from mine, and they seem to insist seeing only what they want to see, and apply things to me that aren't at all true. So the talk becomes about that only. It left me wondering why I even bother trying to talk to him about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's lessons lately seem to be about illusions. I want to believe things about the people I admire or trust and they prove me wrong. Humans. hehehe yes, I hear myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-1320450216809883072?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/1320450216809883072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=1320450216809883072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1320450216809883072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1320450216809883072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/it-was-like-monday.html' title='It was like a Monday'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-1040831926301553489</id><published>2007-05-26T01:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T01:28:27.984-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was quite the busy day</title><content type='html'>And so great -- both my older kids had their last day of school. I took off work to pick them up. We spent the rest of the day outside playing in the yard - baby's dad came over and joined us, then my father took us all to the local Cheesecake Factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so love my family: the one I helped create and the one I came from. It was great to spend the day with everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I also ended a dating relationship today. I tried to hang in there but after two meet-at-restaurant dates, with my being clear that I am dating around still, this guy thought it was appropriate to look up my address, come by my house without permission, and then quiz me about the cars in my driveway. Other things, difference in pacing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-1040831926301553489?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/1040831926301553489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=1040831926301553489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1040831926301553489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1040831926301553489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/it-was-quite-busy-day.html' title='It was quite the busy day'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-1933594065985286337</id><published>2007-05-23T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T07:11:31.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Been sick</title><content type='html'>I've been awake about a total of 3 of the last 29 hours... yep, stomach flu went through our family: first my niece, then my daughter, then son #2, then son #1, then me. Some of this collided Monday night as I was just starting to feel it, both sons had different types of accidents that had me stripping two beds. Fun fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm having coffee for the first time since Monday morning... and hopefully cleaning up the house a bit before I get ready for work. I hope the nanny doesn't call in sick - she was not feeling well yesterday baby's dad told me (we share her).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-1933594065985286337?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/1933594065985286337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=1933594065985286337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1933594065985286337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/1933594065985286337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/been-sick.html' title='Been sick'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-5284774511053806477</id><published>2007-05-15T14:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T14:05:43.445-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sailing Breeze</title><content type='html'>It's 70s and sunny in Louisville today and the breeze is the kind that caresses your skin. Made me think of sailing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been sailing in probably 20 years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it shall be a goal for this summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-5284774511053806477?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/5284774511053806477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=5284774511053806477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/5284774511053806477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/5284774511053806477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/sailing-breeze.html' title='A Sailing Breeze'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-3481116665566416849</id><published>2007-05-14T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T22:22:47.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Paradox of Time</title><content type='html'>Time can carry you away from something.&lt;br /&gt;Or an event can take you to the long-ago past or prospective future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to tend to move pretty quickly through feelings. I don't know if that is good or bad. I work very hard to feel good, I guess, and try to be positive and grateful and not walk around with lament or regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one thing can get to me regularly and it happened again tonight. A relative who reminds me of some negative things I have had to overcome. I had no rights in this relationship. That is probably why I am so independent and can keep my walls up against anyone who would hurt or disrespect me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling very self protective and spent the better part of the evening talking to my best friend - someone who knows my past and present, and will always be part of my life. My dear ex-husband and father to my older kids. He sure can still annoy and frustrate me, but when my heart has no shields, he is the one who shows me over and over he knows exactly how to be there. I am so grateful for our friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-3481116665566416849?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/3481116665566416849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=3481116665566416849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3481116665566416849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/3481116665566416849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/paradox-of-time.html' title='The Paradox of Time'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-4162856618009976259</id><published>2007-05-13T01:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T22:04:31.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma Debt?</title><content type='html'>Mid April: meet a guy, we start talking, seems great, we plan to meet. Time limitations and conflicting custody schedules delay our meeting.&lt;br /&gt;April 28: attend an event, meet someone else, become very infatuated, spend time and it seems perfect, but within the week truths revealed deeply bruise my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Four days ago: finally meet guy #1 who appears to be infatuated. But I can't stop thinking about guy #2 who is unavailable. So I am withdrawn and most likely blowing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was thinking about karma debt. What karma debt am I paying? I immediately thought about David, this sweet guy I met back around 2003 on hiatus from the 4-year boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My interest in him was self-serving - after so much time in an abusive, roller-coaster relationship, here's this guy who liked me. And I liked it that he liked me. But I felt guilty 'cause I wasn't being totally honest and ultimately I blew him off. For months he kept writing and contacting me. I changed my email and other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my mind keeps on thinking about what just happened last week. Total illusions and yet my heart is longing for it to be true. I lay in bed on my side and remember how perfectly we fit, and how I turned around to keep on kissing him. It was all so heavenly. My inner drill sargent is screaming at me about the whole thing - you idiot, it yells. You idiot! Get over it, it was all a lie, move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile I have this sweet, interesting, handsome, accomplished etc guy wanting to make me dinner and all these nice things and he seems to like me a little faster than I am ready for - because - tada - of my stupid impulsiveness last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mess. What a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want something different in my life. I don't want to long for unavailable men anymore. I want to turn and face the one who is offering his hand out to me. I must pray about this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-4162856618009976259?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/4162856618009976259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=4162856618009976259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4162856618009976259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4162856618009976259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/karma-debt.html' title='Karma Debt?'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-4305871528179713016</id><published>2007-05-09T22:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T23:07:51.745-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wistful</title><content type='html'>Today's word is &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;wist·ful&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;adj.   1. Full of wishful yearning.&lt;br /&gt;   2. Pensively sad; melancholy.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, the definition fits for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing someone. Missing talking for hours and enjoying it so much you don't notice it's been hours. Wondering if what I miss was an illusion... the days between then and now have me questioning if my perception was all wrong. Missing how I felt and wondering if I will feel that way again. Missing moments I don't want to let myself remember. Wishing I could express myself directly but knowing I cannot be so disrespectful again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I grieved my last love, I reminded myself that I was lucky... lucky that I got to experience it, and lucky that I was capable of loving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess today I can feel lucky that for the first time in a very (very) long time, I felt open... alive... an intense passion I had not been inspired to feel for so long, I had just about given up thinking I would... and tried to pretend to be content without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was. But now I know better. And the rest of the world seems a little gray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-4305871528179713016?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/4305871528179713016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=4305871528179713016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4305871528179713016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/4305871528179713016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/wistful.html' title='Wistful'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7022026566884349615.post-6111545126246968681</id><published>2007-05-04T20:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T13:28:04.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>I miss having a catch-all blog, so I have separated the recovery blog and this one. Contact me at vetver at gmail if you want the link to the new one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7022026566884349615-6111545126246968681?l=www.vetver.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.vetver.com/feeds/6111545126246968681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7022026566884349615&amp;postID=6111545126246968681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/6111545126246968681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7022026566884349615/posts/default/6111545126246968681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.vetver.com/2007/05/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>vetver</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
