Moving

I am moving. I am packing up the boxes and moving on. And I am not just talking about my move back to Los Angeles. I am moving this bloggy too. GITR now lives here: www.girlintheroom.com

Exposed

Back when I worked, people were always getting in trouble over e-mail snafus. One lady got the boot cause she wrote an e-mail about one of our celeb prospective parents and sent it to Sarah the boss instead of Sarah the assistant. And there were other issues. People often hit the "reply all" button as opposed to the "reply to sender" button leaving more than one person in an embarrassing e-mail sitch and throwing the tech team into overdrive to shutdown the message before all the "alls" could retrieve it. The panic always cracked me up. And you need that kind of thing to lighten your day when you live in a cave.

But when an e-mail snafu happens to you, or to me, to be more precise, it is not such a laughing matter. And I know better. I know not to write it in an e-mail. It was a truthful e-mail but potentially hurtful and it somehow got before the eyes of the person it was about. And though she knew about it for at least a couple of weeks, just confronted me yesterday. She actually thanked me because what I said in the e-mail helped her reflect on our relationship. I am not sure if the apology was sincere or a stab but the whole situation created a lot of tears and hurt and I feel at once both violated and embarrassed, hurt and ashamed. I wish I had had the guts to say what I had to say to this person from the get go, but some relationships, especially familial are incredibly tense, twisted, and confusing. I don't totally regret writing it because it was and is the truth but I do regret that it somehow got to her because it was a private conversation. But it happened and I can't take it back so it is what it is. I am sorry that I hurt this person but not sorry that I wrote about my honest feelings and I will not use other people's computers in the future.

Getting Over It

When I quit work, we had to move. Bug and I moved to the desert. Big D stayed in Los Angeles and came to us on the weekends. At first it didn't matter much. Bug was nursing all the time and refluxing when she wasn't nursing and we two were a beautiful mess. But as the months turned into a year, the weekdays without Big D became grueling and the commuting back and forth for Big D became arduous. Bug became attached to her Daddy. It became obvious that we needed to move back. But in doing so, I have come to realize that this temporary move to the desert has been a buffer from the feelings of having to, for financial reasons and other more personal reasons, leave. The house in Eagle Rock has our blood, sweat, and tears in it. For now, it is still ours though we no longer live there. But I am realizing that I have to mourn a little for it and then get over it. Cause a house is only a home when the people you love are in it. And that is what I have learned. So, here is my goodbye to my lovely little house. I think we did right by you.