So, after a year of being a behind the scenes blog spy I have decided to live out my own little fantasy of endless ranting about everything in my brain with no expectations except to vent.  I feel a little silly right now to be honest.  Does this make me a dork?  Shoot, I really don't care much, anyone who knows me has to know that I am a dork already anyhow.  :)

Since I lost my therapist a few months back, I suppose this can be like my own little online therapy.  Ahh the joys of being a crazy dork! :)

Me, let's see, who am I?  Hmmm... Brief synopsis:

I am twenty-eight, and in denial of my age.  I would like to stay twenty-five thank you very much.  I have a beautiful eight year old daughter who is the absolute sunshine of my life.  I had been there and back again with loser men until I met Paul who I have been with for almost two years now.  He is a wonderful, wonderful, man. :)  We just bought a Condo together in my home town, and I am very happy about that.

So... doesn't that sound peachy keen?  I almost hate to ruin that beautiful picture of my life with my stinky reality, but in order to explain myself completely, I suppose I need to be honest.

For my entire life I have battled a low lying Depression called, dysthymia.  Well, probably not my entire life, but for a pretty long time...  I never knew what was wrong with me, only that I was so sad all the time.  I am a pro at putting on a happy face, so not many people knew my reality; but underneath it all was a girl who was in constant pain.  I had trouble concentrating, sleeping, and functioning as a normal human being.  I always thought people were talking about me, making fun of me... I always thought I was the joke of whatever room I was in.

Two years ago in September of 2002 my life changed; I felt so hopeless and lost that I wanted to die.  I wanted to die so bad that I took a bunch of pills in the hopes that the pain would all go away.  Luckily, I didn't take enough pills to kill me or even put me in the hospital, but I did take enough that I was violently ill for two days.   Reality Check!

I went to my doctor, and she pretty much put it all out there... I was SpongeBobCrazyPants and she wanted to put me on medication.

"What? I don't want to be on medication, I am not crazy!"

Christmas still goes on, even when people you love die.  It doesn't help that he killed himself 2 years ago as of December 20th.  It doesn't help that he was the most fun thing about Christmas because he loved giving presents, and he always wrapped boxes inside boxes with miles of masking tape and newspaper and all sorts of stuff to make unwrapping the presents crazy fun.

At least I have those memories

So, now I am going shopping.  I have resigned to the fact that I actually have to participate in this holiday.  Last-minute-I-have-no-money shopping has to be the best kind!

There are so many reasons why the next two days are going to be hard...  Wish me luck.

Merry Christmas, (and I am smiling when I say that, seriously.)  :)

Christmas with my family was pretty sad.  It actually only consisted of Christmas eve from 7pm to 10pm...  and that was just for the kids.   My parents have aged more in the past years than in the first 60 something years before that.  

Christmas with my boyfriends family was stressful.  I should probably preface that with an explanation.   We have been together for almost 2 years now, and he is an amazing man, no lie.  I am so head over heels in love with him, and I never ever ever thought I could find someone like him.   He has a great family, and they all are so close, it is amazing.

His mother is beautiful.  She is in almost 50, and she is referred to by all his friends as a M.I.L.F.  I have always admired her, and complimented her, and been nothing but nice to her.   (Foreshadowing eh?)

Another little bit of background I should share is that after my brother died, my antidepressent medication changed, and the dosage increased.  That helped my mood, but had a detrimental effect on my body, and caused a disgusting amount of weight gain.  All of a sudden my size 6 body was growing and growing and growing... (If anyone asks you about Effexor... I don't recommend it.)  My metabolism was completely dead.  After my doctor was completely convinced that it was the medication, and that I was well enough to switch to something less harmful to my metabolism, she switched me to Welbutrin.  Now I have FINALLY stopped gaining weight and I am starting to lose it.  (Thank the Dear Lord).

So anyhow... back to my point.

A few months back we attended a wedding with his parents.  In the middle of dinner, his mother (Who had had a few glasses of wine) leaned into me and said, "Sue, I know I have never liked you... but if Paul loves you there has to be something good about you."

OK, now that boggled my mind!  She didn't like me?  What?  I had no clue.  NONE!  Now I felt pretty silly that I never knew that!  Then she leans in and starts talking about how mean she has been.  What?  I honestly had no clue... and I am like, "Please, don't worry about it, you haven't been."

Yea, well that was before I actually knew anything.  After that I started hearing things from his cousins that he is close with, about his mother and his aunts not wanting him to be with me, and I was shocked and hurt.  But I had no idea how hurt I would be.

You will never believe this one.

We were moving into the new condo, and Paul was letting my daughter have his old bedside table.  I told him I was going to empty out the drawer so if there was anything in there he didn't want me to see, he should take it out.  He said, "Please, it is just cards from you... just clean it out"

First thing I pick up is a letter to him.  I thought it was from an ex-girlfriend, but nope.. it was from his mom...  actually, I will cut and paste it from an e-mail I sent out... hold on...

Yea, so I did not alter that at all... except to bold the things in it that totally floored me.

Now, yes... I am overweight right now.  I am no longer a size six... but a big fat ferocious hose beast I am not.  I was so completely hurt by that letter, I cried and cried.

If you forced me, I would put up a picture of myself currently, actually a picture from that wedding, that would prove that I am not a big nasty beast woman.  That letter made me so sad.  I suppose mainly because it had nothing to do with my character.  I am not the size of my clothes.

I am so much more than that.

Also... if I was naturally predetermined to be a heavy person, would that constitute someone saying they don't want their son to be with me?  No.  No way.  That is so wrong.   I am not supposed to be as fat as I am right now, and my doctor agrees, which is why we are working on that.. but if I was supposed to be fat, if it was in my genetic makeup.. then that is who I would be.. and no one has a right to discriminate based on such silly materialistic ideals.

So... needless to say.. I was SOOO uncomfortable around his mom at Christmas.   We were with his family all of Christmas day.  I ate a salad. 

I was horrified for anyone to catch me eating anything of substance for fear an alarm might go off... "Warning, warning... fat slob eating excess carbohydrates in the kitchen... discommunicate her!!!"

(When we left there at 10pm I made Paul take me to T.G.I. Friday's... I WAS STARVING!)

I felt like I was under a microscope... which in the past would have been me being paranoid, but I am afraid this time, it was quite true.

How the heck did Paul come out of that environment so well?  That is a miracle!

Thank GOD Christmas is over.  Thank God.

(insert sigh of relief here)

:)

I can't get inspired to work... so I am going to blog about my band.

I am in a local cover band, and we play at alot of the big bars in town.  I wish I didn't have to work a "real job" every day, and instead had more time to just sing, and get attention all the time.  :)

Then I could just go to the gym all day, and work out, and not be so stressed about getting all the cases completed, and motions filed, and dealing with the idiots who get arrested for drunk driving 10 times in one month, and all the dead beat dad's that try to make a case for themselves with the attorney in hopes that he can help them skip out on their responsibilities so that they can go live happy ever after with their teenage girlfriends, and get them pregnant and start the cycle all over again...

I know that was a run-on sentence, and I don't really care!

I thought I was going to be a superstar.  I really did.  When I had Brianna everything changed.  I suppose it is probably better to be a big fish in a little pond than being a little fish in a big pond though eh?   Or maybe I am just trying to convince myself of that.

I will never blame my daughter for me not following through with my dreams, because it is all my fault really.  I could blame the depression, but that would be a cop out also.

I could still try to do more.  I could still at least get my Music Creator software hooked up and finish my original music.  There is no reason I can't do that, except for the fact that I like to make excuses for myself.

I love to sing, I love to sing, I love to sing.  I think I am setting a goal to finish my music, if for nothing else, just for me.

That is my first Resolution.  I want to create a CD for myself... and I want to do it by... ummm.... by.....June.   I want to finish the first song by February. 

Think I can do it?

Maybe having it in black in white will help me.

The band is so much fun, but man is it drama!  It is like being in a relationship with four men...(well, five if you include Paul in that equation).  It is also fun at the end of the night when every one is totally trashed at the bars, and they just want to talk to you because you are the lead singer of the band, and that makes them feel cool. 

They always assume I am going off to some kick ass party... when in all actuality I am dying to take off these 5 inch heels, and put on my flannel pajamas, and go home to my kid.   I am such a rockstar!  :)

We are currently auditioning bass players.  Our old bass player had a complete meltdown, so we have been 'borrowing' bass players from other bands for our last gigs of the year while we audition new guys...

Thing is... you get lots of freaks when you audition for a band.   Right now, I will be happy to find someone who doesn't look like they are a 70 year old man trying to emulate Slash!  (teeth would also be good)  Does that make me a hypocrite?  If I am mad about Paul's mom judging me for my looks, am I a hypocrite because I think our new bass player should have teeth?

Wow, I think I need to go do some soul searching! :)

After my brother killed himself everything inside of my soul died.  December 20, 2002 was the day that I lost who I used to be completely.  Up until that day, I lived every day just to get through it.  After that day I spent 6 months not even living.

I did get enough perspective to leave my ex-boyfriend, who was addicted to steroids, gambling, and treating me like shit.  I tried to leave him so many times, but I was so afraid of him.  About a week after my brother died, I had one of his (my brother's) old shirts hanging in my room and Nick (the dickhead ex-boyfriend) told me to take it down.  I didn't want to, and a fight insued.  He said, "Get over it, he is dead!"

Fuck off asshole!  That was the complete end of that relationship for sure.

I spent the next couple of months dealing with his threats and constant harrassing phone calls, it was hell.  

Three months after Greg died, I went to a Celtics game with a friend.  We met up with a bunch of his friends and there was this one guy that I didnt know, but I felt like I knew him.

Mind you, I had written off men altogether, and quite frankly the concept of a relationship of any type was the furthest thing from my mind.

This 'guy' was Paul.  No lie, it was something completely supernatural that I felt that night.  I had never felt so compelled to a person, especially someone that didn't fit my usual 'type'.  I had always dated muscular men, who were dark in complexion, very italian looking... and that was what I was always attracted to.  That wasn't Paul, he was very tall and thin, but he was perfect.  I talked to him the entire night.

I haven't stopped being infatuated with Paul since.

The DAY after I met Paul I was being completely harrassed by Nick the Prick, and I was so sick of it.  My life in those three months was more than I ever thought I could handle.  I was working for the biggest asshole lawyer in the universe, and my workload was enormous.  I was crying every night missing my brother, still expecting to see him, still picking up the phone to call him.  Nick was torturing me.

So, that day Nick calls me and tells me that he is 'with my brother' and he will never stop loving me.  The things he is saying are implying that he is going to kill himself. He is throwing out all these threats about how he would kill anyone who was with me, and all that other bullshit that you see in every abused woman Lifetime Original Movie.  The dickhead was at my brother's grave, threatening suicide.  (my brother didn't even like the ass!)    Talk about being manipulative!  So I called the police, and a small little chase insued, that ended with him being taken to the hospital and his entire family calling me a psycho bitch.  (wait a minute, me?  Did they never hear him?  He was a complete maniac.  Whatever, have another cup of denial, it suits you well.)

I took out a restraining order, and attempted to resume my pseudo-life.

Poor Paul was thrust into this life of chaos.  (Not to say that I didn't warn him)

The problem was, I never intended on meeting Paul.  I had given up on life completely.  I was just going through the motions, and suddenly there was this part of my soul that had never felt any light... and it was glowing.  He found a part of me that I never knew existed, and suddenly I started questioning everything.

Around me, the world was still in shambles.  My family was a shell of what they used to be.  My parents were drinking themselves to sleep every night.  My brothers and sister were avoiding any of the reality that was surrounding the home.  (at this time my daughter and I still lived with my parents)  I wondered how I could be so completely utterly sad and lost and still feel so much love for Paul.

My daughter was just a little girl, only 6 years old.  She was so confused, and sad.  She was the light of hope in my world.  She was the constant that I could hold onto, and keep pushing forward for.

I had intended on taking my life the same way that Greg had, on the six month anniversary of his death.  That was my way of coping with it all... I just couldn't see past all of the pain... I was so confused, I was lost.   I went to my counseling every week, and lied to my therapist.  I had it all planned out.  I bought  the same material that Greg had used, and I had it in my trunk.  The date was quickly coming.  I had lots of loose ends to tie up.

The pain and emptiness in Greg's fiancee's eyes haunted me.  His daughter would never know her father.  My parents could barely breathe from their loss.  What the hell was I doing?  I can't do this to my family... but I can't live like this anymore!  How do I do this?  What do I do?  I was lost, I was so lost.

Then Paul's uncle died suddenly.  I was in the funeral home at the wake.  I didn't know any of these people yet, Paul's family were strangers to me, but I recognized the look in all of their eyes.

I recognized that pain. 

I saw his young cousins who were now without their father, and I wept.   Thing is, I was weeping for me.  Suddenly, I didn't want to die.  I just didn't know how to live.

That week I told my therapist everything, and we arranged for me to be admitted to a hospital.  I was inpatient for a week, and outpatient for about 2 weeks.

I had so much pain, and I had no coping skills.  My bulimia that I had overcome in college came back full blast.  Whenever I got upset I was hurting myself.

The hospital was pretty freaky to be perfectly honest.  I kept thinking that I wasn't a looney tune, and I didn't belong there.  But I did.  Everyone there was just like anyone you would meet on the street.  I kept thinking of that old sesame street song... "these are the people in your neighborhood, your neighborhood, your neighborhood... the people that you meet, when you're walking down the street, they are the people that you meet each day.."

In those 3 weeks, I found myself again.  I found hope.  I found my purpose, and I wasn't going to give up.

It has been about a year and a half since that time in my life, and I am still fighting the fight.  I miss my brother today like it was yesterday. 

Everything happens for a reason, and we all have our own unique purpose in life.  I will see my brother again someday when I die, but that time isn't now.  I know that his Spirit surrounds my family and friends.  I like to believe that he brought Paul to me.  His death taught many of us some valuable lessons about love, life, and relationships and that could be part of the path his life was intended to take.  I can feel blessed to have been able to have him with us here on earth for the time we had him here.

There are so many things in life that I denied myself because I didn't ever think I was worth it.  I committed years of my life to Brianna's father, who was a liar and a cheater.  I committed years of my life to Nick the Prick, who was a liar, a cheater, and abusive.  Suddenly I gained perspective.  I am worth something.  I will not settle, and I will not give up on myself.  I could regret all the time that I wasted, but in the end I wouldn't be who I am today without living the life that I have lived.

My daughter is my sunshine, and Paul is my blue skies.  No matter what, I always have them, I am blessed, and I am worth it.

As requested, here is the picture from the wedding that provoked the evil letter from Paul's Mom.  (see how sad pt 2)

I hope I don't freak you out with this post, but I felt the need to share.  As I have been peeking around at other blogs I have found many people questioning the purpose of life, and the meaning of death.  This could quite possibly be a long post, so I apologize for not being a good editor.

Sit around my children, I have a story to tell.

(OK, that kinda sounded dorky, but I wanted it to sound cool and inviting!)

Anyhow...

If you have read my past blogs you will know that I lost my brother 2 years ago.  He was literally my best friend in the whole world, and we were practically twins.  He lost a long battle with depression that ended in suicide.

About a year ago, I saw this flyer for an event called "Postcards From Heaven" and there was this woman who claimed to be a spirit medium that was the guest speaker.  It claimed to be relatively similar to Jon Edwards, "Crossing Over" television show.   I brought it up to my sister and my late brother's fiancee.  We were all pretty skeptical, but when you lose someone suddenly, you reach for any possible reconnection to them.

So the three of us went.  The medium introduced herself as Maureen and shared her personal story with the audience (probably like 20-30 people).  She had survived her own special miracles, (if you are interested I can give you a link to her bio on her website) and one day realized that she had the same gift that her grandmother had claimed to have.  At first, she said, it really freaked her out, and she ignored it... but eventually she opened herself up to the messages she was recieving and realized how important it was for her to share her gift.  (I am still very very skeptical at this point)

She starts walking around the room... she is very funny, and she claims that the positive energy of laughter helps.  She explains that she has only been doing this for a few years, and is still learning how to interpret the messages that she receives.  She said that when people die, their spirit vibrates at a much higher energy level than do ours, and when she gets information from them, it is almost like a speeding car going down the highway with someone shouting to her.  She also said that her brain is like a giant catalog, and they present her with snapshots from her brain that they think will help get their message across, which is why sometimes they will say.. "R... someone with a name that begins with R... like Ricky or Ricardo...."  Because they will see a snapshot of someone they have known personally who's name begins with R.   Or they will see a rose, or a butterfly, which all mean something in particular to the medium...

She is walking around the room and getting "hits".  The information that she was getting right was remarkable.  I was convinced that these people were "planted" to trick us.   She was singing songs that someone who died used to sing.. she was answering questions about an accidental death that apparently wasn't so accidental after all... and then she walked over to us.

(I need to preface this with the fact that on the way to this event, I was talking out loud to my brother and I said if this is real you will answer these questions for me.  #1 are my dreams real? #2 What do you think of your fiancee dating the guy she is dating? #3 Can you hear me when I talk to you?)

"Someone in this area...a young man, in his twenties... Something around his neck...."

Now she is standing directly in front of us right now.  It feels like my head is buzzing, and my body is all tingly... the energy at that moment was so intense.  The three of us raised our hands and began to sob.

She walked up to us, and said, "This kid is a wise-ass"

We laughed, that was Greg alright! She walked right over to his fiancee, and said "You are his girlfriend or wife?  I feel so much love directed at you. He is so sorry, he keeps saying that he is sorry and he didn't know what he was thinking."

We are now all crying full blast.  I can't explain how intense it felt, I was freaking out inside, how could she just 'guess' all the things she was saying.  She wasn't leading us into saying things, she was just saying them.

Facing my sister and I she said, "He is with your family, and he says he can hear you when you talk to him"  she turned to his fiancee, "He wants you to be happy, but it doesn't sound like he is thrilled with the person you are dating right now"

Then she turns to me, "And yes, you're dreams are real"

WHAT?  This is impossible... this is amazing... this is wonderful... this is crazy!!!  She says, "who is G, is does his name start with G, is he Greg?"   Yes.

There was more, but I can't remember the specifics, and I don't want to embellish the truth, so I will leave it at that for now.  That night was amazing to me, and it made me feel so much better about things.  I always felt like he was around me, but I didn't 'know'.  I felt like I had confirmed things for myself and I was happy.

After that event, my curiousity peaked, and I started researching as much as I could about life after death. 

When I was in college, my Chemistry professor had an elective seminar on Einstein's Theory of Relativity and Life After Death.  It was truly amazing, and enlightening.  The fact that life after death could be scientifically proven was inspiring, and I remember being completely enthralled that entire seminar.  He had said alot about energy and vibration, and that our souls are a miraculous bundle of energy that leave our body when we die... (once again I would embellish, but I don't want to be incorrect)

I also read The Celestine Prophecy, which yes, is a story of fiction, but it really got me intrigued, alot of the theories in that book could relate to the theories my Chemistry professor had.  The continuation of that book, The Tenth Insight reconfirmed my interest in this energy that we have inside of ourselves.   It claimed that there were different levels of afterlife, some for the dead, some in between that simply required clarity and meditation to reach.  It was very inspiring to me.

Then I started reading the psychic books.  Do you know who Sylvia Browne is?  She is the Psychic that would always be on the Montell Williams Show.  She has a number of books out, and I have read a few.  My favorite being, "The Other Side". (I think that is what it is called?)   These books revolved around the whole theory that we are all made up of energy and when we die the energy that is our soul becomes a part of all space and time.  The 'other side' is all around us, but we just aren't in tune to the energy vibrations. 

I found one of Sylvia Browne's claims to be very interesting.  Every night I would wake up at 3AM ON THE DOT!  3 AM every single night, no fail.  It was strange, and when I would get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink because I was awake, my Mom would be getting up also.  Weird.   Well, she claimed that the veil between the two worlds is thinnest from 3AM to like 5AM or so.  I found that very interesting, as that was when Mom and I were waking up.  I think Greg has been messing with us!

I also have very vivid dreams where I am hanging out with my brother, or he is making fun of people.  I remember one specific one where we were making fun of his ex-girlfriend crying at his wake on his coffin saying "My Greggie" over and over again.  The dream was so real, the conversation was so real, it just wasn't like a typical dream.

In my reading, and question asking, I learned that dreams of loved ones who have passed can also be them actually communicating with us when our bodies can't disclaim the reality.  We vibrate at a higher energy in our sleep and we are more open to the messages they are sending us.

One of the things that I found very interesting was the claim that when we are on the 'other side' we choose our life paths.  There are things that our soul needs to learn in each time that we are on earth and we lay out the map for this learning before we are born into this life.  Deja vu is allegedly a confirmation of this.  You know when you get deja vu and you are like, " I feel like I have done this before, but I don't know when or why?"  That is supposedly a checkpoint that you laid out for your subconcious before you were born to insure that you are on the right path in life.   The other deja vu, where you are like, "I swear I have been here before or met that person" but you have never been there or met that person, is allegedly a confirmation that in a past life you had been in that place, or known that other person.

Quite interesting I think.

I don't claim for any of this to be complete true scientific fact, it is just the way I view it, and the way I like to think things are.  

:)  Was that an awful long post?  sorry.

Tue Dec 28, 6:34 AM ET
An Indian man cries as he holds the hand of his eight-year-old son, who was killed in a tsunami in Cuddalore, southern India, December 27, 2004. The death toll in a tsunami that slammed into coasts from India to Indonesia topped 22,000 as rescuers scoured the sea for missing tourists and fears of disease grew as soldiers raced to recover rotting bodies. (Arko Datta/Reuters)

I can't imagine that pain.  I just can't imagine it.

I think you should read this, and then pass it on.  I wish I could nominate it, but I don't see the link to do that! :(

http://xwakeupcryingx.mindsay.com/?entry=108

EDIT:  I guess it had to be a post that was made today.  Well... YOU GO READ IT NOW ANYHOW!  GO!  NOW!  :)

:)

Here I am ready to step across the threshold of a new year, and I have never thought much of resolutions. I think probably every year I would throw out something superficial like, "I won't eat chocolate" or "I'll get my haircut every six weeks" or some meaningless bullshit.

A new year, a new start, a new outlook?  That could really be any day of our lives if you think about it.  We can change our view at any point in time.  That is the wonderful thing about free will.  My outlook on life has changed dramatically in the past two years.

My diaries from all the way back to when I was 13 read pretty much the same.  I went through the same cycles... 

"I Love Eddie..Eddie loves Cara… I hate my life I want to die… I need new jeans.. I can’t find new jeans… I hate my life, I want to die…. I am so happy because life is great… I hate my life I want to die… My math teacher is out to ruin my life… I hate my life I want to die… I love Brian… Brian sucks… I hate my life I want to die.”

So multiply all that shallow self-loathing crap by 4,745, which so happens to be the amount of days between being 13 and however old I was 2 years ago, (I think) and you can get the gist of the outlook that I carried for so long.

Nowadays these are the Top Ten things that are important to me:

(I say “Top Ten” because I know how much we bloggers enjoy the list thing!)

1.      ME     

I am the most important thing in my life.  In order for me to be a good mother, daughter, sister, friend, lover, or anything for that matter, I need to care about myself.  I am important, and that is number one on my list.

2.      MY CHILD 

Brianna is by far the driving force in my life.  The reason why I am top on my list of priorities is because that is what is best for her.  My daughter deserves to have a role model who loves herself, so that she may emulate that and grow to be a confident woman.  My daughter is more important than work, laundry, a dirty floor, a phone call, etc.  The time that I spend with my child is precious, and she is invaluable to me.

3.      MY PARTNER 

Paul is the most amazing man I have ever met, and I am absolutely convinced that our souls were meant to be together. (In the past, I would never have admitted this, but now I know how very important that is, and what love really feels like)  It is very important to me that we never go to bed angry, and that he knows every day how happy I am and how completely in love I am with him, without a doubt.

4.      MY FAMILY 

A very hard lesson that I had to learn in life is that you never know when you are going to be saying goodbye to someone for the last time.  My family is important to me.  It is important to me that I never forget to tell them that I love them, or how much I appreciate all they have been in my life. 

5.      MY FRIENDS 

By “friends” I don’t mean “acquaintances” but instead “TRUE FRIENDSHIPS”.  I learned through life lessons who my real friends are, and those relationships are very important to me.  It is important that I am there for them as they have been for me.  It is important for me to make myself available in the middle of the night if they need a safe ride home. It is important for me to put our friendship on the line if it means that I could save their life.  Another lesson I have learned is that I would rather have someone be alive and mad at me, then have them be gone, and me be filled with regrets.

6.      MAKING A DIFFERENCE 

It is important to me that I make a difference in the world.  I know that by being vocal about depression and suicide, I have already made a difference in at least one person’s life, and that is important to me.  It is important that I continue to support and fundraise for a local suicide prevention/support program.  It is important that I don’t give up on the reality that I can actually make some sort of difference in the world, even by the smallest actions.

7.      EDUCATION  

Education is important to me.  The entire world is at one’s fingertips and it is important to me that I take advantage of that.  I want to continue to better myself and become informed about the world around me.  A college professor of mine began each semester by writing on the board, “Knowledge is Power” that is important to me.

8.      FREEDOM 

My freedom is important to me.  I am extremely thankful to have grown up in the United States of America, and I love my country.  It is important to me that my children and grandchildren can live with the same freedoms as I have lived with. 

9.      MEMORIES 

Memories are precious to me, and I strive to keep journals, pictures, and videos of all that I hold dear.  Memories warm my heart and remind me what is truly important when I have those days that things aren’t so clear.  Memories keep me company when I am alone.  Memories are going to be my fortunes when I am an old woman, and because of that they are important to me.

10.  YOU   

You are important to me.  Even if I don’t know you, even if you hate me, you are important to me.  I truly believe that all of our lives are connected, and that my actions will someday affect your life, or your children’s lives.  It is strange how close all of our lives really are, and how what we do can impact so many without us realizing that.  For those reasons, you are important to me.

Now, I am not going to lie, I do still have that superficial part of me saying that I am going to lose weight, and that I am going to try to paint my nails every day of the new year, but those aren't my priorities.  The things that truly matter for the rest of my life are the things that I am recommitting to for the New Year.  In the big picture, who really cares if I am a size 6 by the middle of the summer? (Except of course for Paul’s Mom)

I am lucky for what I have, and so many people have it so much worse. 

I am grateful to have things in my life that can make me smile. 

I know that there is a reason that I am alive, and I am glad that I can see that clearly.

:)

I wrote this song for my brother about a year before he died.  I would post an audio version, but I have no clue how to do that. 

I don't know why this song doesn't make me sad, or regretful; maybe it is because I have a really great memory of playing it for him after a particularly difficult evening. 

Greg wanted help, he really did.  Life just snowballed on him, and he couldn't see his way out of the moment one night, and that is all that it takes, just one moment in life.

Don't be afraid

You're not alone

I've felt the same

Please don't lose hope

Please look past today

It wont always feel this way

Try and see that the pain will not stay

When you open your eyes there's a brighter new day

Reach out to me

When you are scared

You're never alone

I'll always care

Please don't do what I'm scared you'll do

The world has so much for you

Try and see that the pain will not stay

When you open your eyes there's a brighter new day

Don't be afraid

You're not alone

I've felt the same

Please don't lose hope

copyright 2001 littledosie

all rights reserved

I miss you big brother, Happy New Year.

I just got off the phone with the most annoying client.  This frustrates me for more than one reason.  The attorney, (I haven't had the chance to introduce 'Mr. Quirky' to you yet) is not in the office, and wasn't in the office all last week, and God only knows if he intends on being in the office this week.  I have no idea what his schedule is like, what his calendar entails, because he is such a control freak that I have no knowledge of his comings and goings.  (that is real effective!)  The man keeps EVERYTHING in this old worn out black leather book that is filled with scraps of paper and scribbles.

Anyhow, the client is in the middle of a very ugly divorce, and he for some reason thinks that I am here to be his therapist EVERY SINGLE 5 MINUTES OF THE DAY!   Every time he calls he is like, "Sue?  How are you?  I am so stressed out, this is so hard for me... blah blah blah blah"

See, here's the thing:

 #1 I do not get paid $300.00for every hour I have to listen to this guy whine, as does 'Mr. Quirky'.

#2 I have heard from people who have had it a lot worse than this client, and it is really hard for me to empathize.

#3 The guy seems pretty manipulative, and I think he is trying to work one over on me.  I don't think he realizes that I do all his paperwork, and I know that his wife has a restraining order on him, and I saw the pictures of her bruises.  Yea prick, please don't tell me one more time how much YOU are hurting asshole!

I hate working for a defense attorney.  I hate dealing with divorce on a regular basis.  I hate when "Mr. Quirky' charges someone a disgusting amount of money, so that I can do all the work.

I need to ask him for a review, and a raise.  This will be quite a feat, as he is SO CHEAP.  I am starting to resent this place, and I want to feel like I am being compensated for my work. 

I came to this office almost a year ago, and I was promised the sun, moon, stars, and more!  Every time I try to bring up the topic of a review he finds a way to avoid it.

OH! Maybe someone can help me with this little issue:

I need to get in writing how many sick days/vacation days/personal days I am entitled to a year, and I also want to establish which holidays not to work.  This is a very small office, and there are currently no policies in effect.  I intend on getting all of that established before I can continue busting my butt.  So, if you have an employee handbook that you could refer to, or a company policy that you could share, I would appreciate it.

Would you believe that in the amount of time that it took for me to type this, that stupid client called here again!  I said that we would call him.  UGH!!!!!!!!

I think I am cranky today... shit, I hate being cranky!  :(

I need money, I forgot to complain about that!  I think I mentioned in an earlier post that the band is looking for a new Bass player.  Because of the search for a decent Bass player, we haven't been booking gigs like usual.  I never realized how much I relied on that money till now, when I realize that the mortgage was due on the 1rst of the month, and I didn't send out the check yet.  Once I send out that check... I am literally BROKE. 

Now I need to figure out how to pay the condo fees, the Home Equity, Car Loans, Insurance, and Paul's scary student loans...  eeeek.  

I think we have a gig this coming weekend, but I am too lazy to call the guys, and our website hasn't been updated recently so I can't tell...

Money money money!  Maybe I will sell my thong on E-Bay... you think I could raise some money that way?  (I jest, but re-reading that, I bet someone could end up making money by doing something like that!)

Yes, I am cranky today, but I just had one of Brianna's Sunny Delights, and that was a guilty pleasure.  Silly the things that make you smile...  I suppose if I can't have Grey Goose there is nothing better than sugar loaded children's drinks!  (with a full day's supply of Vitamin C as an added bonus!)

UGH, The client just called again!  Doesn't he know that I am trying to blog here!?!?!?

I know we have all been posting our own thoughts/links on the tsunami, but I found this blog today, and I want you all to check it out, and cut and paste this into your blogs!  Do it!

:)  http://www.jacobsen.no/anders/blog/archives/2005/01/02/webloggers_give_to_tsunami_victims_and_ill_give_too.html

"Whether you give money, time or whether you decide to share your link-power; if you create a post on your weblog front page or create permanent links in your blogroll and link to the below organizations, then link to my blog and this posting, I will pay US$ 1 to the British Red Cross. I will visit/verify any blog trackbacking this post or showing up Technorati the next two weeks and donate accordingly. "  - Anders Jacobsen 1/02/2005

OK so do it!  :)

:)

a reminder-

http://littledosie.mindsay.com/?entry=11

Paul had a draft last night for Playoff Fantasy Football.  He promised me he would be home NO LATER than 11PM.  Usually when he is late I get aggravated and bitchy, and at 11:30PM I started getting a little irritated.

11:40 PM I hear keys jingling outside of our door, so I turn to look and Paul is coming in the condo... IN HIS UNDERWEAR!!!!  That's it, no shirt, nothing, just cute little Paul in his undies!  I am like, "What the hell are you doing?" 

He comes rushing over to me, and I am standing against the arm of our couch.  Without saying anything he sweeps me in his arms kissing me, pushing me over the arm of the couch underneath him. The kiss was so passionate and deep.  He didn't speak at all, just completely devoured me just like that.  It was amazing.  He was amazing.  (HUGE SMILE ON MY FACE) 

Now yes, I will say that I quite enjoyed it.  Yes, I will say that it was totally adorable.  But you know what?  I am pretty sure that he did that just so I wouldn't bitch at him for being late!  Hmmmmmm.... interesting.... it worked!  :)

I had to pick up Brianna from school yesterday, she was complaining of a stomach ache.  She has been doing this for a while now, and then she seems fine.  On my way to the school I was thinking that it might have to do with other things, like my brother, moving recently, etc. 

Wouldn't you know that the second she got in the car she says to me, "Mommy, did you know that I was in the bathroom when Daddy told me?"

"What honey? What are you talking about"

"Remember how Daddy had to come and get me in the middle of the night when Uncle Greg died?  He told me when I was in the bathroom."

"What did he tell you?"

"That Uncle Greg was sick and in the hospital."

"Oh, is there anything else you want to say about that?"

She didn't have anything else to say about it then, but later on when we were having dinner Paul asked her why she came home sick.  She told him she had a stomach ache.  He said that she seemed fine, is there any reason she might have a belly ache.

And then my 8 year old daughter says, "Stress, maybe"

DAMNIT!  That really blows!  I don't want my little girl to already be feeling so stressed out that it is coming out physically.  ARGH!

So, Paul asks her why she is stressed out.

"Uncle Greg" she says.

"Well, it is OK to be sad about Uncle Greg, but why are you stressed about it?"

"I didn't know that he was sick.  I never got to say goodbye."

My heart is absolutely breaking at this point.  Brianna doesn't know that Greg took his life.  I told her that he was sick, and the doctor's couldn't help, which in all actuality is the truth, but her brain could never process the entire reality right now.  We tried to explain that none of us really knew how sick he was, and that I was sad that I never got a real chance to say goodbye either.  I said that when we were at the cemetery after his funeral that was a place we said goodbye.

She is so sad.

She wrote a song that she sang for me about a month ago... I realize now that she is throwing out 'help me' signs.  I wrote a letter to the school's adjustment counselor in the hopes that he will see her, and give me some advice. 

Anyhow here is the song:

These are really the words of an 8 year old.

"Sad Prison"

"I've been living in sad prison

Since the day you died

I've been living in sad prison

I never got to say goodbye"

That is all I can remember for sure.  That is not embellished either.

I pray that I will make the right decisions for her.  I pray that her little heart will mend.  Two years have passed since Greg died, I just didn't expect her to be feeling so much.  I think that I have just recently been able to step out of my shell of greiving enough to notice how much she is still hurting.  He was a father figure to her.

I feel selfish for not noticing this earlier.

I watched the Amber Frey interview last night.  I just felt compelled to watch it. 

Hearing the stories about how evil and how much Scott lied really made me think of Nick the Prick.  I suppose liars carry similar traits.

The thing that really bothered me was that the girl is cashing in on such a tragedy.  I have no idea how much she got paid for being interviewed by Matt Lauer, but I bet it was a pretty penny.  Now she has a book out?  That really upsets me.

I watched the interview because I was irritated when I saw the advertisements, but I didn't want to pass judgement without seeing it for myself.  

I don't know.  It just bugs me.

So I just read a comment on this on another blog, and I remembered that I wanted to comment on it.  The halftime show from the football game last night featured some popular entertainment.  It was ended with Ashlee Simpson, and then ended with Boo's.

Oooh, harsh.  :) But funny :)

See here is the thing; I really want to like Ashlee Simpson.  I am the little sister of a beautiful beautiful woman.  My sister was and still is so beautiful and gets attention without even trying.  She has that "thing" that makes everyone stare at her.  Men with their girlfriends or wives with them stare at her.  I have never witnessed anything like it.

So, I can feel Ashlee's pain... her sister is super hot and talented.

BUT... Why does the girl sing songs that are WAY out of her range?  She is self defeating almost.  I think that she really depended on the fact that she would be able to have support vocals throughout her tour, and the Saturday Night Live thing totally blew that for her.  If she keeps trying to sing those songs, she will destroy whatever voice she actually owns, and this will be the only tour the girl goes on.

This also aggravates me for my own selfish reasons.  I am a singer.  I love to sing. I am finally at the place in my life where I can take compliments on my voice and say that I have a good singing voice.  I always wanted to be famous, I had all those dreams of me on stage with people filling every nook and cranny screaming my name.  But I am settling for being in a local Cover Band.

I actually feel like I am being strangled artistically by being in a cover band.  I am really pushing the guys to let us do original work, but they feel like we need to be more 'established' which is bullshit, because we play all the big bars in Boston, so they are just afraid if you ask me.  But at least I have some sort of outlet.

I hate that someone like Ashlee Simpson in all her awful live performances is famous just because of her family.  That totally sucks, but it is how the game is played.  I also can blame myself for not pushing myself further, I really wish I had believed in myself earlier in my life when I didn't have so many responsibilities.  I still want to do my own music, but I just don't expect to be singing for the huddled masses anymore.

Man I am so jealous of untalented famous people!  :(

had a one night stand? 

I am curious... and I don't think that one night stands only consist of sex...  you could have a night that you really REALLY thought you connected with someone, and then never saw them again..

My birthday was December 7th, Pearl Harbor Day, for those of you who care.  Paul bought me a few sweet things, one of them being tickets to see The Blue Man Group in town TONIGHT! 

I am very excited for a couple reasons:

• We haven't really gone on a "date" since we moved into the condo.
• I need a night out so bad!
• I get to look pretty for a reason.
• I saw Blue Man group before, but it was with Nick the Prick, and he was evil to me, and made me cry in the theatre.  (They pulled me up on the stage though)
• The stage will be set for late night romance!  bir-chic-a-bir-biir!  :)

How exciting are a group of blue men that don't talk!!! :)

I hope it still ends with everyone playing with toilet paper! :)

It's the little things, you know! :)

Now, not that I like my job or anything, but as I type this, there is a girl that used to know my boss in the other room begging him for a job!!  WTF????

SHE IS RELENTLOUS!!!!!!!!!!  I almost want to go in there and say,

"Yo bitch, you got a friggin problem?  Wassup witchu tryin to take my job bitch?"

and then I can pull her hair and kick her in the face!

:)

OK... I won't do that, but c'mon man!  STOP IT, you're pissing me off!

(She just said that she would clean the toilets!)  HUH?

She just left... it was kinda funny at the end though, because the attorney was trying to get her to leave, and she kept asking if he was going to come to her house tonight, and he was like... not tonight, I can't.  So she was like well, what is your home address Ill come over.. and he was like not tonight...

It really seemed at the end of the whole thing that this 23-25yr old girl wanted to sleep with 50-something year old "Mr. Quirky"!

Turns out that she got arrested for peeing on public property and needs representation, but can't afford it. 

Classic.

OK, I am crazy psycho post girl today, and I figured I might as well at least make it my lucky number so this will be my 7th post today.  (What is wrong with me?)

I actually just didn't want my most current blog to be about that chicky-poo.

So I am going to leave you with another question till tomorrow, and I am looking for HONESTY.  I don't want to judge anyone, and I don't want anyone who replies to judge anyone else who replies.  I am just really curious.  As I did today, I will answer the question myself tomorrow.

Do you think that suicide is selfish?

Now, I realize that I have opened up a HUGE can of worms.  But as a survivor of suicide, I am so curious as to how the majority of people view it.

For my personal experiences in depth, you may click here, or here.

My brother was suicidal for a very long time before he actually succeeded.  We were scared, and afraid.  We just wanted to get through each incident and make it out on the other side alright.    None of us knew how to handle it, or the right thing to do.  I felt extra close to him, because I really truly understood where he was coming from, as I suffered from suicidal thoughts also.

There are so many awful scary horrible nights in my memory.  He was in so much pain.  He was one of the most amazing people you could ever meet, and I am not glorifying him, it is the truth. 

I have been in that never ending hole of pain myself, and I witnessed my brother’s anguish for years.

Depression is a medical condition resulting from brain chemistry being off balance.  This can be regulated with medication.

Just as a diabetic needs insulin to regulate the levels of insulin in there bodies, a person with depression needs medication to regulate their brain chemistry.

If you had asked me years ago if I thought suicide was selfish, I probably would have said yes.  Once I spoke with my doctor about my depression my views changed.  When I lost my brother to suicide, I did a lot of research and now understand so much more.

In my opinion, the majority of suicides are not selfish acts, but a “permanent resolution to temporary pain”.  When one is in the unimaginable blackness, there seems no way out.  It can seem logical that suicide is the only way out.

I strongly believe that the general population needs to understand more about depression and suicide, so that we may prevent this tragedy from happening to more and more people and families.  If we had known more, if we knew what to do, or who to turn to, it is possible that we may have been able to help my brother. 

People who are feeling suicidal should not be looked down upon as being selfish, but instead as being desperate, and looking for help.  There is an end to the pain that doesn’t have to end a life, and once that is understood we might possibly be able to make a little difference in the percentage of deaths due to suicide. 

For more information you can check out THIS SITE which is run by a local organization that we hold an annual fundraiser in my brother’s memory to support. 

Loveshoe, do you have anything to add from your recent research?

I had a long weekend.  I stayed home with Brianna yesterday, It is always nice to start off the week with a little cuddle time! :)

Someone sent me a forwarded e-mail, and it had this little picture in it... I found it amusing!  :)

For as far back as I can remember I have had an inexplicable fear of public bathrooms, and more or less all bathrooms in general.  Yes, I am a freak; this is not news to me!  I have yearned for the meaning or the origination of the issue, but in all the therapy I have had in my life, and all my research I really can’t figure it out.

There are varying levels of this issue that I actually deal with throughout the day, every single day of my life.

Public Restroom Peeing:

First of all… ICK,  “hovering” over a toilet seat in the tiniest little smelly place known to mankind is a skill, which all women must acquire, and one that men simply cannot relate to.  My sister said yesterday at the gym that she doesn’t know why she can’t lift more weights with her Quads because she has to hover over public restroom toilets on a regular basis due to her traveling.  It really is a pain!

Second… I SIMPLY CANNOT PEE WHEN PEOPLE ARE LISTENING TO ME!  I am totally that chick who is hovering in the stall, legs shaking from holding herself up for about 15 minutes waiting for the chicks who are doing their makeup to friggin leave so I can pee.  There comes that point where it seems like they might think I am pooping, and I get nervous, and blow my nose.  That is a tactical move, to trick any other people in the restroom into thinking that I am just hovering in there because I have a friggin runny nose. 

            Finally when I realize that God has placed these chicks in the restroom in order to punish me for all my sins I flush the toilet as another diversionary tactic.  This is when the pee that I have been holding in starts to flow… ahhhhh…. But then the flush noise stops, and so does my pee.  DAMN!  So, flush again….pee…. much better.   At this point I have been in this stupid stall for a considerable amount of time, and I am convinced that the makeup chicks are going to put up a billboard about me pooping or something.  I hide my shoes as best as possible, so that there is no way they can identify me in public.  I pray that they will leave.  I hear the door open and close and only after that can I finally leave the stinky stall and walk to the sink.

            The first step to the sink I realize that I no longer have control over the leg muscles that I abused in order to hover in the little stinky stall for 25 minutes and I stumble over to wash my hands.  At this point whomever I was with before I went to the public restroom is issuing a missing persons report on me, because who the hell spends a half hour in a public restroom?   I walk back to join them with a walk that resembles a drunken John Wayne.  Now I am convinced that THIS person must think that I pooped, and that horrifies me.  This forces me to make up some absurd story about something that happened in the bathroom that rationalizes the whole situation.  

Public Restroom Peeing #2:

            You know those times that you have a tiny little gas that needs to come out before you can actually pee?  I HATE THAT!  I will actually torture myself with unbearable pain for hours on end, instead of letting anyone in a public restroom hear me fart.  For some reason I am perfectly comfortable with the fact that everyone has gas, I have even shared that wonderfully beautiful experience with Paul on a number of occasions, but I just cannot bear the concept of some anonymous person thinking that I am “the farting girl in the bathroom” or even worse, “the chick who is taking a dump” Horrific!  (Hear the music from psycho playing in the background?)

Peeing at someone’s house:

            Why is it that every time I am at a party, or a friend’s house, or the home of a friend of a friend, the bathroom door NEVER LOCKS?????   I cannot pee if I don’t know that the bathroom door isn’t locked.  The horror of someone walking in on me as I pee is enough to make me unable to go for days!

  When faced with this issue, I play with the door as many different ways as humanly possible to try to find an invisible locking device.  If none can be found this is when I have to do the unthinkable in another person’s bathroom and go in the linen closet to get something to insure that the door will jam in case someone tries to get inside as I make my pathetic attempt at relieving myself.

            Once I have checked and rechecked the door situation, I move on to the other inevitable bathroom issue:  WINDOWS!  How the hell do you people pee with a window RIGHT BESIDE THE TOILET??? This is unthinkable to me.  I pull the blinds, if there are no blinds I go back into the linen closet and grab a towel to cover the window, because I am convinced that there is a dirty old man that lives beside this house  who is living for the opportunity to video tape me peeing in his neighbor’s toilet.

            SHOWER CURTAINS:  I always have that awful gut feeling that someone is hiding behind that curtain.  Friggin Candid Camera is waiting for the exact moment that I start to pee to jump out from behind the shower curtain and film me!  So yes, I do look in EVERYONE’S bathtub/shower, it is absolutely necessary for me to relax enough to pee.

            Now I am usually comfortable enough to pee, when I realize that the people in this house will probably be able to hear me pee.  This is the point when I turn on the water faucet to let it run while I pee so that no one actually knows that I went into the bathroom to pee in the first place.

Peeing at Work:

            This completely sucks for me, because we already know that I have tremendous bathroom issues.  My office is so very small, and it is just the two attorneys here and I.  The bathroom is right behind me, (yes I hear them pee ALL THE TIME! ICK) and because my office is right beside the attorney’s office, he is quite capable hearing me pee also.  Every time I get up to go to the bathroom, the man has Pee-dar and starts friggin talking to me.  So, I have to open the bathroom door and tell him that I will be with him in a minute.  (This literally happens all the time!)  I also run the water (of course) so that he doesn’t hear me pee.  I try to make this trip as short as possible because it is one of the most uncomfortable bathroom trips that I make every day.  Upon leaving the bathroom I realize that the whole time I was in there the friggin attorney has been talking to me even though I said I would be with him in a minute.  I hate that.

Having to do Number Two while at work:

            I leave the office and go to my parent’s house down the street! 

Peeing at home:

            This shouldn’t be an issue right?  Well, I am a freak of nature so yes; I do have issues with the forces of nature requiring me to actually urinate in my own home.

            Paul and I just recently moved in together and bought a condominium.  For some reason I can fart in front of Paul, I can burp in front of Paul, I can walk around naked in front of Paul, I can pick my nose, clean out my ears, and shave my armpits in front of Paul.  (Sexy image isn’t it???)  J  But I just CANNOT bring myself to pee knowing that he can hear it.  The master bathroom doesn’t have a sink in it; the sink is in the vanity outside of the master bathroom.  Therefore, yes, I turn on the bathtub every time I pee, and he hates it!

Going to the bathroom in general:

            Aside from my obvious public restroom time issues, I have a mystery about my bathroom habits that has yet to be solved.  I enter the bathroom simply to pee, and leave the bathroom at least 30 minutes later, if not longer. 

Initially I thought this was due to restroom reading, but it has been brought to my attention that it happens in bathrooms that have no literature available.  I have been forced to accept the fact that every time I approach a toilet the toilet bowl emits a supersonic signal to the aliens and they abduct me to conduct scientific research experiments, therefore I lose minutes of my life each time I enter the restroom.

            When I was 10 years old my father told me a story about a guy that he worked with.  This guy lived in Boston and one day he heard a noise in his bathroom and when he went in there a rat was swimming in the toilet bowl.  Horrified he flushed the toilet, and was relieved that it went away.  His daughter screamed about an hour later because the rat had come back. 

            OK, That is friggin horrifying!  So every now and again while I am in the bathroom I remember that story and I start freaking out that a rat will come and bite me in the ass.

Bathroom dreams:   

            I always have dreams that revolve around the bathroom.  I have one specific recurring dream that I end up peeing in a Public Restroom, but the stall door only covers the bottom half of me, so people actually can see my face and torso while I pee.  I hate that friggin dream!  I hate it so much; it really destroys my whole day after having it. 

            I have dreams that I am in a normal everyday situation, like hanging out with friends, except I am sitting on the toilet.  I have dreams that I am in the middle of the mall on the toilet.  I have dreams that I am at a party in the bathroom and there is a huge hole in the floor so everyone on the first floor can see me pee.

I have become used to the fact that I have bathroom issues.  I have traveled far and wide in search of a cure for my strange obsessive problems.  Therapists, Psychiatrists, Doctors, have all shrugged their shoulders in confusion and just chalked it up to the fact that I am a complete freak of nature.

Now, please excuse me, I have to go pee.  J

I am quite aware that in many areas of the world life is chaotic and in complete shambles, but for selfish reasons today I am retreating into my own little materialistic world of self centered concern. 

I have a gig tonight, and it is our first of about a month or so, (maybe even longer than that now that I think of it) because we are still in an active quest to find a bass player who is remotely close to being human! :)  So we borrowed a bass player from another Boston band, and we are playing out tonight.

I am overall very excited about singing tonight, I have had the itch for a while and I really can't wait to get all my bottled up energy out!  But, here is my stupid issue for the day...

I am feeling fashion challenged at the moment!  I have lost enough weight in the past month that my clothes are a little too big, but I don't have enough money to buy anything new.  So, I am going to have to try to find a happy medium between my too-big fat clothes and my too-small skinny clothes and try to create something decent!

My hair is in between styles because I am trying to grow it back out long, so I am struggling to figure out a 'trendy'way to style it.  AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

Right now I am such a dorky wimpy girl!  :(

I have been searching the internet for a style that I can pull off with my clothes, and my hair, and I am at a loss. I think that I am going to start a new trend tonight... who knows what I will come out with!  hmmmmmm....

I hope this will be a good show!  I am going to go try to remember all my songs now, it has been so long!

Wow, I feel like I am losing brain cells, just admitting to today's dilemma. 

I am off to go be a shallow materialistic girl for the remainder of the day...

I hope you all have a great weekend!!!  For those who care this is my plans:

Tonight, as you know I have a gig and will be singing...

Tomorrow morning bright and early Paul and I are off to New Hampshire with his friends for what was supposed to be a ski trip

 but I don't ski, and the night before Christmas poor little Paul tore his patella tendon.. so I will be more than happy to spend that time in the lodge!!! :)

or tricking Paul's silly friends into thinking I don't know how to play poker!  Hee hee!!!!  :)

Sunday we will all be glued to the television to watch Tom Brady crush Peyton Manning!

and Monday we will observe Martin Luther King Day!

I hope you all have a kick ass weekend!  :) :)

First of all it is my Bostonian obligation to begin this post with a huge...

GO PATRIOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

That was a great game!  :)  This weekend was a great time!  My gig on Friday night went well, I went with the low cut shirt, and I think it worked well.

  (I am entitled to take creative license on my boob size!)   :)

There was this one girl in the audience who totally wanted Rick, the male singer... and she was quite amusing to watch from the stage!  She tried little subtle eye contact things, and then when that failed to accomplish her getting his attention she resorted to other means of gaining attention.

Which then got her all sorts of other attention from just about every guy in the building!   

Hee hee!  But, Rick was not fazed.  This makes me feel really good about men, as Rick is a happily married man, and gets hit on ALL the time, and does not falter in his commitment to his beautiful wife.  :)

I haven't really been drinking in a while, and I lost track of myself on Friday night, and I didn't realize that I was drunk until I noticed that I was throwing the F-bomb out into the crowd like it was going out of style!  Real classy Sue, Real Classy!  There are a few cheesy pop songs that we play when they are requested, and they pain me to sing because I feel like a wimple-stein, so apparently I decided if I added swears it would make me seem way cooler!  So picture me singing Michelle Branch's "Are you happy now?"  The words are "Would you look me in the eye, and tell me that you're happy now?"   My version???   "Fuckin' look me in the eye..."   Yea, I was drunk, but so was the crowd so I don't think they cared much!  Actually for some reason saying the f-bomb tends to make drunken people throw their hands in the air and scream with delight!  

 Sad testimony to humanity!

Needless to say I woke up late on Saturday morning for our trip to Loon Mountain, but we got there by 2:00 pm and we weren't missed too badly! 

By Saturday night, I had consumed about 5 of my own homemade Apple-tini's and thought that I was so awesome for not being drunk.  (Or possibly my stupid ass was still drunk from the night before and I was drinking myself sober...yes, I am a moron)  Now I shall share the details of the remainder of that night as best I can for the purpose of say, a Public Service Announcement, so that some of you may learn from my stupidity.

Yea, I was invincible!!!  We went out to dinner with his friends and I had a Hawaiian Seabreeze or two.   Confident that I am totally fine with my alcohol intake I go about my evening drinking my mixed drinks at the same pace as everyone else's beers.

Upon returning back to the rental unit, I challenged the boys to a game of Texas Hold'em!  I was kicking some serious ass.  

I don't really remember the way the game ended, but I knocked the game down to me and two other guys before my memory started to get fuzzy....

...The next thing I remember I am in the bathroom with two of Paul's friend's girlfriends and I am in tears crying about my brother.  (Kids, this is reason #1 not to drink!)  I have no idea how much time I spent in there crying about Greg dying, but I am sure that at least five hours elapsed in that time that seems a mere 3 minutes in my memory. 

I awake in the morning/afternoon wearing my bra and the pants I wore the night before. Without realizing that I am only wearing my bra I head to the bathroom. One of his friends was on his way out of the bathroom and I think my boobs might have freaked him out a bit...  (oops)  I was a bit embarrassed.  (Kids, #2 reason not to drink.)

Upon completely awakening and reviewing the details of the evening, pieces started to come together in my shaky memory and I am convinced that I need to take some serious time off of alcohol. 

My recollection of the poker game was correct that I was kicking some serious ass!  I was the chip leader out of the 3 of us who were left in the game, and this is the point where Paul describes it as "sudden deterioration".  The game had to be ended by forfeit apparently, as I couldn't seem to keep my heaping pile of chips on the top of the table, and was crawling around the floor under the table.  (Reason #3 not to drink.)

Upon the completion of this poker game I decided to go upstairs to the loft where Paul and I were sleeping.  I guess Paul's friends were asking where I was and I got upset and started throwing things at them from the loft..  I guess it started with a lamp shade, and then evolved into my clothes... why?  No friggin idea!  (Reason #4 not to drink.)

This is when the girls came to my rescue to see what was wrong, and I decided to go on and on about Greg...  for about an hour and a half.  (If you recall, this was my first reason not to drink.) Thankfully, from what I hear the girls were under the influence also, and really didn't notice how much time had gone by in the bathroom crying.  (Yes, my crying did also make them cry.)

So, Paul comes up to me and takes me to bed.  I insist on taking off my sweatshirt, (This particular sweatshirt was made for me by one of my friends at customglamgirl.com and it says , "My  Belongs to Paul".)  I assume that I was trying to make Paul upset because I wasn't wearing that sweatshirt, but quite honestly, I have no real explanation for that.  (Reason #5 not to drink.)

With my sweatshirt off, I want to go back downstairs with his friends, and he has to pull me back up the ladder to the loft a few times. :(    (Reason #6 not to drink.)

I had planned on a bootylicious evening with Paul, and promised him the same, I am quite sure we both expected some good ol' lovin' and instead he got this (Reason #7 not to drink.)

Sunday when I awoke, oh the pain!!!  (Reason #8 not to drink.)

It wasn't until about 4:00 pm after drinking about a gallon of water when I threw up (Reason #9 not to drink.), that I felt better.  

The Patriots winning helped a little bit though.  

I was pretty embarrassed about the night before, and felt pretty bad that I acted so ridiculous.  (Reason #10 not to drink.)  But luckily the other girls got a little out of control too, and plenty of other drunken behavior ensued after I passed out,  so I wasn't the focus of attention on Sunday.  :)

Overall I had a good weekend, I just wish I had kept better track of my drinking, it would have made for a much better time.  :)

Oh, and I made up for Paul's Saturday night  the next night!  bir-chica-bir-biiiir!!!

I hope everyone had a good weekend! :)

OK all, here is my big confession... this could change the way you view me forever, this could make you think I am a cheesy sell-out freak of nature, or you could also realize that I am just the shit, and I don't care what people think and I decided I wanted to do something and it was wicked fun, and I am glad I tried.... are you ready????

I auditioned for American Idol.  

 Yup, I really did, this summer in Washington DC, it is how I met Loveshoe, and I made a couple other good friends when I went on that trip.  Now the reason I chose to blog about this today is because the series premiere was last night.  Watching this made me really angry, but not because I didn't get picked, but because it was so totally cruel now that I understand the way things work.

For my personal audition experience you may click HERE it is a bit long, but I wrote it right when I got home so that I wouldn't have to recount my experience over and over and over and over again....(just make sure that when you are done reading the page you go back to the top of the page and click 'next')

Now for the reason that I got pissed off...

I assumed from watching the show that you go and wait in line to audition for Randy, Paula, and Simon.  This is not true.  You wait in line to sing for an associate producer and some assistant or something, and this is the first audition.  Upon passing this audition you go to another audition for the producers of the show, and this is the second audition.  Finally you get the opportunity to sing for the television judges

  AFTER making it through 2 other auditions! :(

So herein lies my issue with the show.   I met SO MANY talented people, but I also met people with NO TALENT whatsoever who honestly believed that they did have talent. 

These people who have no singing ability whatsoever, and you imagine that they are completely blocked off from the real world because apparently no one has ever told them that they can't sing, they exist, and their passion for music is just as strong as anyone who can sing well.

Two different types of people made it through the first 2 auditions before getting through to the celebrity judges; the talented people who fit the mold of the idol they were looking for this season, and the untalented people they were picking for comedic value. 

Some of the untalented people were completely aware of the fact that they can't sing, and they were auditioning for fun, because they wanted to be on TV.  (Hence the girl with the fruit on her head who sang, "Eat it" ) :) The problem is the majority of the people that I saw on the show last night really appeared to believe that they can actually sing, and they were truly hurt, and rightly so. :( 

OF COURSE they were crushed, OF COURSE they were crying!! Before they were humiliated on National Television they made it through two auditions that thousands of other people didn't make it through, based on what they believed was their talent.  They were made to believe that they were good enough to be on this show, that they could sing, just so they could be brought in front of these judges so that they can be publicly humiliated.  :( Two separate auditions they were confirmed that they had talent... think about that. 

I watched the show last night, and I remember watching it season after season and laughing at these people that really think that they can sing, and then leave crying.  I laughed because I couldn't believe that someone so talentless could really believe they had a chance. 

Last night, I actually cried with a couple of the people... I was so disgusted that they would take these poor souls and lead them on only to dump them on their ass on national TV. 

They way the whole thing was edited made it seem like there was only that one audition in front of the judges, but the TV judges weren't even in the area during the first 2 auditions, reality TV is so strange. 

So, if you watch the remaining audition shows, think about the fact that these people have been  justified that they do have talent by making it through 2 auditions before they were ripped apart. 

You won't believe the producers could be so mean. :(

No matter how you feel about the election results, you should think this is funny, or cute at the very least.  :)

Click Here

So I am doing it... Day One of my "Cleansing"  and I am already miserable...

Here is how it all began:

I was listening to Howard Stern a few months back and they were talking about how Robin lost a ton of weight on the "Lemonade Fast" otherwise known as "The Master Cleanser".  This intrigued me, and I did a little research.  Turns out this was the same fast I had bought the book about a few years back when I actually was skinny and was pretty anal about everything that I ate.   I searched through my old books and found it, "The Master Cleanser" by Stanley Borroughs.

I thought about it for a while and decided that it was probably a little extreme for me at the time, with the holidays coming and all... so I put it back in my bookcase for a day I was feeling more daring.

That came last night. 

While on the way home from vacation this past weekend, I watched "Super Size Me" on Brianna's portable DVD player.  This movie totally made me re-think about how much crap is actually inside our system due to processed food, and all the nasty preservatives and chemicals and yucky yucky yuck yuck!!!!!!!!!  The remainder of this week I thought about doing some type of colonics to clean out my system, and then I remembered this book.

This consists of drinking a "lemonade"mixture for a minimum of 10 days and maximum of 40 days.  This mixture is:

2 Tbsp Fresh Lemon Juice

2 Tbsp Genuine Maple Syrup

1/10 Tsp Cayenne pepper

10 oz. Spring water

Drink 6-12 glasses daily.

This can be supplemented with a laxative tea at bed time, a fresh salt water internal wash in the morning and peppermint tea when desired.

Can I tell you that I am wicked siked to do this right now?

Well I'm really not, because I am already discovering how much it sucks, but I am still going to try to do it for 10 days.  Consider it my own little experimental documetary experiment.  Maybe I will do a blog just about the nastiness of this fast....hmmm even if no one else reads it, it would be good for me to keep for myself... I think I might do that.  :)  We'll see.

So here I go, off to 'cleanse' my system of all the toxins and nastiness that is allegedly hiding out inside of it...

mmmmmmm yummy!  :)

Yup, in order to not bore those who do not wish to hear my lemonade related bitching, etc I have created my own Diet Documentary Blog.  :)

If you want to keep up with that feel free!  :)

http://cleansing.mindsay.com/

I am such a dork! :)

The reason I ask the vacation question...

Today I asked 'Mr. Quirky' if I could take off the last week in February (Brianna's school vacation) so that I could take Brianna to the Cape. 

The man FLIPPED OUT!!!

He acted like I was the most ridiculous person on the planet, and told me I need to give him at least 3 months notice when I want to do these things.

WHAT???

I figured that I was right, that a month should be acceptable, the man just really pisses me off.

He has been yelling at me ever since I asked.  This shit is so not worth what I get paid.

Calgon take me away!!!!!!!!

For some reason, the worst thing in the world that could ever happen to me is happening...............

I am becoming domesticated.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!

What the hell?  This was never supposed to happen, I wasn't supposed to cook and clean and do laundry!  I just wasn't. 

I was supposed to be a rock star and pay people to do that for me,

or one better, let my husband stay home and do it for me.

WHO THE HELL AM I??????

I used to be able to go for days without sleep, I could party and rock and who cared if my room was a mess, who friggin cares about that shit?  Right?  That was me, that was ME!!!

I don't want to be Martha Stewart, I don't want to be Susie Homemaker!!! 

Tonight, I am delegating responsibilities.
Brianna is old enough for chores, and she will do the dishes. 
Paul is a teacher, and he gets home at 3:30 PM - He needs to make dinner!

Thank God for the band, or I would really feel like I was losing my cool-ness.  At least I get praised at least once every two weeks by a twenty-one year old telling me that I rock...  what will I do when that is over???

At the rist of getting Dooce’d  I need to vent...

THE MAN JUST YELLED AT ME AN PUT HIS FINGER IN MY FACE!

Oooh, I am so all set with you putting your finger in my face mister!  I totally yelled back, because that was so completely uncalled for.  He is just stressed out because he is going on vacation on Monday so he let his OCD take over and he was flipping out!

Wow, I really need to start looking for someplace else.  :(

(Sorry I am too pissed for smiley's right now) arrrrrrrgh!

                              GO PATRIOTS!!!!!!!!!!!

See you on Monday!!!!!!!!!  Have a Great Weekend!!!!!!!!!!!

I can see into the future:

(Have I mentioned how much I love Lemons?)

blog  to keep you up to date on how the lemon thing is working out.  :)

The Patriots won!  Woo Hoo!!!!

I am at my parents house at the moment, because the parking lot at my work has not yet been plowed, and that aggravates me.  I just want to go back home now, but we all know how well that would go over with Mr. Quirky! :)

I plan to update more when I get to work.  :)

Hope everyone had a good weekend! :) :) :) :)

I dragged Brianna out in the snow on Saturday night for pictures, but the camera would only focus on the snow... it was so frustrating!!

That's better, there's my beautiful girlie! :)

This next picture I took this morning while I was at my parent's house waiting for my work to get plowed, it is my little niece on my parent's porch, I thought it was amazing how high the snow was.  :)

(The picture is Brianna's friends playing with pillows on their heads.. I have no idea what they were doing, but they fell a hundred times.)

Don't use pledge to clean your hardwood floors, that and socks is a very dangerous combination, I learned that lesson this weekend... ouch!  :(

Unfortunately for time constraint purposes this will be a smiley central free post, and that bums me out, but there is work to be done before 5PM.  I am in the process of loading my photos onto photobucket, so that I can accurately share them. Thanks to all who helped me out on that one.

If I don't have a good post up by later today, goddamnit, I better have a good one tomorrow! :)

I am off to post a little update in my other blog.  I love the lemons! :)

Can you see it?? :)

Spongebob is  a fun guy to practice with!

If this works, I will have my snow pics up tomorrow no problem! :)

Since it appears that we are going to get about another foot of snow today... I will post those pictures I had intended on posting the other day...

I was trying to get a picture of Brianna during the storm, but the camera would only focus on the snow... :)

Here is my sweetie! :)

Isn't she so beautiful???  (I know!)  :)

I took this next picture at my parents house yesterday morning, it is my neice and the snow outside my parent's sun room.  :)

I can't believe that it is snowing again, I am totally bummed about that.  If it keeps up like this I am going to leave work.

Jet - Are you gonna be my girl?

I am sitting here at work and I am listening to this song, and thinking about how friggin cool I am because I am in a band!  :)

Yea... Wicked Cool.

We play this song, and Rick sings it.

While Rick sings this song, what do I do???   Well, since you asked... I (much to my dismay and protest, because I don't want to be that cheesey chic in the band), I play the tamborine.   

Unfortunately, this happens to be one of the songs that actually necessitates using the tamborine, and throughout the entire song.

I hate playing the tamborine, I feel like a member of The Partridge Family.

So, picture this: the band is rocking out...

Ren is wailing on the guitar ,

Mike is busting out on the drums ,

whoever we have filling in on the bass that particular day is jammin' ,

Rick is belting out the song ,

and all the girls are thinking he is Oh So Sexy!!!  

 Now turn to the side of the stage where my microphone is...

Sue is playing the Tamborine!  oooooohhhhhh  

All the while this is what is going on inside my brain:

"1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4..ok, I am on beat, so that's a good thing... I wonder if these lights make me look funny, maybe they are making me look fatter... Oh, that guy over there is looking at me like maybe the lights do make me look fat... I hate playing this stupid tamborine, I feel like a dork, I think I will but on a cheesy grin and sway back and forth, ugh would you look at that girl in the front row falling over herself...I wonder if she knows that her pants are falling down and she looks like her bra has her boob in a headlock... 1, 2, 3, 4.....Shit, this is hurting my arm... I am such a wuss, I can't even play the stupid tamborine for half of a song... ugh.... let's see, how can I switch hands without ruining the beat???  Maybe if I just.... ugh that's better!  Oh, Shit, I can't play the tamborine with my left hand!  Where is the beat again... 1, 2, 3...no...1, 2...shit..1, 2, 3, 4, OK, that's it... it really isn't easy being ambidextrous and sucking in my gut at the same time!  Shit, now this arm already hurts!  I haven't even been playing on this side long enough for it to hurt.  Shit shit shit!!!!!!!!!!  Switch again... Ahhh better... Wow, that guy looks like he is going to puke... 1, 2, 3, 4... 1, 2, 3, 4.... When is this song ever going to be over, my arm is super tired, and I want to sing again.... what if I try banging the tamborine on my hip... hmmm this kinda works, but I feel cheesy... maybe if I put on a sexy face it will look intriguing... oh yea, look at me, I am banging the tamborine on my sexy hip.. you know you like it.. screw it I feel like a loser, back to my hand..Oh, it looks like that girl is going to make out with that other girl right in front of us, (Turn to my drummer to acknowledge, and he grins widely) Holy shit, they just don't care, I think they are just going to go at it right here in front of everyone... whatever, to each his own... hmm...I wonder if I could ask the sound guy to change the lights so they hit different areas of the stage, that might make me more comfortable...1, 2, 3, 4.... I shouldn't have worn these shoes, they are cute, but now my feet hurt like I have them in a press...whatever, as long as it makes me look alright... man, I feel shallow and materialistic, I hate that... I always made fun of those girls in high school, and now I feel like I am becoming one, am I shallow and materialistic? nah... I am in a band, I am allowed to be vain every once in a while... Why is everyone staring at me like that?? Hmmm, whatever dudes... Ohhhhhh.. I guess the song ended, my bad, I'll stop banging this damn tamborine then....oops"

Yea, so I am not so into playing the tamborine, and I used to love that song, but my opinions of it have changed since it has caused me so much pain at the gigs.

(Did I make up for my lack of smiley's yesterday?)

When I was at my parent's house the other day, I took some pictures of things I made, that I haven't taken home yet.  I figured I would share them today, as I am a bit too busy to enter a decent blog.  :)

This is a painting that I made on my brother's birthday last year, we released balloons into the sky in his memory, and I wanted to paint it.

This is a sketch I did when I was 18 during a particularly difficult time in my life.  It is nice to have this, because it reminds me that I got through that.

This is a watercolor I made for my Mom, I don't remember when, but I remember she came home from a craft fair and was talking about these paintings that had actual shells attached to them, so I tried it, and I glued real sand to the beach.

This is a painting I made in 2001.  I was very very depressed.  Once again, it is these pictures that I cherish, because I made it through that awful blackness.

This is actually a painting I just did this year for my friend Karen.  She was engaged to my brother when he died, and smiley faces have become a symbol for him.  He used to wear these tie-dyed T-shirts with smiley faces on them.. so I made this for her as a little reminder.

I dunno, I just figured I would share!  :) Hope you are having a good day!

Stay tuned, tomorrow I really want to talk about condoms... funny thing happened last night.  :)

Reading this post means that you are 18 or over, and if you choose to read it and you are under the age of 18, you understand that I am in no way corrupting you or influencing you to have sex... OK???? 

Alright that being said.

  CONDOMS!!!!!!!!!

There is a whole lot to be said about Condoms... first of all, in my opinion, they are a necessity in any sexual relationship until at least a year has passed, the girl is on birth control, it is definitely a committed relationship, and both partners have been tested.  Personally, ever since I got pregnant at 19 years old while using a condom, I have been a regular user of both birth control pills and condoms... that eliminates that monthly stress if you are a half a day late... oh, that is awful!!!  :)

Condoms, Condoms, Condoms….

There are a wide variety of condoms available nowadays it is actually quite amazing.  You have lubricated, non lubricated, large, extra large, thin, ultra thin, custom made for those extra extra large hogans that need a bit more attention, ribbed for her pleasure..(Not quite sure what those are really supposed to do), French tickler, colored, glow in the dark, flavored, condom lollipops, condom pins…I could go on and on and on and on…. 

I am amazed that there are people in this world that get paid good money thinking about penises all day long… man how did I miss out on that job???  Or, to be one of the people who gets paid to test them out???  Me me!!! Pick me!!! J

What inspired me to write this post was an incident that happened to me two nights ago.  It got me to thinking...

First of all, plenty of people have sex nowadays, so why is it that buying condoms is so embarrassing?  You see someone casually walking up and down the aisle that is right beside the condoms… hmmmm, I wonder what they are looking for? 

Having a boyfriend who teaches in the town that you live in can be quite annoying at times.  Quite annoying!  :)  I haven’t shared the incident from the other night with Paul, and I don’t intend on telling him.  It will only make him totally stressed out and embarrassed, so I trust you not to hunt me down and find my boyfriend and tell him this, OK?  OK.

Paul has already told me that he will only buy condoms late at night in the next town over, because he has been embarrassed in the past, and tries to avoid meeting parents or students when he makes such purchases.  Therefore, when I notice that supplies are down, instead of dealing with a temporary drought in my sex life, I venture out into the great wide world on a quest for my fine rubber friends! :)

The self-checkout line at the supermarket seemed like a good option last month, when I was grocery shopping!  I figured it was perfect because I didn’t have to worry about the embarrassment of the little boy at the checkout holding my condoms in his little hands, looking at them with a grin on his face.  It just seemed like the right answer. 

So I have all my groceries and I am checking them all out on my own, scanning them, they go down the belt, no problemo I am golden.  Finally I get to the last item… my Trojans.  DUHN DUH DUH!!!!  I scan them….Good… I place them on the belt…. suddenly my worst fears come true… the light starts flashing… the stupid horrific robot voice starts wailing out of the machine…”PLEASE STAND BACK, WE MUST HAVE A CASHIER COME TO THIS REGISTER AND FIX THIS SITUATION!!! WE KNOW THAT YOU SCANNED THIS FINE, AND PUT IT ON THE BELT, BUT WE MUST EMBARRASS YOU PUBLICLY, WE MUST SHINE THIS GOD AWFUL POLICE STROBE LIGHT THROUGHOUT THE STORE WITH MY SHREWD ROBOT VOICE YELLING TO EVERYONE WITHIN A FIVE MILE RADIUS, SO PLEASE STEP BACK AND ALLOW YOUR PUBLIC RIDICULE TO BEGIN!”

Shit! Shit! Shit!!!!

Suddenly this High School Guy comes rushing over to my rescue with his special register keys in his hands… this heroic prince has come to rescue me from my register prison!  He walks up to me, and says, “Can I help you ma’am?”   

“Ummm… yea, I think so.”

“Alright then let’s see… what was the problem..Oh!  I see..”  This is where his face starts turning red, and he starts stuttering, “um, well, uh.. I have t-t-t-to reset t-t-t-the m-machine here…uh…um…(coughs) we w-w-will have t-t-t-t-to r-r-re-scan t-t-t-the c-c-c-c-con…. the product, um, the product for you..”

He rescans the condoms, sends them off on their merry way down the belt, and starts bagging my stuff for me while I pay.  

He hands me my bags and says, “Have a nice time…uh… I mean..night….no, I mean day… Have a nice day!”  and runs away with his head down.

I walk out the door laughing so hard I almost pee my pants.

That incident influenced the way that I went shopping the night before last.  On my way home from work I stopped at the local drug store.   I picked up the necessary distraction items that I by no means needed such as a magazine, some aspirin, batteries, and then my Trojan friends! :)

I go up to the cash register, and the girl is looking at me funny. She says to me, “Don’t you live down the street from Lea So-and-so?”

I reply, “Yes, well, I used to, my parents live on that street.”

She says, “Oh, Lea is my best friend!  Oh My God, aren’t you Mr. Paul’s girlfriend?”

Thinking ‘Oh shit’ I reply, “Yes, I am.”

She says, “Oh My God, I love him, He was my junior varsity coach two years ago, he is the best!”

I say, “Thank you” and smile. :D

This is when she picks up the condoms to scan them, and her face started turning purple, and a sheepish looking grin comes over her face…  she takes my money, and is barely breathing.  At this point, I know that she wants to crack up laughing, and I am biting my tongue trying not to laugh myself.  Giving me my receipt she says, “Here you go, have a nice day, tell Mr. Paul that Chrissie So-and-so says Hi.”

“I will”, I lie.

As I am walking out the door, I hear her crack up laughing and say to her fellow cashier, “Oh My God, Mr. Paul is getting laid tonight…hee hee hee!!!!”

Now, to me, this is SOOO FUNNY!!!!  But would be enough for Paul to have a heart attack on the spot. :)

A couple unrelated condom stories that I find quite funny…

The first time I ever attempted putting on a condom for someone I was trying so hard to be sexy, but I had no idea what the hell I was doing!!!!  He was lying down and had his eyes closed, and I was fumbling around with this thing trying to figure out which way is which, and the next thing I knew, I must have stretched it or something, because it went flying up into his face and hit him in the eye!    I thought that was funny, he really didn’t. :)

When I was dating Brianna’s Dad, who I like to refer to as “The Sperm Donor” he came home one day all excited and said he had a ‘surprise’ for me.  Later on that night, he turns out the lights, and walks in the door, and all I see is this little glowing pole moving towards me in the dark.  “What the hell is that???”  I ask… he laughs and comes over to me so that I can see that it is a glow in the dark condom… I laugh…and laugh and laugh…so hard that the sex was ridiculous… I couldn’t stop laughing, and that doesn’t help the mood.   After attempting to ‘get-it-on’ for a little while, we had to stop, because every time I started to get serious I burst into laughter… when he walked away from me he started cracking up laughing at me…. He came back over to me, and said “Sue, lay down, and look at me” I lay down, and I look at him, he has pushed himself up so his face is between my legs, and his face is illuminated in the dark.   “Whoa, why does your face look like that???” 

He instructs me to look at myself closer, and I realize that the god-awful glow powder had rubbed off all over my tweeter! :)  It was pretty funny.  I had the hiccups all night long.

When I was a kid, I remember being at the beach  and making a ‘sand-bomb’.  I distinctly remember my Dad totally flipping out on me, and making me drop my ‘sand-bomb’ and rushing me to the bathroom to wash my hands with scalding hot water.  I cried and cried, and couldn’t understand how he could be so mean.  That incident was burnt into my memory and I never understood why he was so mean :( … that is until I got old enough to realize that my fun little “sand-bomb” was a discarded condom that I had innocently filled with sand, and decided to smack up against all my family members making the noise of a bomb exploding! 

ICKY!

:)  Look you guys --- Free Trojans    Free Condoms   

Any other embarrassing/funny condom stories???

I was watching 'Little Black Book' this weekend, and there was a scene in the movie that made me think of my last doctor's appointment.

I love my doctor, she has got the best personality, and she tells it like it is. 

Anyhow, it was time for my yearly exam, and also time for my annual gyno check-up.  During this check up, as she is sitting at the foot of the doctor's table, spot light shining on a part of my body that my Mommy told me was private from the world, inspecting every inch of my womanhood, she pays me a strangely appreciated compliment.

"Did you give birth to your daughter vaginally?" she asks.

"Yes." I reply, a little nervous as to why she was asking that question.

"You have a perfect vagina." she says.

"What?  Really?" I replied with a bit of a smile on my face.

Now, I know that this sounds a bit odd, and possibly like my doctor was all up in my Kool-Aid hitting on me, but I assure you that is not the case.

"Do you do exercises? You must do exercises, because the muscle is in incredible shape." she asks me.

"Ummm... yea, I got a little nervous after I had Brianna, because I laughed and pee'd my pants, so ever since then I have been obsessively doing Kegel exercises."  I replied, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, they certainly work!  You would never know that you had a child!" she says, adding while she laughs, "you must be an incredible sexual partner."(Why yes I am!)  :)

I know that most people would be a bit uncomfortable hearing that from their doctor, but we have a pretty good relationship, and there isn't much that goes unsaid between us. 

I asked her to make me a T-shirt that says, "I have a perfect vagina"

I haven't gotten it yet, but if I ever did get one, you can be sure that I would wear it.

Thought you'd enjoy that little factoid about me! :)

Last night I went to the liquor store on the way home...

AND THEY DIDN'T CARD ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  :(

They call him 'Dosie', not by his first name, but by this nickname created on a twist of the beginning of his last name.  'Dosie' was an amazing spirit, his presence was known the instant he walked into a room.  His smile was electric, his laughter was contagious, his eyes held the view of a loving spirit that was struggling in silent pain.  Dosie had the ability to tell a story in a way that made it seem palpable.  His arms flailing, his voice changing to fit all the characters in his tale, story telling was one of his many gifts.  I spent many a night at some party or another, just watching him... just watching my brother entertain countless people.. everyone surrounding him, smiling, laughing... Dosie was everyone's friend.

As a child he was nervous, and lonely.  We were the youngest two children out of five, and the house was riddled with dysfunction.  Countless nights we would be awoken to drunken fights or physical and verbal confrontations.  Life in the home was tense and he never knew when someone was going to explode.  He never liked fighting, and he ran away when things got intense.  I remember hiding in the closet with him, waiting for fights to be over.  I remember being his little sister, but knowing that he needed me alot more than I needed him in those moments.  He was fragile.

When he graduated from high school something changed.  He found himself, he found his confidence, he became 'Dosie'.

Hair colors would change like underwear!  His fashion was always a statement.  I never knew there were so many different ways to shave a goatee.  :)   He was so much fun, he was so happy, he was so funny, everyone wanted to be around him.  'Dosie' was a magnet.

All the while, that little boy was still inside of him hiding in the closet... and you really needed to look into his eyes to see it. 

When the sadness overwhelmed him, and the pain became unbearable... I didn't know any better except to get him through that night...  except to tell him that I love him, no matter what, and that we would get through this.

He reciprocated and was always there for me when I needed him... he was by my side when I was pregnant and all alone.  He was and still is my best friend.

We always got through it... always.

The night that he died, he called me and I was sleeping, I didn't answer the phone.

I woke up to a phone call two hours later saying that he had tried to take his life...

I don't blame myself now... but I did blame myself then.  I couldn't stop thinking about it... I couldn't stop remembering all of the awful nights that we made it through.

I think about my brother now, and the first thing that I do is smile. I smile because I realize that he wasn't defined by his depression... he was 'Dosie' and he was the shit!  He was an amazing friend, uncle, brother, son, father...  I am blessed that I had him in my life for 26 years.  I am blessed that I had a friendship with this truly incredible man.  I will never forget him, nor will anyone who crossed his path.

I like to talk about him... I like to share old memories... I like to laugh at his jokes.  Sometimes this makes people uncomfortable because they aren't sure how to react, why am I laughing or smiling when I am talking about my brother who is dead?  Why can't I just leave well enough alone??

'Dosie' is not dead, he is not gone, his body in the flesh is not with us here on earth, but he is most definitely still around.  He is dancing on the dance floor, he is laughing with me, he is kissing his daughter, he is wishing he could comfort my parents... I know he is here, nothing could ever kill the incredible spirit that is 'Dosie'. 

I miss my brother so much, that there aren't any words in any dictionary of any language that could convey that.  I am sure that the definition is hiding somewhere inside my eyes,  I am sure it will be felt the day that I get married, or when I go to his daughter's graduation... I miss being able to hug him, and watch him play with Brianna.  I miss him kicking my ass.  I miss everything about him in the flesh, but I still feel his spirit with me every day.

Don't be sad for me, don't be sad...  take a moment to stand up and run out the door and moon someone you don't know!  Dance like crazy the next time you hear "The Humpty Dance"!   Laugh, love, and live each day to the fullest! 

I don't know the exact reason I decided to post about Greg, but I just felt the need to share.  Please don't be sorry for me... I am lucky to have shared my childhood with him, and blessed to be one of his friends.

I haven't been feeling 100% lately, actually I have been sick.  I have been a bit tired  and my throat a little sore, with a headache and a small temp.  I have been in work every day, and haven't complained once. 

I have cooked dinner,

I have cleaned,

and functioned as the stupid domestic diva that I am unfortunately morphing into... 

What the hell is my point you ask????

Yesterday the love of my life stumbled in the door after work and practically collapsed on the floor. 

"I have the flu." he moans as he plops himself onto the couch.

"What?  Do you have a fever honey?"

"No."

"Have you been naseus?"

"No."

"What is wrong then honey?"

"My head is exploding,

my back is about to break, I can't even swallow because my throat is so sore...

I know I have the flu."  he replies.

I try to bring him back down to earth, rubbing his shoulders I say, "Sweetie, I have had a little cold this past weekend, you probably caught that, it will go away soon."

"No, it can't be, this is REALLY bad." he tries to convince me with his most pathetic 'help me mommy' face.

This is where the deja-vu sets in. I have been here before.  I have been blessed with a relationship with the man of my dreams, who was also raised as an ENORMOUS Mama's boy. 

I, on the other hand, am not his mother.

He continued to mope around the condo, moaning, sighing, coughing...  "oooohhh my throat....ooooohhh my back....ooooh ooooh  ugh ugh..."

Why is it that Paul claims that as a man he has a 'high tolerance for pain', yet when he gets the same ailment as me, he can't function like a normal human being?  Why does Paul think that his cold is any worse than mine was? 

This morning he woke up refreshed, and feeling "much better".

I made him coffee and gave him some medicine, and he says, "Thank you honey, but I feel much better today, I don't need the medicine." 

Some flu eh? 

Last night, after a long hard day I took a jacuzzi bath... ahhhh relaxing, wonderfulness it helped ease my tensions that had built through the day, and left me feeling calm and peaceful. 

I floated on air to the bed of roses that I share with my Handsome Prince.  I rest my head on his chest, listening to the wonderful rhythm of his heartbeat...as his breath choreographs with my own... he runs his fingers through my hair and tells me he loves me.  Just that little touch sends shivers up and down my back.

He rolls over and holds me, he kisses me, and it is deep and passionate and loving. 

I surround myself in his arms, inhaling his scent, not wanting to be anywhere but there with him... unable to imagine my life without him.  I go to kiss him again, with all the passion that had been building within my soul....

I kiss him, he begins to speak... I watch his lips move slowly, thinking how sexy he is... "we gotta go down tha line" he mumbles...

"what?" I reply in my most perplexed tone.

"Fifty yard line..gotta go down the line..."  he shoots up into sitting position with an empty stare in his face.

Yea... he was sleeping... I am a dork... What romance!  :)

I copied everyone else, and I decided to play on Art.com  :)

http://artpad.art.com/?ibcwjd11cks8

I am not afraid to admit it, and I know this will make many people cringe, but my favorite part of the Super Bowl (besides Adam Vinitiari's adorable bum-bum) has always been the half-time show and the commercials.

Not that I don't enjoy Paul McCartney's music...

but where were the scantily dressed dancers, synchronizing their dance steps? 

 Where was Gwen Stefani in her black studded bra? 

Where was Britney Spears wearing gym socks as gloves? 

  Where was the climactic moment? 

Where was the surprise guest???? 

At least he could have had the teams cheerleaders on the stage doing a routine... :( 

I was a little bummed.

AND WASSUP wit da commercials?

We need some new brainpower in advertising... 

I was a little bummed out. 

Burt Reynolds and a dancing bear? 

The same stupid convertible commercial 17,000 times? 

I was a little bummed.

Good news is The Patriots Won!  Luckily it was a good game, and it was close till the very end, so that added a bit of excitement to my night.

Damn you Janet Jackson. 

ARGH, Now I don't have any new dance moves to duplicate this weekend at the club! :)

After entertaining a house full of family and friends on Saturday night;

After staying up with friends until 2:00 am;

After Paul drinking beer from 3:00 pm till bedtime;

We went to sleep. 

I awoke Sunday morning at 9:00 am, unable to fall back asleep.  Needless to say Paul was filling the room with the scent of booze oozing out of every one of his pores as he rested. 

 I didn't even attempt to disturb his slumber, knowing full well that if I did, my handsome prince would turn into an evil dictator with a pretty bad hangover.

I walk out of the bedroom...UGH the place was a mess from the party.

Have you ever seen kilbasa when it cools down?  It was ALL FAT!  woa!

I picked up the beer bottles that were scattered throughout the house, in awe that someone could have to get up to get a new beer, but can't dispose of the old one in the process.

I swept and mopped the floors.

I did a pile of dishes with caked on shit from the day before... chili is very hard to clean once it dries.

I stacked up all the empties.

I vacuumed Brianna's room and the throw rug.

I busted my butt,

I was sweaty and exhausted by the time 11:30 am came around.

I hopped in the shower and started getting ready for Super Bowl Sunday. 

I knew that we had to get a move on, so I wake the sleeping prince, "Honey, you need to get up now..."

He wipes the sleep from his eyes and a cloud of stinky hangover odor followed him into the kitchen to get a morning drink.

"At least we don't have to clean up."  he says.

During conversation this weekend, I was involved in a conversation about knee surgery. (Paul may need knee surgery to repair his patella tendon)  The girl I was speaking with told me that her Dad just had knee surgery and they put a cadaver bone in his leg.  I didn't think much of it, and just went on with the conversation like it was nothing.

I woke up the next day, and I couldn't stop thinking about my brother.  Mind you, I always think about him in some way each day, but this was ridiculous, and not the type of thoughts I like to entertain.  My mind replayed the phone call  that told me he was gone, I kept thinking about everything that happened that morning, over and over again in my head.  I couldn't put my finger on what had stirred those memories up for me, until I was talking to Paul about it later that day.

----------------------

Besides the phone call that told me Greg was gone, I had the second worst phone call of my entire life that day.  The Organ Donor Association called the house a few hours after his death, I knew that my parents couldn't take the call, they were dying inside themselves, so I took it.  The voice on the other end of the phone was the voice of a sweet woman, who had to make these phone calls every day of her life, and knew the pain I was in.  She apologized to me for the loss, and for the phone call, but if Greg were to be a donor time was of the essence.  I asked for her phone number, and I told her that I would call her back.

When I ended that initial phone conversation I felt everything inside my soul collapsing to the ground.  I was viewing the world through an enormous corridor, and everyone's voices were echoes inside my head... this was real... Greg was dead.  I thought for sure that Greg would want to be an organ donor, but we had never talked about it, so I needed to make that decision.  I did take a moment to mention it to my parents, and to his fiancee, they all agreed that it should be done, maybe something good could come out of all of this.

I returned the phone call to the woman with the sweet sounding voice, and I told her that we would do it.  She explained to me that so much time had passed since his passing, that they wouldn't be able to safely use his major organs, but they were in need of bones, bone marrow, tissue, skin, eyes, and possibly more, but I can't remember exactly at the moment.  This statement really shook me up.  I never considered the possibility of them taking his bones away, or his skin for that matter... I needed a moment to process this.  She apologized to me, for she needed to ask me a number of questions about my brother, and his medical history... Luckily we were very close and I knew the answers.  Then she apologized again, "I am sorry, I know this is a very hard time for you, but I need to ask you what you are willing to donate, I will go down the list, and you can say yes or no, okay?"

I was shaking, and tears were streaming down my face, as I decided what they were going to take from my brother's body with my approval.  I can't even bring myself to write what I approved of... but I couldn't part with his eyes.

We had the same eyes, and everyone always said that.  I couldn't let them take his eyes, I couldn't handle that.  I needed to keep that in tact in my mind, I can't exactly explain it, but it was an impossible decision.

I remember hanging up the phone and wanting to run out into the living room where everyone was grieving and scream, "I need you, I need someone to hold me, I need someone to tell me this will be ok!  I just had to make the worst decisions of my life, and I need someone to comfort me!!!"

But instead, I hid in my bedroom, put my face in my pillow and screamed until I had no voice left.

---------------------------

These memories kept a cloud over my head this weekend, and I couldn't figure out why.  When I was talking with Paul I remembered the conversation I had with Yvonne about her father and the donor bone.  It didn't hit me then, but apparently got the ball rolling somewhere in my mind and came up later, and forced me to deal with those memories.

I have been thinking about all of that since, and I knew that it would be helpful to me if I got it out, and processed some of those feelings.  I want to keep my mind on his unique sense of humor, and all the happy memories I have.

*EDIT* I just realized that I never published yesterday's entry to the public... I thought I might have made everyone uncomfortable... but I was a boob, and only published it to myself... silly me....  :)

What will they think of next... oh my goodness!

http://www.thewhizzinator.com/index.html

I am so very very excited that today is Friday!!!!

This week really seemed to drag for some reason, I just hope the weekend drags too!  :)

At 5:00 tonight, I make my transition from

business suit to slutty clothes! 

LOL, :) well maybe not quite that drastic, but I love going out with my friends... and it doesn't hurt the ego when young guys hit on us.  :) 

Tomorrow night I have a gig locally, which I prefer in the winter, because going in and out of Boston in the winter isn't really fun.  It will take me all of 15 minutes to drive to Quincy, where the show is! :)  

Yes Lauren, I got the miracle bra and the boob shirt all ready!  :)

I am afraid that my brain has been completely fried due to a week of complete stress at work, therefore I don't have much worthwhile to contribute to our wonderful blog community today.   Except, did you see this thing? http://www.thewhizzinator.com/index.html

I had to post that link twice, it just floored me!  :)

I am the girlfriend that every guy fears on Valentine's Day.

I am a hopeless romantic. 

This is a problem for me, and has been my entire life, no matter how much I try to tell myself not to let my imagination run away with me, I still create unrealistic expectations in my head.

I think of all different scenarios of what I would LOVE to happen on Valentine's day... I think of all the different things I would like to get... I romanticize every friggin thing about the day.

Note:  Paul hates Valentine's Day.   grrrreat!

So I gave myself a pep talk last night:

"Sue... you KNOW that Paul doesn't like Valentine's Day, you KNOW that the two of you just bought a condo together and he doesn't have extra money just laying around or you would know about it, you KNOW that you will be lucky to just get a card, and you need to be happy with that."

Now, don't get me wrong, I am NOT materialistic in my expectations, I am ROMANTIC in my expectations... rose petals on the bed, homemade candlelight dinner, bubble bath, home made card, poem... sweet nothings... sweet nothings... blah, blah, bladdy blah blah blah...

I think I am a pretty fantastic girlfriend all 364 other days of the year... I just really need to work on my self talk for Valentine's Day.  It is pretty sad how no matter what I tell myself, the romantic that lives in my subconcious comes right out and takes over my being for the entire length of February 14th.

Poor Paul, well to tell you the truth even when I just wrote 'poor Paul'  I was still thinking, 'you never know... you never know'

Hopeless... :)

Happy Valentine's Day Everybody!  :)

I got this in an e-mail today....

Click on either #1 or #3 on the search engine... I think I pee'd my pants when I watched it!  :)

http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=fat+kid+rapping&fr=FP-tab-web-t&toggle=1&ei=UTF-8

I got home last night at 6:45 pm and all the candles in the condo were lit up... and these adorable little floating heart candles....  :)

We got a beautiful vase for our 'housewarming' party, and he had bought flowers and they were in that vase... and he gave me a very sweet card...my evening ended in a very romantic way.... mmmmmm hmmmmmm.... :)

I suppose me realizing my valentine related issues, and him realizing his own, helped the both of us enjoy a low key, very romantic evening.  :)

I must apologize for my lack of wit and charm on this lovely hump day...

Last night I rolled into bed with my handsome prince, and snuggled into his armpit... as my eyes finally began to close I heard a noise coming from the other room...

I sprang to my feet and went to check on Brianna... she was throwing up in the bathroom :(

I sat up with her while she calmed down and then I cleaned up the mess... (wicked fun stuff by the way!  ugh)

Then I asked my handsome prince to join me on the couch so that I might hear better in case Brianna woke up again, or god forbid began to vomit in her sleep and choke on it, because of course my brain just automatically shoots into the worst case scenario!  :)

He joins me on the couch, and my eyes begin to close...

Brianna again... this time all over the rug in her bedroom...  grrreaatt...  icky icky icky!!!  I don't know about you, but I have NO IDEA how my Mom cleaned up the puke of five children... I just don't get it, it isn't in me, it is disgusting and yucky and gross.... 

I proceeded to calm Brianna down, and get her back to bed so that I might clean up the big yucky icky gicky mess on her rug.   (Insert dry heaves and gags here... it was pretty painful)

I returned to the couch...  I close my eyes.... at this point it is somewhere around 3:00AM.... I fall asleep... ahhhhh....  3:45 AM I wake up to the sounds of vomiting... I spring to my feet and run to Brianna's bathroom... nope... I go into our bathroom... there is my handsome prince hugging the porcelain god.... Oh jeesh!

He takes his pillow and goes back into our bed.

4:00 AM  I finally close my eyes and get some sleep cuddled romantically with the cushions on the couch.

I am exhausted today.  I am also extremely aggitated.

Once again my handsome prince has been afflicted with a worse illness than anyone else, and he couldn't bring himself to actually get out of bed and onto the couch to watch Brianna.

I called my Mom to see if she could take her, and apparently she too had been up all night getting sick.  grreeeaaat.

Now this is when I start panicking, and I go into Paul and tell him that he NEEDS to get up and watch Brianna because we are going on vacation next week and I cannot afford to miss any work, there is too much to get done before I go.

The man 'cannot get out of bed'.

I tell him that if he is sleeping and Brianna is in the other room it is just like leaving her alone, and I am not comfortable with that...

He mumbles some jumble of incoherant words which in my opinion is his attempt to make me believe that this illness must be malaria and there is NO way this man can take care of my child today.

I said something about being pissed off and I closed, no slammed the bedroom door.

I was going to have to take Brianna to work with me... this wasn't going to be pretty.

I decided to call Mr. Quirky just to run it past him.

"Brianna is sick, and so is my mom, and I have no one to watch her, I was hoping it would be alright for me to take her to the office."

(mind you we have an extra office that is right beside me that doesn't get used and has a couch and a TV in it...)

"Uh... I can't afford to get sick, and neither can you... Sue, no, this can't happen... you can't afford to get sick."

"Yea, no kidding Mr. Quirky, but I have no choice in the matter, my daughter is sick, and I have no one to watch her, either I take her with me or I can't come in"

{insert enormously awful screams and grunting noises here}

Yes, Mr. Quirky does make grunting noises when he is pissed off.

So here I am, happy as a pig in mud sitting at my desk, with my little sick girl in the next room playing pac man (plug n' play is a great thing).. pissed off at my prince charming.. pissed off at Mr. Quirky... and praying to God that I don't start throwing up!

Lysol is my only friend today...

I was looking through old pictures yesterday, and saw a picture of myself that made me think about my brother... and this story...

It was the springtime and my parents were on vacation.  At the time both my brother and myself lived at home with them.  The grass was getting pretty high on the lawn, and my parents would be coming home soon, so I figured I would surprise them by mowing the lawn for them like any good freeloading teenager would do.  :)

I go out into the back yard into the shed and take out the lawn mower.  I tried and tried to start it, but to no avail... I tried and tried... finally I decided to go inside and ask Greg how to start the stinking thing.

I went downstairs to his bedroom where he was sleeping, (he worked late hours, so he was sleeping at noon)  and asked him how to start the lawn mower.  He instructed me that you push in the little button thingy and then pull the string while you squeeze the lever on the handle... OK... I think I can do this....

I go back outside to the lawn mower, and proceed to pump, pull, and squeeze...pump, pull, and squeeze.... argh!  pump...pull....squuueeeeeze!!!! It starts!!! :)

This is the loudest god damn lawn mower I have ever heard!  It was sooooo LOUD!!!

I began to push it, and it didn't budge, I push a little harder and it starts to move... an enormous cloud of black smoke begins to surround me, (I think... jeesh, lawn mowers are pretty bad for the environment)  I continue to push with all of my might, thinking how proud my parents were going to be when they saw the freshly mowed lawn.  :)

As I push, HUGE chunks of dirt and grass start flying every which way... Chunk... Grass... Rock... wow, this thing is strong!!!   I see my brother standing on the porch in his boxer shorts yelling something at me, but I can't hear him over this extremely loud lawn mower... I make a gesture like I can't hear him...

He comes running across the lawn at me screaming... I turn off the lawn mower to hear what the heck he is saying....

"SUE!!!! THAT'S THE F**CKING SNOW BLOWER YOU IDIOT!!!!!"

so maybe sometimes he is as sick as he thinks he is.... :(

Not only does my handsome prince have the stomach flu, he also has strep throat, and an upper respiratory infection...

awww shoot I am an assholio!  :(

So my friends, it is with half-hearted sadness that I tell you I shall not return to Mindsay officially until Monday , February 28th... 

I am taking the week off of work, and since I am a lazy girl I don't have internet set up at the condo yet... little by little... :)

We are going to spend a few days in Cape Cod, but mainly just laying low and enjoying each other's company,

and peace away from Mr. Quirky!  :)

Please feel free to drop in every couple of days and leave a reply telling me how much you miss me! :) 

If anyone wants to take the liberty of keeping track of the best blogs that I miss, I wouldn't hate you!!  :)

Peace, Love, and Monkey's in Pink Leather!! :)

Oh how I missed Mindsay... I could shoot myself in the foot for not bringing a notebook with me on vacation, there was so much I thought to blog about... and now I am not quite sure what they were, or if they were even very interesting in the first place!  :)

Quick little update... 'Mr. Quirky' left a message on my machine almost every day last week... what part of vacation does he not understand????  Sample message, "I need new figures on this settlement statement, you need to come in"

Um... yea... I wasn't in town... on VACATION... jeeeesh!

So, today I am here with a HUGE pile on my desk, don't have much time to blog, but I will try to catch up with everyone else's blogness!  :)

(I want to be a professional vacation taker, who gets paid upwards of 100K yearly to be on vacation... think that could happen???  )

GLAD TO BE BACK WITH Y'ALL!!! :)

December 1rst

That is when I want to see the snow... I want to see the tree tops glistening with the freshly fallen snow... I want to smell the crisp, cold, winter air and know that Christmas is coming. 

December is the month when I want to take Brianna outside to make a snowman,

 and snow angels,

 and go sledding.

January... I still think the snow is pretty... but I hate being cold

February... alright this is getting old... I want to see a robin... where the f$%k is the robin???

March 1rst????  SNOW????

Uh uh... not what I want, not pretty, not enjoyable, not fun, no no no NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 I cant wait for Spring...  

It took me a long time to get here, and sometimes I need to remind myself, but I love life.  I understand that there is a reason for me here, and a purpose for my soul, and the imprints left on my soul from my life experiences thus far have had a greater meaning that I just can't see right now.

For so many years I was suicidal, and seriously battling depression.  I honestly believed that my life sucked, would always suck, and no one would ever care about me.  I alienated all my friends, because 'they couldn't understand', and I made myself alone.  I hated being alone, and I created that situation myself.  I told myself that I was a loser, and worthless, and I felt like a loser, and worthless.

So many things in my life have changed since then, and each day in the past two years has included something that has brought me back to this plateau of comfort. 

I won't say that I didn't commit suicide because I thought that my brother was selfish.  I don't believe that to be true.  I knew what was going on inside my head, I knew that I suffered from depression, I knew that it was a dangerous game to not get help.  My brother didn't understand the illness, and he became lost in it.  I can't blame him for that.

I did see first hand what it is like after someone dies by suicide.  I did see everyone second guessing the last conversations that they had with him.  I felt abandoned and alone.  I saw his fiancee crumbling in front of me... his one year old daughter... my parents...

There is no way that Greg calculated everyone else's emotions the night he died.  It was an intense moment of blackness, and he couldn't see his way out of the pain. 

I was there the next day, I saw the sunrise, I saw the other side of his pain. 

I was so engulfed in my pain that I didn't know what to do, I was so conflicted. I wanted to die so bad, I hated my life, I had that blackness with me every single day... but I knew deep inside that I could get through it with help.  I needed to get help.

Obviously I did get help, and I know that it isn't as scary to ask for help as I had thought.  I know that I can always ask for help if I need to again. 

I don't look down on anyone else who is in the place where I once was.  Here on mindsay I have come across so many blogs where I see myself two years ago... I find myself compelled to comment, but most times I hold back.  I don't want to seem 'holier than thou'  I just wish I could reach through the computer and hug them, and say that they don't even know me, and I care... life will get better... there is a tomorrow... there is another side to the pain... don't be afraid...

My life isn't perfect.  Every once in a while I will get really sad, or disappointed, or upset in some way, and because I programmed myself this way, I will think to myself, "I want to die", but I don't really want to die, it is just the way I messed up my own coping mechanisms, and I am still a work in progress.

I will not kill myself, I myself. 

I am proud of my beautiful daughter,

and blessed with a wonderful boyfriend.

 My body, though not perfect at the moment, has been very good to me.  I do not have any chronic pain, I do not have any diseases, I am blessed with my physical health.  My soul, though scarred from past pain, and still wounded from the loss of my brother, is shining brighter than it ever has before... My soul feels content, I am happy with myself.

I love the morning, when Brianna comes into our bed to wake us up. 

I love going to the gym with my sister after work. 

I love time with my girlfriends talking about happy memories. 

 I love my family.  I love thinking about my future with Paul.  I love so many things about my life that I can't even think about the things I don't like, they don't matter. 

I have the power to live my life the way I want.  I am choosing this path, I am choosing to be happy, to process my pain and sadness, and let it go.

I Love life.

I Love myself.

A rose grows from a bed of thorns...

Last month I read a blog by askjesse where he listed some quotes he took off of his blogs of the past… and then yesterday Tess listed a couple quotes from women… This inspired todays post.

So yesterday, I visited a few fellow Mindsayers and randomly clicked on a date on their calendar, and made a list of random quotes… I kinda like it! 

If I have quoted you here, and you wish me to remove it, please let me know and I will do so asap.

“Don’t settle for life as it is. Then nothing will change. Ever.”

Champy

“2005 is going to be a year of change... it's going to be hard, but the end justifies the means.  I'm positive about that.”

Loveshoe

“Here I am -- self-conscious, and yet self-righteous because I'm just like a balance right now, and not quite evened out.”

Cas

“Love should be celebrated EVERY day, not just one day out of the year.”

Mikey

“The best relationships and the most fulfilling romance, comes when we are able to be vulnerable, to be ourselves, and to not always be worrying about being perfect -- simply, to be really, really real.”

Foreverknight

“I HATE PMS   that is all.”

Lasirena

“The one thing I realized is if you are having an off day... kids can always make you smile. If its my son, or Sams son...or a complete strangers child... kids just have that magic.”

Shasta

“I learned that not only that does my vote not count but since the beginning of time elections have always been between a giant douche a turd sandwich.”

Butterfly81

“I was sitting in Physics today... thinking. Not of Physics. But of everything and anything else.”

xxmisterhavokxx

“JIM BELUSHI HAS A HUGE PACKAGE!”

tattooedjen

“Off to the woods I go with my hippy ass, and a respect for nature.”

scderek

“Monday also spells damn, yo”

six24

“nothin’ like a close up shot of a horses ass early in the morning”

ketchupownz

“The thing about talking to yourself is you always know when you are lying”

sawbones

“I just want to be wanted. and loved. thats all. is that too much to ask for?”

xwakeupcryingx

“Whip out everything you got and do it in the butt.”

colmustard

“Give a smile to those you see, it brighten their day and actually yours too.”

wendyinchicago

“Chatspeak is not a language, it is the butchering of one.”

suicideparty

“If you say you're going to be somewhere, show up. If you don't, it's not my fault I hit you in the head with a stick.”

bluestudent

“A good idea to stay awake while reading in the tub.”

tess

“As I wander this blogging universe from one painted screen to another, I hear voices in pain, bundled in neat type - words reaching out to someone who will listen.  I want to say: I hear you and hope that my words reach yours.”

jestar  

“Nobody else can make you happy. YOU are the only one with that power.”

sayhedgehog

“Showing your faith is all about demonstrating love to others.”

redhat

“Have patience. Be kind. Blame less. Trust more.”

tragickingdom

“Ultimately it’s not the attributes that melt hearts, it’s the attitudes.”

justbrowsing

“It's about taking chances.  It's about believing.  It's about having faith.  It's about being real.”

clayvessel

“Lima beans suck.”

nomad

“Parades are stupid.”

askjesse

These are just a few, and trust me they are random, who knew we were all so introspective?

Feel free to try this on your blog, I would be interested in what you find. 

Two years ago today it was just over 2 months since I lost my brother.

Two years ago this morning, I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed to get to work.

"I should be at work right now, but I couldn't go... I am so fake, I am dead already, how do I continue from here?"

Two years ago today, I was living in fear of an ex-boyfriend and I took out a restraining order to protect myself.

Two years ago today, I was struggling to find the meaning and the purpose in life, and I was losing the battle to hold on to my sanity.

Two years ago today, I vowed to myself that I was only living for my daughter, and that my happiness really didn't matter.  I was going to live my life as a zombie... I was never going to think about being in another relationship...

Two years ago today there was a blackness that engulfed my soul, a sadness that peered out of my eyes, and I was trying to hide behind an emotionless shell.

Two years ago this afternoon, a friend asked me to get out with him, in the attempts to shake me out of my stupor.

Two years ago tonight I was convinced to go with him to meet up with some old friends and go to a Celtic's game.

Two years ago tonight, I hesitantly agreed to meet up with him at a Boston bar, and go to the game.

Two years ago tonight, I walked into the bar with Ed, and met up with some old friends that I hadn't seen in quite some time; but there was this one guy I didn't know, but yet I felt like I knew him....

Two years ago tonight, something inside me changed, and I broke all of my own rules.

Two years ago tonight, I forgot that anyone else existed, this man became a magnet, and we couldn't keep our eyes off of each other.

Two years ago tonight, I can't tell you what happened during the game, because I was so focused on this man.

Two years ago tonight, I lost a good friend in Ed, when I found out that he was interested in being more than a friend, and was jealous of my new found attraction.

Two years ago tonight, I truly believe that my brother took a little control over my life, and pushed me in the right direction.

Two years ago tonight, I met my soulmate.

Two years ago tonight, Paul and I fell in love at first glance.

Saturday a close family friend passed away.  She lived a long life, and was sharp as a tack to the end, and got to be home with her family when she took her last breath peacefully in her sleep.

She was like a grandmother to me, and I have known her my entire life.  She lived next door to my parents, and was a part of my every day when I lived with them. 

She was my mother's best friend.

Last night I went to the wake, and I saw all of her family that I remember from my childhood.  I hadn't seem them quite as frequently as we grew older and people started having families of their own.  My sister and I thought that in some way we felt closer to her than her own grandchildren did.

I loved this woman.

Yesterday I was afraid to ask 'Mr Quirky' for the morning off so that I could attend the funeral today.  He has been especially unstable as of late, and has made me a bit nervous.

At the wake last night one of her daughters asked me if I would sing at the funeral.  She went on to say how her mother had always talked about my beautiful voice, and how she would have wanted me to do that.  I felt a bit flustered, but I said that I could probably do that.

When I got home I called 'Mr. Quirky' at his home and left him a message explaining the situation, asking that I be able to come in at 10:30AM instead of 9AM...

He returned my phone call and said, "I can't let you do that."

End of conversation.

I am so disgusted with myself that I am here right now.  I have made such progress in my life, I am with an amazing man, and have gotten rid of all the unhealthy relationships in my life, yet I let 'Mr. Quirky' determine whether or not I can attend a funeral for someone I love?

I am mad at myself, and I am mad at 'Mr. Quirky'.

I have to start believing in myself as a professional, and get a better paying job where I am more respected.  This is ridiculous.

:(

Yesterday I attended a seminar in Boston that was held by the Title Insurance Company that this firm uses.  I live a few miles outside of Boston, and it is out of question for me to drive into the city, or in the city itself for that matter.  It is a public safety issue.  :)

The seminar was held at the Prudential Building.  I went online like a good doobie, and figured out what train I needed to take to get there and I figured out the T route that I would need to follow.

I had to get on the Red Line and take that to the Green Line and take the Green Line to the Prudential stop.  Conveniently the Prudential has their own T-stop, so I didn't have to get lost on foot!  :)

After studying the T maps I figured out that it wasn't as difficult as I had originally thought, and I decided I would be leaving at about 7AM to get to the Pru by 8:30AM.

Lesson #1:  Never take for granted that people know how to drive when there is a half an inch of snow on the ground.

The traffic on my way to the T station was INSANE!

Lesson #2:  Never TOUCH anything when you are on the T... it just might move, or stick to you...  :(  icky!!!

Lesson #3:  Don't make eye contact with suspicious looking people, it is an invitation for them to come over to you and discuss Russian politics.

Lesson #4:  People are rude.

The T was CROWDED beyone belief!  Who knew so many people took public transportation?   It was a melting pot of people, and very interesting to people watch.  I soon learned the lesson not to people watch, and had some weird Albert Einstein looking guy spewing a whole bunch of unintelligable information about Russian dictatorship...  as soon as he found his stop I took out my book and buried my face in it.

When it was time to switch from the Red line to the Green line, I realized that the Green Line wasn't JUST 'The Green Line'  It was the Green Line A, Green Line B, Green Line C... etc.  I didn't plan on this, and I was a bit frazzled.  Of course, NO one is capable or willing to help me find where I am supposed to be, and it took me 15 minutes to find a T employee who could lead me in the right direction.  I belonged on Green Line E, which was way down the other end of the platform.

I finally get down the other end of the platform as the train I wanted pulled away jam packed with people.  Wow, this should be fun!  :)

After waiting for about 5 minutes that seemed like 45  , another train came. 

I waited patiently for it to come to a stop and starting moving forward to board, when all of a sudden I was rushed from behind by a crowd of soon-to-be passengers.  I don't know what happened, or how it happened, as it happened so fast, but before I knew it I found myself standing alone on the platform as another jampacked train left the station.

OK, I get it... if I want to get on the next train, I need to be a flaming inconsiderate bitch bag.  Got it.

Next train comes, I threw five old women off the platform and kicked a little boy... but I got on the train.  :)

Now, this particular train is so packed that I am a human sardine.  I now know all the people who surrounded me on a very intimate basis.  People squished together + frequent starts and stops= lots of bumping into each other.

There was a little old man behind me with an umbrella... the umbrella and my behind became very good friends.  :(  Jeesh! 

FINALLY I came to the Prudential Center, and it was 9:30.   OK, I am a loser, and I am totally late.  I really thought that I had timed everything perfectly.

Lesson #5:  Don't wear open-backed spiked heels when you are taking public transportation in the slushy gross weather.

Don't ask me what the hell I was thinking, they were cute.  :)

So I enter the Prudential Center, and I realize that this is it's own seperate community.  The building has different sections of offices and the lower level is all shops, kiosks, and restaurants.

I find the part of the building that I need to get to, and I walk right over to the elevator and press floor 13.   la..la.. la...  wow, this is taking a while... la.. la.. la...

Lesson #6:  If you are in an elevator for 5-10 minutes, it probably isn't moving.

A woman comes into the elevator and presses level 11, and we start moving.  I try again to press 13 and it doesn't work.  She says to me, do you have a badge? 

um.. no.

Well, you need security clearance to get to that floor, you have to go back down to the security desk.

Lesson #7:  If you walk into a building that says 'Guests please see security'  you should probably see security.  silly me.  :)

I gave him my name and I got my badge.  The security officer says to me, "running a little late for the seminar eh?"

Yea, wicked funny...  :(

I get in the elevator and finally it moves.  I get off the elevator and the Title Insurance Company has two ladies waiting to greet me at the elevator.

I put on my cutest 'I didn't mean it' face.

Lesson #8:  Cute faces don't work as well on women.

So I got all my literature and made my way into the seminar.  The seminar was being held by an attorney for the company, and it revolved around Real Estate Law.

Lesson #9:  I don't get paid enough money for my job.

Yea, I was the tacky chic who asked the woman beside me that question.  :)

Lesson #10:  I am pretty smart.

I knew everything in that seminar, I could have given that seminar... it was frustrating.. I really wanted to learn something new.  :(

Lesson #11:  I want to go back to college.

I have always thought that I wanted to go back to school, but this verified it for me.  I really want to learn more. I figure there has to be some sort of accelerated degree program that I can take while I work.  When Paul finishes his Master's Degree program I am going to seriously look into local college programs. 

When the seminar was over I took the liberty of strolling around the Prudential shops...

Lesson #12:  Don't walk around in nice stores when you have NO MONEY... it is torturous. 

I wanted sooo much stuff... argh.

*Pause* 

I wanted to let you know, so that you could all be so impressed and proud of me... there was a Krispy Kreme at the opening of the food court,  and the freshly baked donut smell filled my nostrils...  and I walked on by!  I DIDN'T GO IN!!!! :)

(and it had nothing to do with the fact that there was a group of handsome business men sitting at a table right outside of it)

*end pause*

So I returned to the T station to make my trip home.  I knew what I was doing this time, I was an old pro.  No Problemo!  :)

I get on the green line, and switch to the red line, and take out my book and relax... the stop I needed to get off at was the last stop of the red line, so I relaxed and buried myself in quantum physics.  (I am not lying about that either... I am curious about what science has to say about our existence)

Before I knew it the operator says, "Last stop, everyone off"

I get off, and I look around a bit confused... This didn't look like my stop...

Lesson #13:  Pay attention when you get on the T and make sure you are getting on the right train.   Pay attention to the stops that you go by on the T so that you can figure out that you are on the wrong train before you get wicked far away.

Yes, I did take the wrong train... it was the redline, but it was going to a different place. 

So I had to get another token, and wait in the cold, (this station was outside... ugh!)  and reboard the redline to take it 4 stops to where I could get on the right train...

I am back at work today, and I am in one peice. 

Lesson #14:  I wasn't meant to commute into Boston on a daily basis.

Yesterday all day I felt a strange tingling on the side of my nose...  a strange tingle that was vaguely familiar, but one that I had not experienced in a long time.

Towards the afternoon, the side of my nose became a little itchy, and I found myself absent mindedly scratching it.

While I was at the gym, I moved my hand across my face to wipe off some sweat, and OWWWCH... my nose hurt! 

When I returned home, I looked in the mirror and I couldn't see anything on the side of my nose... but it hurt. (Damnit)

I got in the shower and exfoliated my face until it should have fallen off completely.

Look in the mirror.... still nothing.  :(

Now, history should tell me at this point to leave it alone, because if you have a blind zit, and you start playing with it, it only gets worse.  But I was starting to obsess over it, and I just wanted it to go away...

So I poked, prodded, squeezed... used every facial cleanser I owned... put a hot cloth on it... squeezed.... started losing the upper layers of my skin because of my fingernails... OK... I should probably leave it alone.

I remembered when I was a teenager if I put toothpaste on my zits before bedtime it would dry them up... so before I went to bed I put toothpaste on the side of my nose... (yes, it hurt... but I saw it as pain with a purpose)

This morning I awoke feeling refreshed and ready to face the day.  I rolled over, turned off the alarm, and picked up a tissue so that I could blow my nose.

HOLY $H!T!  OUCH!  I totally forgot about this nose issue.

I went over to the vanity and washed off my face... I move over to my special magnifying mirror, and taaadaaaa!!!  I am now the proud owner of a small mountain!  yay me.

My nose looks strangely disproportionate, and is a funny shade of purple.  Great, just great.

Now I bust out the cold face cloth, and I lay down in bed freezing my nose off my face for a good hour.  This helped a bit with the swelling, but man... it was ugly.

Of course, all the attention that I have given my little mount everest has neglected to bring it to a head... there is no getting rid of the disgusting infection that is hanging out underneath my skin inside my pore.  Please go away... please leave my face...please!

Now it is time to get my butt in gear.  I must accept the reality that I helped create the eighth world wonder right on the side of my nose.  This is when the heavy duty stage makeup comes out from under the cabinet.  Forget my cover girl tinted moisturizer... out comes my Estee Lauder FOUNDATION.... my small little blemish stick.... my setting powder... and my tiny little makeup paintbrushes...

This was going to take some skill.

My biggest problem to deal with when it comes to concealing the purple people eater on the side of my nose was that with all the skin treatments that I put on it last night, I had dried up all the healthy skin around it... foundation + peeling skin = pretty freaky looking skin.

So I pulled out my tweezers and started microscopically removing the little flakes of skin that surrounded mount everest... I then apply light skin moisturizer around the affected area, trying to avoid actually applying it onto the suspect area.  Little paintbrushes... light dabs of foundation... painting over mount everest... powder to set....

Now I am all set.  At least until 1:00 this afternoon,  if I start getting tour guides moving through the office showing off the spectacle that is my special mountain, I will know that I have not fooled anyone.

Man...  I should really learn from my mistakes.

Kids, don't try this at home, just deal with the annoying blind zit.  This is my public safety announcement.

I thought today was going to be an easy day here at work.

I was sadly mistaken... I can barely type these words...

Oh my goodness... Someone get the Grey Goose Chillin' and meet me at 5PM! 

Paul and I have been together for 2 years.

Paul and I just bought a condo together and we are living with each other.

Paul and I are totally in love.

My mother is determined to SQUASH any romantic ideals of a proposal.

My mother cannot believe that Paul hasn't asked me to marry him yet.  My mother can't believe that I am 28 and unmarried.  My mother can't believe that Brianna will be over 10 years old by the time I have another child.

I love my mother.  I just can't stand her right now.

Every single conversation I have with the woman morphs into a conversation about how Paul is never going to marry me, because he already got, "the milk for free"

('Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?')

Now, don't get me wrong, I most definitely want to be engaged right now.  I really want to be married before I am 30. BUT I definitely don't want to be THAT girl... I want to be surprised with a sweet heartfelt proposal.

I don't want Paul to propose to me because he has been bullied into it.

Now my mother has started saying things in front of Paul.  The poor guy went to pick up Brianna at her house yesterday after my mom just finished watching Dr. Phil.  Turns out the show was about guys that didn't want to commit to marriage... she was all over poor Paul about it.  (ummm...mom, that was a talk show... not my life!)

I know that Paul wants to marry me.  Paul knows that I want to marry him.

Paul also knows the way I feel about wanting at least another child, and I have no doubts that things are all going to fall into place.

In the meantime, I am going to block all talk shows and the Lifetime Original Movie channel from my mother's television.

I graduated high school a virgin.  I started all my dates wicked smooth by saying to the guy, "I am not going to sleep with you."  

Suprisingly enough, I still got plenty of dates.  :)

Just as I was graduating high school, at 17 years old, I met Bob.

My friends and I used to spend our nights hanging out at the beach, sitting on the wall, listening to music.  One night while we were at the beach this gorgeous speciman of a man pulls up in his 442.

I turn to my friends and say, "Who is that?" 

My friend Mike replies, "That's Bobby"

This was a man I needed to meet.

I walked over to the car with a couple of friends and said, "You have a really nice car"

He was sitting on the top of the drivers seat, with the T-tops off of the car, bass system booming.

I was a crazy giggling fool.

Everyone was fighting for his attention... I was totally amazed with him... I looked in his car and I saw that he was drinking Arizona Iced Tea, "You drink Arizona Iced Tea?" I flustered, giggling like a school girl, "I LOVE Arizona Iced Tea!"

He looked at me with his perfectly chiseled face that resembled Tom Cruise, Johnny Depp, Luke Perry, and every hot star that I could think of at the moment and said, "You like Arizona Iced Tea?  You want one?"

Woa... "Yea, sure" I replied my face getting flush, and still giggling like a fool.

"Get in" he said.

"Get in?" I giggled.

"Yea, get in, I will take you to the store and get one."

Holy shit!  I look at my girlfriends and they are all flipping out for me... get in get in!!!

So I hop in Bob's 442 and we are off to the corner store.

As we are driving, I remember that I am wearing REALLY short shorts, so I point my toes and make sure that I am holding my thighs above the seat, so they don't squish out and look fat.  (Yes, I really was doing this... my thighs were totally shaking by the time we got back)  I remember staring at him in the car... I must have told him a hundred times that he looked like a model.  He really did look like a model, he was gorgeous.

When I got back to the beach I was swarmed by all my girlfriends, and we giggled together for a good 15-20 minutes.  I needed to see this guy again.

My friend Danny was having a party that weekend.  I made sure that Bob was invited.  I hoped that I would see him again.

*Double post today due to popular demand* 

See also:  Part 1

**********

Danny always threw the best parties… everyone would go… just thinking about all the memories makes me smile.

The party started in the day-time, and I was working (at Boston Market… hee hee!!!) until 4PM, so I was anxious to get out of work.  I had instructed my friends to let me know if Bob showed up at the party… I needed to know.

At 3:00PM my best friend, Heather, called me at work and said that Bob was there.   AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!  I was such a ball of nerves and I couldn’t wait to get out of work.  I needed to get out of work right then… I needed to take a shower and get over there… I just had to!   (I can remember this feeling so vividly, it seemed like getting to this party was the most important thing in the world at that point in time… I was in full-out panic mode)  Luckily my shift supervisor was a pretty cool guy, and he let me go early.

In the couple of days preceding this get-together I did as much research as I could on my new gorgeous male model obsession.  He was 23 years old, he was single, he used to work in the same place as my friend Mike, and he had a great sense of humor.   The fact that he was 6 years older than me would be an issue, I knew, but I didn’t care.. he was so hot!

I showed up at the party at 4:15pm, and I made my way through the crowd.  I found my brother and I asked him if he had seen Bob.  Greg said, “Sue, he is too old for you, and I don’t want you getting into that.” 

I really didn’t care, I told him not to worry. 

Next thing I know someone picks me up from behind and tosses me over their shoulder.  I realize that this is Bob, and he is running around the yard with me on his shoulder.  I am totally excited, totally scared to fall, and totally horrified that I am wearing short shorts again, and everyone can see my ass. :) 

That entire party was a blur of me flirting with Bob, Bob flirting with me, my friends giggling, and the guys that I used to make out with giving Bob attitude. 

When it was time to go home Bob was so kind to offer me a ride.  OF COURSE I took it! :)

I remember driving home with him, and there is a bank down the street from my house that has a digital clock with a thermometer on it.  I was a bit drunk and ditzy, and I remember saying, “Oh look, it’s (some temperature) Celcius, I wonder how many degrees that is Fahrenheit.”  

Yes, I really did say that, don’t ask me why, but it seemed like intelligent conversation.

Bob suddenly pulls over the car and says, “I can figure that out for you, hold on”

He reaches into his back seat and pulls out a calculator and starts trying to compute it, or something, after a little bit he gives up and says, “Oh Well”

So we sat in his car on the side of the road for a few minutes talking about the temperature, but knowing that we really weren’t talking about the temperature… I was just sitting there thinking , “kiss me, kiss me, kiss me…”

He leaned over and kissed me, and I was freaking out inside! 

I couldn’t wait to call Heather!  I was so excited.  God knows how long we were in that car kissing, but I got home late, and my mother was pretty upset, but I didn’t care. 

Bob kissed me.  

See also:

Part 1

Part 2

It had been a couple of weeks since I met Bob, and at this point I was head over heels, like any naïve little girl would be with an older handsome smooth talking man.  We spoke on the phone every day; he would always show up whenever my friends would get together.  Every weeknight that we were at the beach, he was there.  All the girls wanted him, and he was giving ME the attention, I felt like the Queen of the Universe. 

Two weeks after the first kiss, we found ourselves at Danny’s house again.  I have no idea how much I drank, all I know is that I was really REALLY drunk… my memories of that night are very spotty… a lot of the same giggling and flirting…mixed with some kissing… ending up in a bedroom… not really sure what I want to do… he leans into me with his gorgeous face and says, “I know what you are trying to do…  you are trying to make me fall in love with you…” kisses me and says, “well, it is working.”

Let’s pause the story for one moment and remember this… I am 17, totally infatuated with this specimen of complete perfection, filled to the brim with vodka and (ready for this 90’s flashback?)  Zima (hee hee)…  I knew that I didn’t want to have sex yet… I was a virgin, and I had told him that.  I figured it was ok to just fool around, but I didn’t want to have sex.

*unpause

He says to me, “Don’t worry, it will be OK”

I nervously reply, “No, not here…”

He leans in and says, “Trust me”

I say, “I am not a slut… if I sleep with you, you will be gone in the morning, and I really like you.”

He kisses me softly and whispers in my ear, “Sweetie, I am not going anywhere… you have got me hooked.” 

And with that sentence, I lost my virginity.

So writing the last 3 blogs felt really good.  I haven't written about that stuff since my old diary entries.  I was thinking I might write that all the way through, but I am not sure if I should make those entries public.  I could write them for only myself and just continue to blog about whatever, or I could make them public and finish out the series with all of you.

What do you think?

See Also: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

"Letters written to myself"

I know he doesn't care about me at all, but I let myself become too comfortable with this situation and I don't believe I am mature enough to handle it.  I feel so weak and unprotected and I hate that.  He can just leave me at any time and I'll be totally screwed.

If he gets jealous then what does that mean?

If he doesn't want a relationship then what are we in?

There have been so many guys that I have been meeting lately and I don't know what to do about them.  I don't know what to say.  I don't know what I am doing!  I feel so lost in my life right now, I think I will explode!

I just hate feeling this insecure.  I like him alot, I don't want to start to care about him too much because I know that I can't expect anything.  I am just a trick.  I just suck.  I hate myself. 

The summer after my senior year of high school revolved around Bob for me.  I was completely dedicated to this wondrous specimen of a man.

My best friend Heather and I were leaving for 2 week's vacation to Canada, and saying goodbye to him was so hard for me.  He hinted that he didn't want me to hook up with anyone while I was gone, but he said we had no commitment also.  I was so confused.

Bob,

I quite miss you right now.  It is only the second day that I haven't seen you and I really miss you.  I am so scared of what I am coming home to in 2 weeks.  It seems like we are just starting to get close and now I am gone and I have absolutely no clue what you are doing right now.  I have to wonder where we are going... are we going anywhere or do I just have to learn to shut off all my emotions?  It seems like I feel more and more every day and I know I sound corny but I can't help it.

I am trying to tell myself that everything's gonna be fine and I know that you told me everythings gonna be the same when I come home but I am so afraid and confused.  First you act like you don't even care that I am leaving and you want me to have sex with every guy in town, and then at the last minute you say that you are going to miss me so much and you make me promise not to do anything with anyone.  I wish I had made you promise the same because I am killing myself thinking about you and what you are doing.  This sucks so bad.  I didn't want to like you and now I am stuck in the biggest rut in the world. 

I tried so hard to avoid this because I know how much it sucks to like someone and be jealous and eventually get hurt.  That's inevitable now.  I have to get hurt because I like you so much and I am so afraid of losing you, but I don't even know what I would lose because I don't even know what I have!

It may be totally pointless for me to worry about this anyways because I will probably come home and you and Jen will be going back out and I will feel like a fucking shithead and I won't have the faintest idea what to do!  Oh boy, what am I gonna do with myself???

I miss you.  I hope you miss me.  I hope you think about me, do you?  I wonder. :(

When we came home I found out that the whole time we were gone he had HUGE house parties...

Bob, 

I don't know how to say this cause I don't want to never see you or talk to you anymore but I really don't know how I am going to do this. 

I like you more than I should, and I know that I feel like I like you more than anyone I ever have before, and I know that sex can confuse you and make you believe that feelings exist that really don't.  I really don't know how to feel, but whatever it is, I know you don't feel the same way.  I really don't know what I am saying but I really don't know if I can handle this much longer. 

You don't know how jealous I am when people just walk right up and hit on you.  And what right do I have?  Honestly I don't, I have no right.  And I thought I would be able to handle the thought of you being with someone else - but when I talked with Annmarie and she said that you scooped with Sharon and Alexa I cried.  Why the fuck would I cry?  I am not a baby, but I am acting like one.  It really hurt me but it shouldn't.

The whole time I was in Canada I missed you so much and I guess I talked about you alot.  My friend Robby said that I must really like you alot and I guess I do but I suppose I am not being fair to you.  You don't need me clinging to you all the time and crying like a baby because I am so jealous. 

I don't know if I should just say that you can forget about me if you want or if I can just stay like this for as long as whatever this is lasts.  I just don't know how I can do it.  I do have a helluva lot to learn.  I have no idea what I am doing.  I can pretend that I do, but I am really so lost and confused that it is crazy.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I am so stupid and immature.

When I came clean about being sad about him hooking up he told me, "Don't worry Sue, you don't have to worry about that anymore.  The whole time you were gone I was afraid you were with someone else, and I don't want that.  I want to be your boyfriend, will you be my girlfriend?"

I couldn't believe it!  This was so awesome!  We were in love!

*see also Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

I was such a jealous girl and I couldn’t get over the fact that he was so good looking, and girls were always hitting on him.  I always felt like when I wasn’t around he was screwing every girl he met, just because he could.  He always assured me that it was just my insecurity, and he told me that he loved me.

He LOVED me! 

When I found pictures of his ex-girlfriend, she was so beautiful, I was so jealous.  He told me that they had been apart for a while, and she called him sometimes just to catch up.  I believed him, but I was still so jealous, it was a haunting uncomfortable feeling.

All the while I am wrapped up in a complete high, in love with Bob, my mother is completely freaking out.  “He is too old for you!”  “He is a 23 year old MAN!  You are a 17 year old GIRL!”

I thought she was completely ridiculous, and I was horribly rude and disrespectful to her because she couldn’t understand that we were in love.

I knew nothing about sex, really, nothing at all… I was stupid and naïve, and I had no business being in a sexual relationship with someone 6 years older than me.  I was trying to play grown-up; I was trying to fit into this world that was foreign to me.  I couldn’t go to bars with him and his friends, his family didn’t like me because I was so young, there were so many places that my age came into play, but I didn’t care.  Bob was my boyfriend, and he loved me and I loved him and we were going to be together forever and always be in love.

He had a strange schedule for a while because he was working as a bodyguard for some wealthy people in town.  He had a friend who owned a security company and he got extra money that way.  There were many weekend nights that we had planned to be together, and then he got called into work at the last minute to both of our dismay.

This was the case on New Years Eve. (End of ‘94, beginning of ‘95)

All my friends, who had also grown to become Bob’s friends by now, were having a HUGE New Years Eve Party, and we were so excited to go.  The night before New Years Eve Bob got a call from work.  Someone called in sick, and they needed him to be an armed guard at a Boston Club.  I cried to him, “Make someone else go!  We have plans!  Please Bob, I don’t ask a whole lot, just this one night, please!”

He told me he tried as hard as he could but it was impossible to get the night off.

The New Years Eve party turned out to be a crazy night; it was packed with all my friends, but no Bob.  He gave me a beeper, (yea… 90’s remember?)  and he told me he would beep me if he got the chance.  I was totally bummed out that he wasn’t there, and I acted like any mature sophisticated newly 18 year old would, and I drank enough vodka to float the Mayflower on!

At around 12:30 AM, on the morning of January 1, 1995 I got a beep from Bob.  *143  808* (the 808 was BOB) I was so excited that he took the time to beep me!  There is a video tape of that night, and we are all running around and dancing in the living room to Snow, “Informer…a licky boom boom now…” in the middle of me singing and dancing I start freaking out, “Bob beeped me!  Bob beeped me!!” I run over to the camera with a smile wider than a mile, and show the camera the beeper, “I love Bob, and Bob loves me!!!! YAY Happy Motha-luvin New Year Baby!!!”

The party was still booming at 4AM when Bob walked in the door. 

 I had expected him a whole lot earlier, but the poor guy got on the wrong train on the way home.  I didn’t care, I was so happy to see him!!!  I was fairly incoherent at that point in time, and I can remember him telling me we had to get out of there… then waking up at his place.

“I love you Bob”

“I love you too Beautiful”

“Are you using a condom?”

“Of course I am baby, don’t you trust me?”

see also  Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5

Disguise

 by Sue/littledosie age 18

I am lost

Unaware

Trying to ignore my mind

I showed him

A side of me that wasn't there

Because I thought I needed to

Because I knew he didn't care.

Through my tears I can't explain

The thoughts that tumble through me.

I tried to avoid this feeling...

I tried

I am just lost

and Confused;

and I don't know what to do.

I feel so lost

I don't know how to feel

Everything's confusing

I can't tell what is real.

He is missing her

and I know he still loves her,

I want to pretend that she's not there,

That for now there is no other.

Her pictures surround me as he holds me close

Does he hold me or her memory?

I feel needed

Even if it is because of lies,

Even if I am in disguise

as her.

I am lost, unaware

I know he doesn't love me.

I know he doesn't care.

Still, why do I fall?

©littledosie.mindsay.com

At some point in March I realized that I had been drinking way too much since Bob and I started dating.  My friends and I took advantage of the fact that we had this now 24 year old dude to buy us whatever we wanted at the liquor store, and as a result the end of 1994 and the beginning of 1995 are a bit spotty in my memory.

I knew that I had been drinking too much because it was affecting my personal life, my work, my college, and my physical health.  It screwed me up so bad that I didn’t get my period for 2 months.  That is when I decided I needed to stop drinking for a while.

At the end of March I got a bit nervous that I still hadn’t gotten my period, and I didn’t know what to do.  I figured that Bob and I always used condoms, so there was no way I could be pregnant.  When I confided in my brother Kenny’s girlfriend she took me to a clinic to get a pregnancy test.

HOLY SHIT

I was pregnant.

I cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried till I didn’t have any tears left to cry.

I was so scared.

My parents were going to kill me.

Oh my God.  How did this happen to ME????

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!!!!

How the hell was I going to tell Bob?

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!!!!

Later that day we were at his house, and he knew something was wrong with me.  I told him what had happened that day, and that I was pregnant.

He was very calm, and cool, and said, “That’s OK Baby, you can get an abortion.”

WHAT???  No, NO, NO WAY!!! That is not an option; I am not having an abortion, that isn’t an option!!!!

“What did you just say?” I sobbed.

“Honey, we can’t do this, you can’t have a baby.  You can get an abortion.  It is easy, it is fine, my ex-girlfriends have had them, it’s no big deal.”

NO BIG DEAL!!! WHAT THE HELL DOES HE MEAN NO BIG DEAL??? There is a life growing inside me and he thinks that’s no big deal????  Holy shit, shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!!!!!  What am I going to do??? What am I going to do?

He kept pushing the abortion issue on me.  He told me how I needed to stay in school, how I was only 18, and I couldn’t be a parent, he said that it was still early enough that I should do it.  “I can call one of my ex’s if you want to know what it is like.”

I couldn’t believe he was saying any of this, I told him I needed to be alone, I needed to think.  I was absolutely mortified.

I remember the next day vividly.  I hadn’t slept all night, and I refused to take any phone calls.  I had so much on my mind, and I didn’t know how to work through any of it.  I kept hearing him say, “That’s OK Baby, you can get an abortion…. I can call one of my ex’s if you want to know what it is like..”

I kept thinking about that over and over and over again… Finally I decided I was going to call his most recent ex-girlfriend, the beautiful blonde whose pictures made me so jealous in the beginning of our relationship.

I called Bob to tell him this, but before I could say anything he cuts me off and says, “Honey, I am on long distance with my mother, I will have to call you back.”

So I figure, fine, I’ll just call her.

I call her, and she answers, “Hello?”

“Um, Hi, is this Jen?”

“Yup this is, who is this?”

“Sue… um you know Bob right?”

She says, “Yea, he’s on the other line right now, what’s up?”

WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?  BOB is on the other line with HER??? He just told me he was on LONG DISTANCE with his MOTHER, and he was talking to his EX-GIRLFRIEND????

“Ummm, Do you have a second to talk?”

“Sure”

“OK, just please don’t tell Bob that it’s me.” I whimper

“Fine, hold on a minute.”  She says

I am totally flipping out inside my head at this point; I couldn’t believe that Bob just lied to me, why the hell would he lie????

“Hello? Sue?” she says with her sweet girly girl voice.

“Yes, I’m here.” I said.

“Bobby has told me about you, I guess you have a lot going on right now, huh?” she said.

“Yea, that’s actually why I called you.  Bob said that you might have good advice.”

“About being pregnant?” she replied.

“ummm.. yea…” I stuttered.

“So what does James think about this?” she asks.

Now I was confused… James?  James was a friend of mine who had been trying to get me to break up with Bob and date him… but what????

“James???” I asked.

“Yea, James, the father… what does he think?”  she asks.

“No, James isn’t the father, Bob is.” I said.

“My Bobby?” she asks in a puzzled voice…..

I couldn’t believe she just said, “My Bobby?” in that disgusting girly girl voice… who did she think she was???

“Bob is my boyfriend,” I said in a shaky voice “we have been dating since last summer, he is the father.”

“WHAT?” she spouted “WHAT?? NO, No way, we are together, he is my boyfriend! You must be crazy.”

“Oh My God” I start crying, “I can’t believe this… he told me that you broke up a long time ago… he said that you were just friends… how did this happen?”

That phone conversation shed light on many unanswered questions… that phone conversation is forever in my memory.  I was feeling so many thousands of different things, I had no idea what to do, and I didn’t understand why this was happening!

It turns out that every time he told me he was working, he was with Jen.  Every time he said he had a class, he was with Jen.  Vice-versa for her. 

I can’t believe I really honestly believed that bodyguard shit!  He never worked as a bodyguard!!  He was with her in Boston on New Years Eve.  He was with her the night that he got me pregnant.  I was sick to my stomach.  I was horrified.  I wanted to die; I wanted to die so bad.

I called Bob after my phone conversation with his OTHER girlfriend ended…  I asked why he didn’t call me back.

“I just got off the phone with my mother.” He said.

“Really?  I thought you were talking to Jen.” I replied in an emotionless tone.

“What are you talking about Sue?  You need to stop being so jealous honey.”

“OK, I KNOW you were just talking to Jen, because I just got off the phone with her.”

“WHAT?  Why did you…what did you…what the fuck!”  and then he hung up on me.

I remember hanging up that phone, and burying my face in my pillow… my eyes dried out from crying so many tears, my heart wailing, my soul broken, my innocence gone.

Three days went by, and I didn’t leave my bedroom. 

I didn’t eat, I didn’t talk to anyone, I didn’t move. 

I told my parents that I was sick, and wanted to stay in bed.

I wanted to die right then, so much more than I ever wanted to die in my whole life.

Jen called me after three days to see how I was.  The thing is, she really was a nice girl, I just hated her out of jealousy, and in another world I would have been a friend with her. 

Bob tried to call me numerous times, and I told my parents I didn’t want to talk to him.  My mother knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her.  I just kept screaming at her to leave me the hell alone!

My Dad was the last person I would ever talk to about anything like this, but he was the first person I saw when I decided I couldn’t handle it alone anymore.

I remember him sitting on the edge of my bed, in my bedroom that had a blend of childish/teenage things scattered throughout… not ready to hear what I was about to tell him.

“Dad, I don’t know what to do!! I don’t know what to do!!” I sobbed.

He hugged me; “I can’t help you if I don’t know what is wrong.”

“I want to tell you, but I don’t want you to flip out, and you need to listen to everything I say before you say anything OK?”

“OK” he agreed.

“I am pregnant, and Bob wants me to have an abortion, and I don’t want to have an abortion, and I just found out that the whole time we have been together he has been with his ex-girlfriend, and I hate myself, and I hate my life, and I don’t know what to do!!!”  I cried into my father’s chest, and I could hear his heart breaking right there in his teenage daughter’s bedroom.

See also:  Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

My mother and father were incredible to me during that time in my life.  My mother took me to the doctor immediately to make sure everything was all right, and that I wasn’t dehydrated from not eating for so long.

She told me everything would be all right, and she would help me.

I was so scared, and despite all the pain, I missed Bob.

He kept calling me, and I kept avoiding the phone calls…

My mother told me that I would need to have him involved if he was going to be, and that he should go to the doctor’s appointments with me, and eventually he did.

We listened to the heartbeat together at the doctor’s office, and he looked at me and said, “I Love you Sue.”

I hated him.

He apologized over and over again, but I didn’t care.  I couldn’t stand him.

He ripped out my heart, sliced it to pieces and poured acid all over it. 

I hated him, and I still loved him all at the same time.

Though I didn’t want to be with Bob any longer, I did start getting used to the concept of this baby.  My mother was buying me books, my friends were making me feel so much better about it, and soon I didn’t think it would be so bad.  I had begun planning for the future thinking further ahead past times in my life I never even imagined.  Looking at baby clothes, smiling at little babies knowing I would soon have one of my own.

I was looking forward to my next doctor’s visit when we were going to get an ultrasound, and I would be able to see my baby for the first time!

Before we knew it the day had come, and we were off to the doctor to see our baby.  I was so excited, my mother was excited, I was at peace with this decision, and this was all going to work out.

I remember that day like it was yesterday, my bladder was filled with all the water I had to drink that morning in order to get a good Ultrasound, my heart was fluttering in my chest, and I was holding Bob’s hand for the first time in over a month.

I lay on the doctor’s table as the technician rolls the machine across my slightly swollen belly.  Finally she stops in one place… Bob says, “Is that the baby??” 

She replies in a monotone voice, “Yes”

“It is so tiny” I giggled…

She doesn’t say anything else… the room feels strange… Bob asks her if something is wrong… she doesn’t say anything, and she wipes off my stomach and tells me to go into the doctor’s office to discuss the results.

When she left the room, I began to panic, “Bob, what is wrong?  Why didn’t she say anything?”

Bob says, “She is just a bitch, don’t worry.”

We go into the doctor’s office and I start to feel the walls caving in on me.. I can hardly breathe. I see mouths moving, but I can’t hear anything… I don’t want to hear anything… and then I hear, “The fetus stopped developing…”

My baby died inside of me.  I had a dead baby in my stomach.

I couldn’t breathe, all I could hear was my heartbeat, and everything went black.

They sent me home that night, with surgery scheduled for the next day.  I can’t describe where I was at that night.  I can’t even begin to describe all the emotions that were swirling around inside of me… I was lost in pools of sadness… I was broken.  I didn’t sleep that night, I just lay on the couch holding my stomach, crying, and not wanting to believe that this was really my life.

The next day is a complete fog to me… they took the baby… I was on pain medication.. I wanted to die.

I hated Bob, I hated my life, I wanted to die.  Nothing would ever change, my life would never change.

I drank so much.  I didn’t stop drinking.  I didn’t want to feel anymore of the pain, I couldn’t handle it.  I started cutting.  I started bingeing and purging.  I had no control over anything in my life, except hurting myself, and that is all that I did.

I stopped going to college, I quit my jobs, I was always drunk… my friends didn’t know what to think of me… my family was worried and I didn’t care.  I was dead to myself anyhow, who really cared.

Around six months later I was at a party, and I was totally out of my mind.  I have no idea what I did, but my brother ended up calling my parents, and Bob.

I don’t remember what happened, I only remember waking up in Bob’s arms on my parents couch, with my Mom there with us.

They both told me how much they loved me, and that I needed to get a hold of myself.  Bob was crying, and he said that he would do whatever he needed to do to help me, and to get me to trust him again…

“I love you, and I want to be with you.”

I wanted to believe him; I wanted to be with him too…

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

Sue,

I can't put into the proper words what I feel.  I love you, I care about you, I want you to be happy, I want you to have every oppportunity to gain that happiness

It was not easy for me to stay in the bedroom last night and listen to what you were saying, but I did.  You certainly didn't need me in addition to Bob and Mom, to further embarass you and admonish you.

Do not be so hasty in making your decisions and try to take the time to study all the facts before you act.  To make the statement that nobody cares, is so far off the wall that when you stop and analyze it, it makes no sense at all!

I know in my heart, (I'm sure your mother feels the exact same way) that no one in the world loves and cares for you more!

When you opened up to me and told me about the pregnancy, I was shocked and hurt, but the hurt I felt, and feel was/is for you, not for me.  When you searched your soul and decided to carry the baby, I was proud of you and not only agreed with, but honored your decision.  When you lost the baby, I shared and still share your hurt.  They say that time heals all wounds, I'm not sure that is totally true, but I assure you, it will become easier to bare, and in God's time he'll give you an abundance of things to hold onto and love and receive love from!

I am truly sorry and equally ashamed for the poor example I have set, and assure you that I will work harder than ever before to eliminate my problems, no matter what stupid reasons and excuses I have for them.

Be strong, and use the great gifts that you have received to their fullest, for you have much to give, and truly in the giving is the real receiving.

If you need me I'm here, and will be as long as I live, and even afterwards if I can find a way.

I love you so!!

Dad.

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

I want to note that as I type these words, I can see everything so much clearer than I could looking through my 18 year old eyes.  Hindsight 20/20, but these are events that have made me who I am today… so in a funny little way shitty things served a bigger purpose.

December 7, 1995 I turned 19 years old, and I celebrated with my best friends, my brothers, my sister, my parents, and Bob. 

Bob stayed by my side through so much, that I really believed he loved me.  Everyone makes mistakes, we were in love, I was on birth control, and we were better. 

Bob lived in his own reality though.  He couldn’t help but lie, and I began catching him in those lies.  There were definitely other girls, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the actual detective work. 

“Bob feels so distant right now, he hasn’t said I love you for about a week now.  I love him, I know that I do, but I don’t feel the same anymore.  It feels so empty.  Maybe things are fading away, or maybe it’s a phase.  I don’t know… It’s just that he’s not here for me like I need him to be.

He never wants to do anything, I can’t sit in all the time!  I feel like and old married lady!! Lately I’ve been finding that when he doesn’t want to be with me, there are other people who will want to.  I won’t cheat on him, I’m not like that, but I feel so lonely.  I can’t keep this up if it doesn’t get better.”

I had passed up so many different guys for my commitment to Bob, and I was starting to really regret that.  I wanted to date other people; I didn’t want to feel like a fool anymore.  We agreed to stay friends, but we were going to finally move on with our lives.

I felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.  I was free… I had devoted two years of my life to this man who only left me feeling empty.  I realized that his looks and his charm were the only things that got him through life.  He couldn’t keep a job, he stole things, he was a chronic liar, and a cheater.  I didn’t love him anymore.

Bob soon discovered that he didn’t like the idea of us not being together, and he tried and tried to get back together with me to no avail.

I soon discovered that the dating world wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.  I resumed my normal pre-date ritual of saying, “I am not going to have sex with you.” And I stopped taking the pill, because it cost too much money, and I had NO plans to be sexually active any time soon.

Bob and I tried to remain friends, and we still had many mutual friends.

He told me his mother’s trailer had burnt down in Florida, and he was going to move there for a while to help her build a new home.  I was a bit sad because we had been through so much together, but I knew we would always be friends.

The week before Bob was planning to move to Florida, we received an invitation to visit some friends that were in the service, and just got stationed in New Jersey.  Bob knew that I was dating other guys, and we had a pretty good friendship base at this point in time, so I didn’t think it would be a problem.

While in New Jersey we went to some local bar.  I was 19, and I was with three “grown-ups” J I was the total shit because I was drinking in a bar!  Did I factor in the fact that I had stopped drinking for a while, and for a reason?  Of course not, I was 19 and INVINCIBLE!

What I can remember of that night is a blur of laughter, drinking, and silly-ness.

We intended on going home that night, but I woke up the next day in their living room.

Apparently Bob ended up as drunk as I and decided it wouldn’t be safe to drive back home that night, so Mike pulled out the sleeper sofa and that’s where we crashed.

It was a fun night, but woa… with a hangover like I had, it wasn’t a good morning.  I spent the whole morning in the bathroom, it was awful.

Bob was very rude to me that day, and I was so confused.  I kept asking if I did anything the night before that pissed him off, but never seemed to get an answer, he was just really pissed off at me, and wouldn’t say anything else about it.

The week went by, and I said a tearful goodbye to Bob as he left for Florida, he wanted me to come with him for the first week, “Just to see his family”, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea.  The time for Bob and I had passed, and this move was a going to be a good thing for the both of us.

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10

So begins the part of my story where you start thinking, "What was she thinking?"  :)

*The end of our relationship... the beginning of my life*

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11

I am looking for new songs for the band to learn, so picture yourself out at a young, hip club on a weekend night, with a couple blue drinks in you (hee hee!)

listening to a cover band... what would you like to hear?  Guy songs, and Girl songs... Preferably more upbeat girl songs...

I am having a hard time picking those out.  The only one I can think of at the moment is Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone"

Any suggestions?

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11  Part 12

See you Monday!

(p.s. I tried to find a Purim smiley, so as to be all-inclusive, but I couldn't... though I did find Passover smiley's but that would be a bit premature, eh?)

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend.

We had a good Easter. 

Besides Brianna being totally adorable, singing really loud in church, and making everyone smile… you want to know what my favorite thing this weekend was?

I got THE CUTEST shoes! 

Yup… I am so “that girl” right now, and I don’t even care!

I started a brand new Easter tradition for myself.

From here on in, Easter, just wont be Easter, unless I end the day dancing in front of my mirror in my undies and a brand new pair of adorable heels! 

It’s the little things people, sometimes it is just the little things.

So, now that I have created a community of Bob-haters..(wasn't my original intention, but I can't help it if it is a side-effect of the truth)  I figure I shall share with you my latest chapter in the "Bob is a big fat stupid asshole loser head immature irresponsible jerky poo" book.

Brianna was with the sperm donor this weekend.  She is currently reading "A Series of Unfortunate Events" by Lemony Snicket

Bob calls me Saturday, "Susanne, we need to talk"   the asshole calls me Susanne because he knows I don't like it! (makes me think of my mommy getting mad at me!)

"Susanne, have you read any of these books you have our child reading?  Do you have any idea what they are about?"

"Yea, they are children's books, what's the big deal?"

"Well, its just for the fact that, considering all the stress she has been having lately don't you think she shouldn't be reading such depressing books?" he says seemingly proud of his responsible parenting role that he is taking in a room that I can hear is filled with people, and I am obviously on speaker phone.  (Yes, he has me on speaker phone all the time... I HATE IT!)

(AND what does, "it's just for the fact that" mean?  He says that all the time... does it really mean anything?)

"Bob, I highly doubt that her reading a popular children's series is going to have an adverse effect on her.  Has she complained about it?"

"I just think you need to check these out, I don't think she should be reading them."

"Whatever, I gotta go."

That was my wonderful conversation with the sperm donor yesterday, the wonderful concerned father that he is.

Yesterday Brianna came home.  I was getting my beautiful girl ready for church, in her pretty dress, and doing her hair, when I noticed she had a cut on her eyelid.   "What happened to your eye honey?"

"*my stepsister* was holding the BB gun and the end of it hit me in the eye."

Now lets take a step back for a moment shall we?  What is wrong with this picture?

This is the SECOND time I have had to speak with the sperm donor about him being irresponsible with guns, as this past summer she was shot in the leg with a plastic BB.  I am not a fan of guns, I must say, but aside from that, anyone who is pro-gun has to agree that RESPONSIBILITY needs to be used wherever guns are concerned.

I think, Thank God the gun didn't go off while the end of it was on my daughter's eye.  I would think that even if there wasn't a BB in the gun, the burst of air that would have come out of it could do some sort of damage to her little eye, no?

I try to control my anger and I pick up the phone, "Bob, I am confused as to why you have such an issue with her reading a series of children's books when you have no problem with her watching Friday the 13th at your house, or watching you play video games like Halo, or Socum, or Grand theft Auto..(I got that idea from Paul... I am so bad at defending myself) and to boot, she has a cut on her eye because *her stepsister* hit her with the end of a BB Gun?"

His response?  "You know what? -*click-dial tone*"

It never ends.

Ahhh... see, everything does work out in the end.  I am so in love.

**Edited to add** I just looked at the yearbook blog after I posted this... Oh jeesh, I swear I didn't put this up because of that... kinda funny though.

I don't usually do these, but this one seemed fun!

1. What is the first word that comes to mind when you think of me?

2. Run a google image search on that word.

3. Reply to this entry and post the image here.

4. Put this in your journal, so others can do the same.

5. Don't use a word that's already been used!

It took me quite some time after breaking up with Bob to actually think about dating again.  I was completely turned off by the subject of men, emotional games, lies, and penises as a whole.

I worked as a waitress until Brianna was about 2 years old so that I could work at night and spend all day with her. 

My life consisted of Brianna and work, and I was happy with that.  I turned 21 on December 7, 1997 with no wild and crazy stories.

I started working as a Disc Jockey soon after that, and that is when my social life started to bloom.  I have to admit, I liked it. 

I still wasn’t interested in a relationship, and I didn’t have a lot of respect for men as a whole, so I enjoyed the dating scene, carefully avoiding any sexual relationships so to avoid any false emotions, or complications.  I was casually dating about 4 guys in the summer of 1998.

I had a steady work schedule DJ’ing at local clubs.  Sunday night I would DJ Karaoke, Friday and Saturday night, I would either DJ at a club or work a function.  It worked out well that my work also served the purpose of my social life.

I started working Wednesday nights at another local bar, also doing karaoke.  I worked with my friend/boss Shannon, she knew the owners of this particular bar, and said it would be a fun gig to work.  The second time I worked there I met Nick.

Nick was a bartender at this bar, he was very well built, but wasn’t the most facially attractive man at first sight.  Nick would not stop flirting with me.  I gave him the usual script, “I am not interested in dating.”

“I won’t give you my phone number, you can give me yours but I probably won’t call..”,

“I have too many issues to deal with a relationship”

He had an answer for every one of my defenses.  He was quite persistent.

I would joke with the customers over the microphone when I was working, and one night I mentioned that I was in the mood for Filet Mignon. 

 Within 45 minutes Nick had a delivery service provide me with the most incredible meal right there in the bar.  This amused me, and became a little game between the two of us, each week I would spout out some ridiculous request, and each week he would deliver… balloons, flowers, ice cream, cakes, stuffed animals… it was getting ridiculous.

As the weeks progressed I spent more time talking to Nick, and I got to know him.  Suddenly there was “something about him”, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something that was attracting me to him.  He was an athlete, and was built like one.

He worked hard for his body, and he knew that it looked good.  His shirts caressed the muscles on his chest and arms just right, making me wonder what he looked like without his shirt on.

He began showing up at the other clubs I was working at just to see me, I thought that was so flattering, but it also made me nervous, as I usually had some guy I was ‘dating’ at the club each time.

I remember saying to Shannon one Wednesday, “I don’t know Shannon, it’s weird, I think I am attracted to Nick.. look at him over there behind the bar… something just makes me want to rip off his shirt.”

Shannon smiled at me as if she already knew that.

The next day,  Shannon and I did a show at a Nursing Home, singing old songs with the residents.  In the middle of the show a man in a tuxedo came into the room, all the little old women were so excited! 

He gave me an enormous box filled with the most beautiful long stemmed roses; my “Secret Admirer” signed the card. 

The way Shannon was smiling at me I knew it wasn’t a secret.

“Oh Shit” I thought to myself.

Part 1

I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do about Nick.  I was really attracted to him, it was a very intense physical attraction that I can’t quite explain without sounding a bit trashy, and so I will just leave it at a physical attraction.  I had never felt the weird hormonal pull towards anyone like I did to him.  Maybe it was caveman/cavewoman syndrome or something, but his big strong commanding body really made me… *chills*

I had Shannon ask around to get the goods on him.  He was divorced, and was also 6 years older than me, just like Bob.  (Why did I keep dating older guys?)  He had a great circle of friends, and no one had anything bad to say about him.  Nick had told me himself that he worked at an elementary school, and I thought that was adorable.

I was a very good girl, and I resisted all sexual advances from him for a whole month of casually dating.  It was hard, and he knew what he was doing for sure.

We had plans to go out to lunch one afternoon, and I met him at his condo.  He greeted me at the door in a pair of basketball shorts.   JUST a pair of basketball shorts.

I was flustered, and ridiculously embarrassed.  His body was incredible; really seriously, I couldn't believe this body is real, incredible!  His Abs… Oh God his Abs… I didn’t know real people could chisel their bodies like this; he was a physical specimen, a work of art!  I was staring at him, and turning red, and I didn’t know what to say. 

“You’re ummm…. Naked!”  I blurted out.

“I am not naked, I just don’t have my shirt on.” He replied with a cocky grin.

“You need to put your clothes on, you’re naked!  Put your clothes on… c’mon!!” I giggled.

“OK, I will put my shirt on if you insist” he says as he leans past me to grab his T-shirt off of his couch. 

His arm brushed mine, and I could tell I was junk.  I was JUNK!  He looked at me, looked into my eyes, I tried to look away but he took my face in his hands and kissed me.

I felt weak.  I felt overwhelmed.  I felt horrified.  I felt good.  It was crazy.

OK, OK, I can do this, I am calm.. smooth… composed… it is just a kiss… oh man… what a kiss… it’s no big deal, I have kissed plenty of guys in the past couple years, this is no different.  But Shit, this guy is kissing me like I have never been kissed!  He is practically making love to my mouth right now…and he isn’t wearing a shirt… and his muscles… his arms oh man… they are so strong and I am so weak right now.. shit shit shit!!!!

Yea, so… we didn’t go out for lunch, and instead stayed on his couch for an hour or two JUST KISSING!   Who the hell does that??? Who “Just kisses” for hours???  Believe me, I didn’t think it could be enjoyable ever… but the physical attraction was insane.

I had to work at his bar that weekend, and he drove me home at the end of the night.  We were sitting in his car outside of my house when he dropped the bomb.  “Sue… um…”

“What?”

“ummm… I… I… I Love You.” He said looking right at me.

Shit, shit shit shit SHIT!!!!  What the hell!! Why??? Why??? WHY!!!!  NO  NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!! NO!!!! No falling in love!!! None of this!!! No good!!! NO NO NO!!!! I can’t handle this!!! Why the hell is he telling me this???  We barely know each other; he has no idea what the hell he is talking about.

I struggle to speak, “OK, umm… I gotta go, thanks for the ride.” 

I reach to open the door and he takes my other hand, “Sue, I know that you have been hurt before, I have talked to your friends.  I don’t blame you if you don’t trust me, but my feelings are real.  I am 29 years old and I know my feelings.  Trust me.  I want to be with you.  I want to be WITH you, but I can’t handle the competition.  You need to decide if you want to be with me or not, because I can’t handle you dating the other guys.  If you want to be with me, then it is just... I...  I am falling for you, and I don’t want to get hurt either.”

Silence, I am mortified.

“Don’t say anything now, just think about it… think about it and I will call you tomorrow.”

And with that I left the car and went inside my house.

HE LOVES ME??? HE LOVES ME??? Can that really be possible?  What the hell am I supposed to do?  What am I supposed to do?  I have to pick him or the other guys?  Shit, this sucks, I can’t handle this.  Shit shit shit!!!

One of the guys that I was casually dating at the time was my high school crush.  That relationship is a whole other story, but he was my ONE weakness.  I had to know if things would work out with him before I made any decisions about Nick.

I called him that night, “Billy?”

“Yup… Whats up?”

Oh God, I am so stupid, why am I calling him?  Why am I saying this?  It is going to sound so silly….but I HAVE to know!

“Umm… well… I met this guy, and he seems really nice, but he wants to be serious and date exclusively, and uh… I just… umm… wanted to be sure that there was no chance that anything serious would… ummm… ever.. uh *cough* happen with us.”

Silence… (I really hate uncomfortable silent moments)

So I continue, “Don’t feel like you are going to hurt my feelings, I know that we have just been hanging out, and nothing serious, I just… I just really like you and if there was another chance for us to be together I wouldn’t want to blow it like I did last time.”

“Sue, you know I love you, but I don’t LOVE you.  We have a wicked awesome relationship, but not that kind of relationship.  I can’t keep you from seeing what is there with this guy.  I think you should try things with him, I am always going to be your friend.”

“Yea… I figured, but I just wanted to check” I was a little disappointed, but relieved to actually know none-the-less. 

Billy and I talked on the phone that night until the sun came up. I knew it was because he was saying good-bye to me. 

What was I getting myself into?

 Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

I have to admit it.  I cried a little bit about the whole Billy situation, but just a little bit. 

The other guys that I was dating at the time were expendable, and I didn’t feel that I needed to call any of them, to explain anything; I figured that ceasing telephone contact would suffice.

I called Nick, and we had a very casual, uncomfortable, forced conversation that was saturated with meaningless bullshit small talk.  He interrupted me mid-sentence and said, “Have you made a decision?”

Why can’t this just be easy?  Why can’t this just feel natural?  Why is this so scary?  What the hell is up with my stupid brain and stupid heart and stupid stupid stupidity!!!!

“Uh… about what?” I try to be coy.  (Can’t you just see me wrapping my hair around my finger, batting my eyelashes?)

“You know what.” He replies with a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose if you promise to be really nice to me, and never be mean, and never be scary, and respect my responsibilities as a parent… I could…” the rest of the sentence I say very fast, “problybeyourgirlfriend”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH Did I really just say that out loud???  Was I smoking Crack??? What was I doing??? Shit, I was happy, I was excited, but I was also peeing my pants.

 My heart was beating so hard that I thought it was going to explode.  I was going to explode.  Oh boy!

He was pretty happy about my decision, and though I was very scared, I was happy too, it had been a long time since I was excited about a guy, I figured that I was ready, and I had paid my dues.

The first few ‘official’ weeks of my relationship with Nick were incredible!  He took me to places I had never been!  I ate at the finest restaurants! (No elbows on the table!)  He gave me a card almost every other day, always professing his undying love for me, telling me how I was like no other woman.  He would tell me I was beautiful, and he made me feel beautiful.  When I was wrapped up in his big strong arms I felt like a petite little girl, and I felt safe.

Then…

Bob got word that I had a ‘boyfriend’ and he didn’t take to kindly to that news.  Something inside him was still holding on to the possibility that I was going to come to my senses and take him back.  He felt like Nick was treading on his turf, and he didn’t like it.