I will spoil me (My new promise to myself)...

Okay, so I am sitting here doing nothing, when what I should be doing is cleaning my house. Oh well, it will still be dirty when I am ready to do it. So, I got to thinking, since no one bothered to get me anything for my birthday (with the exception of Toni who got me a grill thingy, and Bill and Deb who got me a card.), I am going to buy myself something I really want. Two somethings actually. The first being the Hinder "Lips of an Angel" hoodie. Now, The Honey wanted to buy me that one, but since the only place I know to get it is the website addy I already linked to, it probably would not be a good idea for him. He asked me where to get it, but I told him that it may not be an easy task explaining that credit card charge. That being said, I will buy it for myself. I think I will order it as soon as I get done writing this post. The second thing I have decided to buy for my birthday is the "Monarch of the Glen" series on DVD. It was a great show put out by the BBC, and aired on our local PBS station for years, until the powers that be decided to quit showing it in syndication that is. I miss it. I used to watch faithfully. The complete series becomes available on DVD on October twenty third. (Which incidentally is also my son Jamie's fourteenth birthday!) (WOW, if he is fourteen, I am old!) So, I will pre-order that and maybe I will save it to give myself for Christmas, another holiday when I am generally forgotten. But, since no one else will spoil me, I will spoil myself! Yeah, I think I will do that now. That's all, Bye.

Kind of...

Okay, so I did not lose my job. Kind of. I did get laid off. But I was hired on Friday by another plant owned by the same company and just across the parking lot from my old facility. We had a nice evening at work. Pretty easy all told. After work, some of us went out for an evening of fun and saying goodbye. We won't all be together anymore, and I will miss my friends. Boss Lady and I have made plans for a few get togethers in October. I exchanged numbers with various others who will not be moving to the new plant with me. I hope we all get together again soon. We had great fun. We danced, some of them got brave and sang, we drank (Oh, did I drink!), and there were even a few last minute confessions of secret crushes. All in all, not a bad way to end. After we finished breakfast, I called The Honey. We had, well, a wonderful chat. I have missed him, and am grateful that he is out on the road again and able to talk to me freely. My son Jamie came to spend the weekend with us, and I am so glad. He has spent a lot of time with his friends here, but he has made sure to save some time for his old mommy too, so all is well. I love that boy. That's all, Bye.

Tonight...

Okay, so here I am, as promised. I will admit that I did not write this "first thing". Mainly because I woke up late. I slept a full six hours, which is a blessing as the lack of sleep effects me in such a way that I start feeling depressed after a few weeks of three hours a day. My mind goes to dark and scary places, and my whole life suffers because of my insomnia. So the sleep is good, but it caused me to miss my phone call, and almost made Corey miss the bus. That poor child had five minutes to get dressed, while I was brushing her hair, brush her teeth, give me a kiss, and run (and I mean that literally) to the bus stop where the other kids were forcing the bus to wait by refusing to get on until Corey made it. (Bless their sweet little souls.) (The bus has left before while she was running down the street to catch it. Stupid bus driver!) I just can not get over the fact that I slept through the phone ringing, and the alarm going off, not once but twice. (I set my double alarm. It goes off at fifteen til seven and again at seven to guarantee my lazy ass gets out of bed.) So after getting her off to school, and spending about three minutes with The Honey (He is already at work.), I got online, read my email, my myspace mail, my offline messages, and Handbook for the Hellbound. I smoked about four cigarettes. I drank a cup of nasty instant coffee, and here I am. Tonight is my last night at my job. It sucks. I never have really liked the job, but I have really learned to like most of the people I work with. It took some time, but I have become very close to many of the women (and men) that I work with. We are kind of like a disfuncional family of sorts. We have our problems, a bit of a language barrier is one, but we all really like each other, and we will miss each other. Take for example one freind in particular. She and I have formed a bond. She speaks to me in Spanish, I speak to her in English, and yet we have never seemed to have any problem communicating. I understand her completely. Last night, she was crying. I asked her what was wrong. She rambled at me in Spanish for awhile, and then put her arm around my shoulders and hugged me. I knew exactly what she meant. I will miss her too. Another one of the women who has managed to learn about ten English words to talk to me, got one of the leads to tell her how to say goodbye to me. She shook my hand warmly in both of hers, and managed to get her mouth to spit out the words "Glad to know you." To which she added "Amiga". I will miss her as well. Tonight we will be having a "Goodbye" dinner on our lunch break. Everyone has anted up a few bucks and they will be ordering something. After work tonight, I was supposed to be going to the bar with The Boss Lady. It is not going quite as planned. It appears our party of two has become a party of about twelve. It will be hard to say goodbye to these good people. I will probably cry. The layoff is for an undetermined period of time. They have offered us positions at another plant here in town. I have signed up to go to the other plant. I need the job. It may be a few weeks before I can get started there, but I will use the time I have wisely. I am going to get my house clean. I am going to spend some quality time with my children. I am going to start using those exercise dvd's I got. I am going to enroll in at least one class at the community college. But for tonight, I will just enjoy spending some time with my friends, and say goodbye. I will make plans with some, I will share my phone number with others, and I will miss them all very much. That's all, Goodbye.

Stay tuned...

Okay, so I really do not want to write tonight. I am very tired. I will fill you all in on the details of my layoff at work first thing in the morning. At least, after my phone call, and a cup of coffee, and a few smokes. Then... I will get to it first thing, I promise. That's all, Goodnight.

A lie by omission is still a lie...

Okay, so I just got off the phone with The Honey. I am afraid I may have told him a lie today. I did not intend to. In fact, it was not really a lie. Rather an omission of the COMPLETE truth. Okay, that is still a lie... We only got to talk for a few minutes. And he had arrived at a location where he was to pick up a friend and coworker. As he arrived, he told me that he had better get going, and I got a bit upset. He asked me what was wrong, and I stated that I miss him. That was the truth. I get spoiled to having him much more often, for much longer periods of time when he is on the road, as opposed to when he is home. But what I failed to bring up is that by cutting me off every time someone else is around, I also end up feeling like his "dirty little secret." I guess it is because I am not having to really hide anything, that I feel free to talk with him in front of whomever happens to be around. I am not ashamed of loving him, and I do not care who knows it. But it makes me feel bad sometimes, to know that he is ashamed of loving me. I probably should not be telling all of you all of this, I should explain it to him. But sometimes, it is easier to vent my shit here. Shit that I know I am powerless to change. I do not ever want to hurt this man, so it is hard for me to let him know directly when he is hurting me. I know he does not intend to hurt me. It is just how it is when you are in a fucked up relationship like this. I guess I am willing to deal with it. But it still hurts. Tommy, I am sorry that I put it here, instead of telling you in person. I am sorry. I love you. Forgive me. That's all, Bye.

(It is now 1:43 Am, the next morning. I have seriously considered just deleting this post as I was just having a crappy day, and I read more into shit than is really there. I do not want to upset The Honey, but he loves me, and he knows the fucked up way my mind works, and he says he loves me during all of my mood swings, and wild minute to minute changes. He understands that I do not really believe half the shit I think, it is just a passing phase, and I will be okay after a bit. Just like now. I know that he is not "ashamed" of loving me. It is just the situation that we are in that dictates discretion. He made me promise some time ago not to change who I am, or edit myself to make him happy. So I will not. I love him, he knows that, and all the rest is petty. That's all, Goodnight.)

Maybe next year...

Okay, short and sweet, to answer the question I was asked. No. I got nothing for my birthday that I asked for. In fact, only one person bothered to get me anything at all this year. And that was Toni. She bought me an indoor grill thing. An off brand of the George Foreman Lean Mean Fat Grilling Machine thingy. I thanked her profusely, and brought it home and cried. I just thought somehow, someway, this year I would get one thing I want. I know I sound like a whiny bitch. And I would never tell Toni. But, just once, one time in my life, I wanted to get something I wanted, instead of what someone else thought I would want. It is not that I am not grateful. I am. Honestly. I just want. I want people to know me well enough to get me. To understand. And to remember. Hell, the hubby did not even remember to say Happy Birthday until it was already over. I should have known that this one wouldn't be any better than all the others, but I am ever the optimist, or the fool, depending on your perspective. Maybe next year. That's all, Goodnight.

The rest of my life...

Okay, so I got home last night and headed straight to my computer. Nothing too unusual. I was hoping to catch The Honey during one of his "bathroom breaks". (That is when he wakes up to use the restroom, and sneaks downstairs to hop online to see if I am there. Isn't he sweet?) I just got all of my many instant messengers open. I opened both my email accounts. I logged into my blog. I read a comment left for me by Mary (AKA CrystalChick). I was getting ready to whip off a reply. And then it happened. I heard a very loud bang. And the lights went out. And my sweet little computer died with the lights. The hubby went to check the breakers. Nope. That was not the problem. I went outside and noticed that most of our neighbors seemed to have power. I grabbed my trusty cell phone, and called Toni to get the number to MidAmerican Energy. (I wouldn't have bothered her normally, but I was sitting in a total blackout after all.) I was pretty upset when I called. They do not let you talk to an actual person. It is an automated system to report power outages. I was upset because I thought they would just ignore it as long as possible, and I would be sitting in the dark indefinitely. But I must say I am impressed. Less than fifteen minutes after my call, one of the big power trucks was here, looking into the problem. Turns out though, that it was not an easy to solve problem. The power went off at about five minutes after one in the morning, and did not get restored until about noon today. In fact, it was not just my house without power, but one or two people per block for about a 15 block radius. One new transformer, four new power junction boxes, and thirty feet of underground cable later, and the lights came back on. In order to do this work though, they had to shut down power to our entire neighborhood. When I woke up this morning, I called The Honey. He was on his way to work, and did not have long to talk. We spoke for a few minutes, and then I went out to the school bus stop with Corey. I walked to Toni's hoping for a hot cup of coffee, and some television to keep me company. (As Toni sleeps until about noon everyday.) No such luck as her power had been turned off as well for the repairs. Her son Vince who lives next door to her, was sitting out on the porch chatting with a friend of ours, Mark. I joined them. Soon, Lynn showed up. Lynn is a good friend of mine. (Also Vince's step-daughter.) The four of us just hung out for a few hours killing the time we normally would have used online, watching television, or engaging in some other form of anti-social behaviour that requires the use of electricity. It was nice. I miss the interaction with live adults some times. I have so many friends online, that I sometimes spend all my free time chatting away on here, and not seeing my friends, like Lynn, who just live a couple of blocks away. I need to start making a point of visiting friends in person from now on. (What is even more sad, is that I have friends who I rarely see in real life, but chat with regularly online. They live within eight blocks of me.) I called The Honey back, to leave him a message while he was working. He answered the call. We spoke for a few minutes, and then he had to get back to work. The power had come back on by this point, so I called the hubby to remind him to restart the filter on my aquarium. By the time I got off the phone with the hubby, I was already in tears. I had by this point spoken to both The Honey, and the hubby, twice each. Neither one of them said Happy Birthday, and the day was more than half over. Toni got up, and told me that I deserve better than both of them. We headed out the door for my work. The Honey called. He told me he loved me, he missed me, and wished he could be spending my birthday with me. My mood brightened considerably. We talked until just before I started working. I am glad, I miss him. But he did say something today that got me to thinking about my life. I had mentioned that one of my daily blog readers had finally left a message. I told him that it is odd to know that there are people who read my blog everyday, that I have never had personal contact with. How these people know my most intimate details and thoughts, and yet I know nothing about them. He said that it is probably because they have lived similar stories. That I should not feel alone in all the mess I live in in my head. He related a story to me, that his wife had shared with him, about a friend of hers whose life somewhat parallels my own. I joked about someone else living a life as fucked up as mine. He told me that while I was free to refer to my life that way, he could not. And that it is all a matter of opinion. That there are people who would look at his own life and think he has it great, and others who would think his life is not so grand. He spoke about how he has a nice home, in a good neighborhood. A good job. Vehicles that are paid for. And "big boy toys". How he thinks his life is pretty good. But how someone else might think it is not because he works so much and is gone so often. You may be wondering why I am sharing so much of the gist of our conversation with you. Well, the point is this. His life is good. He is happy. I want what he has. I don't mean I need a huge house with more bedrooms than people. I don't need a lot of expensive things. But I want what he has. I want contentment. I want to live knowing that the bills will be paid on time. I want to know that next week, when I no longer have a job, (Yes, Friday is the last day of my job. Then an indefinite layoff.) that the rent will still be paid. I want to not have to know that the loss of my job, means the loss of my cell phone. I want to know that next month when Corey has another field trip that they spring on me at the last minute, that I will be able to have the money that day to pay for it. I want. I don't think I want too much. But, the problem is this. How the hell am I ever going to have what I want? I wanted to buy the Regal from Bill and Deb. Now I can not afford to do it. Say goodbye to the Intrepid as well. Say goodbye to the move I was hoping to make before the new year. Say goodbye to me getting out of this loveless marriage of mine. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life? Scraping by? Barely? When do I get what I want? When do I find the dream I have dreamt for so long? And what in the hell did I ever do so wrong, that this is all I have to look forward to? I just turned thirty six today. Thirty six. And I am nowhere that I want to be. I think I might go to the local community college tomorrow and talk with one of the financial aid counselors. Maybe I will take some business classes. Maybe I will do that during our layoff. Maybe by the time they call me back to work, I won't need to take such a shitty, cold, hard job. Because I can not hope that someone will save me from my messes. I have made them, and the only way it is ever going to get any better, is if I fix them. There is no knight coming to save me on his trusty steed. There is no prince in my future. There is only me, and my life, and what I choose to make of the rest of it. That is all, Goodnight.

A hoodie a day keeps the doctor away...

Okay, for all you "wait until the last possible moment" type of people, you have less than twenty four hours to get a gift in my hot little hands for my Birthday. I know some of you have not even bothered to shop yet, so let me help you out. I found a few more things I would just love. (You can express ship ya know. It will be late, but I will forgive you.)

1.) A Buckcherry Hoodie (Again I want the 2x please... I love big baggy comfy hoodies on a cold day.)

2.) An Incubus Hoodie (Do we really need to go through the size thing everytime?)

3.) A Hinder Hoodie (I want the "Lips of an Angel" one. The biggest it comes is an extra large, so that will do fine.)

Well, that about does it. Yes, I know I asked for nothing but hoodies. But winter is just around the corner you know, and a girl can never have too many hoodies. That's all, Bye.

WTF? OMG I am ROTFLMAO ( I have now officially seen it all)...

Okay, so you know me and my weird Internet surfing habits. I often surf for hours with no particular goal in mind. Just following where ever the links take me. I amuse myself so easily like this. But today, I think I have finally seen it all. I came across a page that showed this picture.




Not only was the picture itself amusing enough to make me giggle, but the fact that it was a "cocker" spaniel just sent me into peals of laughter. Yes, I know I have a warped sense of humour, but that is some funny shit. Apparently, someone has decided that Fido was not getting enough bitches to keep him happy, and so they created the "Hotdoll". That's right people, a sex doll for your four footed friends. Now I am all for spoiling your pets, but this has gone just a bit too far, don't ya think? Here is the sales pitch for the Hotdoll.


A dog is an animal with an enormous sexual appetite which can’t be controlled. Many methods consist in artificial ways to stop dogs inborn character. These methods like castration or meds are going against the nature laws. Hotdoll is a natural (and beneficial for dog’s health) way to control its sexual impulses. This love doll for dogs is shaped to be grabbed easily by the dog’s paws like female hips. Hotdoll is designed in 2 sizes to be used by little dogs and by big ones! Its contrasted colors are made to be easily distinguished by dog’s eyes. The body is made by a plastic structure covered with a 1 cm technogel skin to create a soft touch. All orange parts are made of rubber, that way the doll grips on the floor. The pink hole needs to be washed regularly for hygienic reasons.



Now, I do not know about you, but just the thought of cleaning my dog's still warm love juice out of the plastic pussy of a sex doll just turns my stomach. I do not think My little Khan will be getting one of these for Christmas this year. I think I will stick with the nice marinated rawhide chew he is used to receiving. Because I am starting to think that this doll will join the giant vagina and the malformed penis that haunt my dreams already. And I can just picture the doggy daycare of the future. Where the play yard will look something like this.




That image should be enough to give anyone nightmares. That's all, Bye.

I want the front page obituary please...

Okay, so I was asked tonight about my last post. Apparently I need to clear some things up. I was asked about the whole "soul mate" and "man of my dreams" thing. The answer to the question is both yes and no. Yes, I have found the man I believe to be my soul mate, and he is definitely the man of my dreams. However, he is currently unavailable to me, and is likely to stay unavailable to me for the rest of the foreseeable future. So no, he is not the one I was talking about. I was talking about a theoretical man of my dreams. Do I really think I get more than one in a lifetime? Probably not. So probably, instead of getting my twenty eight point two years of bliss, I will end up alone living in a small apartment with thirty cats all named Tom. And yelling at phantom farters to knock it off so I can sleep off the hangover from all the Jack Daniels I will consume to drown my misery. That is the more likely way my life will end up. I just hope that when I die, no one finds me for awhile, and all my kitties consume my deceased flesh, and I make it to the front page of the local paper just once. That's all, Goodnight.

The clock is ticking...

Okay, so in less than forty-eight hours, I will be thirty six years old. Ugh. I do not know why certain birthdays are harder on me than others. Twenty eight really sucked for some reason. And thirty was a mother fucker. Thirty, it just sounded so old at the time. Now I am looking squarely in the face of thirty six. Thirty six for God's sake. Maybe it is so hard for me to accept thirty six because I know that more than half of my life is over by this point, and I am still as unhappy as I have ever been. Thirty six to me at this point screams I am a failure. I have failed in life, I have failed in love, and I am running out of time to fix any of it. I just can not seem to hold on to faith that it will all get better when I know that I have less than half a life left to live. If I were able to marry the man of my dreams right now, right this minute, I would never see my fiftieth anniversary. At this point in my life, I am too old (not to mention too tube tied) to have any more children, which means I will never be able to have a child with my soul mate. If I went back to school this year, I would be forty before I got my degree. Once I got my degree, I would have to start a new career with it. That would mean by the time I hit my twenty years in my chosen field, I would be at least sixty. Then I could retire content that I had succeeded in my chosen profession. At that point, I would have maybe ten or twelve years to enjoy my life before dying. (That is if nothing goes wrong, or the two packs a day I smoke don't kill me much earlier than that.) Does any of this sound like something to look forward to? As for my love life, I figure it will be at least a couple of years before I find the one that will be my life partner. This means that by the time I have the love I have always sought, I will be around forty right? I tend to choose men who are somewhat older than myself. That means that he will be roughly forty seven or eight by then. The average American male lives to the ripe old age of seventy five point two years. Let us assume the man I get to have for the remainder of my life is seven years older than me. That means that at best I can expect twenty eight point two years with the love of my life. That just doesn't seem like long enough to me. Hell, I have wasted fifteen years on a man who it turns out was never really in love with me in the first place. To get less than twice that with the man of my dreams just doesn't seem fair to me somehow. I hate getting old. Maybe I just will refuse to get any older. Maybe I will just stay thirty five forever. Hell, Oprah says that if you just wish for something hard enough, that it will happen. So I wish that the aging process will just stop for me. Time will stand still for me. I will watch everyone around me get old, and die, and I will stay middle aged forever. So, I say to hell with thirty six. I refuse to get that old. I will just turn thirty five again this year. That's my story, and I am sticking to it. So Happy early thirty fifth to me. That's all, Bye.

Feedback is always nice...

Okay, I know I said I was going to bed in my last post, and I am, I promise. But first, I want to just say, that I miss getting comments on my posts. I often feel like I am spilling my guts to the world, and no one is listening. So I want to thank Greencookie and The Honey, who have recently commented on some of my posts, and invite all of you other faithful readers to do the same. (Though I wish The Honey would quit doubting my love and/or my loyalty, since both are alive and well, and strong, and sure.) So come on people, if you want me to keep baring my soul, then start leaving me some feedback, or I can always just pick up a notebook and start going hardcopy like I did in the good ol' days. That's all, Goodnight for real this time.

A girls' night out...

Okay, so I went to the bingo party. It was a good time. I walked out with one prize, but I didn't win the money. Damn it. While I was there, boss lady's daughter invited me to a "slumber party" on the 13th of October. I will be going. A slumber party is actually a sex toy party. LOL. I do not know that I will actually be buying anything, but it should be fun anyway. I might buy myself a Bob. (Battery operated boyfriend) Maybe, because God knows I am starting to get cranky having to go without sex. I would love to try some of the other things they have. Lingerie, books, games, oils, edible lotions etc. etc etc. but since I am flying solo in the sex department these days, there really is no point. After the Slumber Party, we will be having a "Girls Night Out." Apparently we will be attempting to have at least one drink in every bar in town. I was told tonight that they have never actually accomplished this task, but it is sure fun trying. I have invited my sister to tag along. I love her, and she is great fun. Besides, since she kicked her hubby out, she may be in the market for a Bob of her own. I got most of the laundry done tonight. At least enough of it to get us through another week. So at least I did something productive with my one day off this week. I haven't been able to talk with The Honey since about five AM this morning. I miss him like crazy. Isn't that nuts? How can you miss someone you have never even seen? (Other than in a picture of course.) And how is it possible to miss them so badly after so short a time since speaking to them last? I swear, if I wasn't already a little off, this would be driving me there. I really have no idea where this is all headed with The Honey. I know that everyday I want him more. I know that I love him. That I am in love with him. That I want him in my life everyday. That I want him in my arms everyday. But as to if/when any of that will ever happen, I have absolutely no fucking clue. It kind of sucks to be honest. I long for him. I ache for him. And there is not one damned thing I can do about it. I love him enough to wait it out for awhile, and see what happens though. I have hope, and that will have to sustain me. I am tired tonight. I am very tired. I think I am going to turn in early, and try to get some of the sleep that everyone keeps telling me I need. (And yes, one in the morning is early for me.) Well, I guess that is all i have for now, since my eyelids are starting to close without my consent. That's all, Goodnight.

Things about me that you will never need to know (Part Two)...

1.) I laugh sometimes to keep from screaming.
2.) I hate chocolate ice cream.
3.) I almost never wear shoes.
4.) I do not like myself very much.
5.) I can not do a cartwheel.
6.) I dream in color.
7.) I have a crush on my optometrist.
8.) I read in the bathtub.
9.) I sleep with five pillows. Three under my head, one cuddled in my arms, and one between my knees.
10.)I leave the television on when I sleep at night. (Maybe it is to help ward off the bad dreams.)
11.)I ran off to Texas with a boyfriend when I was seventeen.
12.)I spent three years trying to get that same boyfriend to quit calling and writing to me.
13.)I sometimes miss being single with no kids.
14.)I hate my face when I look at it in the mirror.
15.)I sometimes wish I could just disappear. Literally.
16.)I love to fly.
17.)I am sick of people telling me that all the fucked up shit in my life is "all part of God's plan". (If that is so, then God has a sick sense of humour, and I don't think I want to be a part of His plan.)
18.)I can drive a stick shift. (But I struggle on hills.)
19.)I miss sex.
20.)I have recently considered a one night stand as a way of dealing with number 19.
21.)At this point, I would be willing to pay a man just to lay with me and hold me for a couple of hours while I cried.
22.)I am lonely.
23.)I like to paint my fingernails hot pink.
24.)I sometimes wish I could have another baby.
25.)I sometimes wish I never had children.
26.)I love to swim.
27.)I love to feel the wind blowing in my hair.
28.)I love having my neck kissed.
29.)I haven't had my neck kissed in over four years.
30.)I sometimes wish I wasn't a good person, so I could just have the things I want, and not care how it effected other people.
That's all. Goodnight.

Maybe someday...

Okay, so work was cold and boring today. (Or yesterday for those of you who go to sleep when the sun goes down instead of at dawn like I do.) I do not know why I was freezing my ass off. You would think I would be used to it by now, but some days it just seems colder in there than other days. And it was really fucking cold today. It was also boring. Maybe because most of the people I usually joke with all night were other places, or just not there at all. I couldn't wait to get out of there. Finally at a quarter to twelve they let us go. I called Toni, and she came to get me. She comes to get me every night, considering I do not have a drivers license. I have never had one, but that is going to change soon. I did drive us home tonight, since Toni had a headache. Don't worry, it is all perfectly legal. I have a learners permit. (Ha, long story, I will not go into right now. Let's just say that they do not like it when you get caught driving with no license and no insurance, and leave it at that.) But like I said, that will change soon. I am going to buy myself a new car. Well, new to me anyway. Bill and Deb have a nice Regal that they are going to sell me. It is a nice riding car, and big enough to fit all my kids. I am also going to buy a car from my friend Don. It is a little car. An Intrepid. Perfect for me to just run around in. Good on gas and all that. I am also considering a Blazer that another friend has. I know it is a gas guzzler and all. But it is cute. Multi-hued blue. Great stereo. Fun. I do not know why, but every time I get behind the wheel of a big SUV with a good stereo, I just crank it up, and want to go. Sometimes, I think about just driving and driving, and never coming back. Maybe someday I will. Probably not. I couldn't leave my kids. But stick my kids in the back, and I would probably just drive forever. Until I ran out of road. Or money. Or both. Maybe someday. Maybe soon. That is the main reason I need to just break down and go get my drivers license. So when I am ready, I can just go. I will just go. One day, I will just disappear. No one will know where I went. Hell, I do not know where I am going. I just know I have to go. I have to. Because I am just dying here. A little bit more everyday. I am losing myself, I am losing my soul. But if I get away soon, there might just be enough of me left, to recover. Maybe. The hubby got me an MP3 player tonight. A sony walkman violet. Who would have known he remembered that purple was my favorite color? I do not know why he gave it to me. (Maybe as an early birthday gift? I don't know. He didn't say.) I have been asking for one for two years. But, I will not question it. No point trying to read into his motives. I just loaded that sucker up with all the songs I had stored on my computer, and am listening to it right now. (I am currently listening to Paradise By The Dashboard Lights by Meatloaf.) I just wish we could listen to music at work. But at least now I can start taking those walks at night like I have been saying I am going to do for months. (But walking alone at night is so boring I just couldn't make myself do it.) I got to talk to The Honey for a few minutes tonight online. We were just saying Goodnight when he all of a sudden had to go. Now. To use his word. We all know what that means. LOL. Poor baby. He is taking a lot of chances these days for a little bit of time with me. I love that man. Maybe one day, we won't have to hide. Maybe. But probably not. I miss him when he is home. We have to revert to email. And instant message. And sending messages through myspace. And short whispered I love yous on the phone while he hangs out in the bathroom. But he is willing to take those chances to please me. And that means more to me than I think he knows. I want to be in his arms. I want to be able to walk down the street holding his hand. And not have to worry who sees us. Maybe someday. But probably not. That's all. Goodnight.

If he didn't love me...

Okay, so I have to work tomorrow, well, today now. I really could use the cash, so that is good, but it sucks that I don't get the time off. I am one of those who wants to go in, put in my forty, and go the hell home. (Okay, I admit home is not where I really want to be these days, but anywhere but work is good.) Sunday afternoon, I will be going to the boss lady's house for a "Girls Only Bingo Gift Party". Apparently this is the day once every couple of months when she and her sisters get together, and use bingo as an excuse to get drunk, and share some laughs without any hubbies around. I have been invited. I am going. I know there are a lot of other things i should be doing with my Sunday afternoon/evening, but there is not much that I would rather do than just hang out with a friend and share some laughs. (Unless of course one of you has conceived the perfect plan to get The Honey to me, or me to him that is. In that case, I am all ears, and boss lady can go hang.) But since that is unlikely to happen any time in the near future, I will go play bingo, get nicely drunk, and laugh myself silly with these women. I seem to have hit a brick wall in the weight loss department. It could be that my body is just adjusting to my new routine, and has only temporarily plateaued. Or it may have something to do with the Red Hot Beef and Bean Chimichanga I am still licking from the tips of my fingers. It is almost that time of the month, ugh, and I was just craving it like mad. Never deny yourself something you REALLY want, that is my theory of how to be happy in this life. Somehow tonight it doesn't seem to be working, because all I feel right now, is lonely and bloated. I deny myself things I want all the time. I do it for multiple reasons. I do it because what I want may hurt someone else. I do it because I think what other people need or want is more important than what I need or want. I do it because i do not feel worthy of actually being happy. What an epiphany you may be thinking. Not really. I have known this about myself for a very long time. Problem is, I can not seem to change that way of thinking. Take these recent examples of my fucked up mind at work to understand how my thought process betrays me at every turn. How one silly little thing sends me into a tail spin. Example one: The first time the boss lady and i went out after work, we both got pretty bombed. I thought we had a great time, and at one point during the night, she invited me to her house for a party. The next day, when we were at work, she did not mention the party. The next day when she had said the party was to be starting, I did not call her to come get me like she had told me to do, because my evil self-flagellating twin started itching in the back of my brain saying things like "she only invited you because she was drunk, and was trying to be kind." (Just for the record, that voice inside my head that likes to beat me up, and tear me up, sounds an awful lot like my mother.) {And for those of you who do not understand, NO, I do not actually hear voices. I am a little off, with a twist to the left, but I am not actually insane.} The second example I will use is a lot harder to admit to. Because I have doubted myself for so very long, I also doubt people who say that they care about me. Example Two: The Honey was talking to me, he was sick, sore, and sleepy. He told me he loved me, and that he just needed to get some more sleep. He then spent another twenty minutes talking to me. During that time, he probably said "I Love You" ten times. He made me laugh with his silly little jokes, and even made himself cough harder doing the "Disco Daddy" voice to make me smile. Then he said goodbye with another I love you, and an I miss you thrown in for good measure. For most people, this would have been a confirmation of love right? The fact that despite being sick, sore and sleepy, he took the time to spend with me, making me laugh, and constantly reassuring me of his feelings for me. I should have been on cloud nine. Ha, my mind does not allow that kind of happiness. After we hung up, I spent the next half hour crying, missing him, and wondering what I had done or said that caused him to not want to talk to me for his usual one to two hours. My mind kept replaying the call over and over trying to find something I had done wrong. How is that for fucked up thought process? The worst part s that I don't really doubt his love. Not for a minute. If he didn't love me he wouldn't waste all his time with me. He certainly wouldn't tell me to call and wake him up at anytime day or night that i want to talk to him, and then actually wake up and talk when I do call him at all hours of the day and night. If he didn't love me, he would certainly not put up with my wild mood swings, and need for constant reassurance. If he didn't love me, he would not risk calling me from his living room. If he didn't love me, then why would he tell me he did, at least ten times a day. Because really, he gets nothing from this weird relationship other than a large phone bill, and my companionship. That's all, Goodnight.

To kiss him goodnight...

Okay, so I went out tonight. I went out with my boss, and a couple of guys from work. We had a good time, just sitting and singing and bull-shitting. It was a good time, that is until I got home. As soon as I walked in the door it started. The bitching. I didn't stop to get the hubby any food on the way home. I didn't stop because I was not driving and it was after three in the morning, and my boss didn't want to stop. But of course, that is all my fault. Just like it is all my fault that the house is a mess. Nevermind the fact that I am hardly ever home. It is also my fault that the laundry is not done. It is my fault that I do not come home straight from working eight hours a day and cook him a meal. It is my fault that I do not run him a bath. It is my fault that I do not rub his back. It is my fault that I no longer cater to his every whim. I used to do all those things, back when I loved him. I don't love him anymore. I do not want to do things for him. He is pissed because after the bar closed, we all went out to breakfast. He is pissed because he couldn't get drunk tonight. He is pissed that I do not love him. He is pissed because The Honey called me at seven in the morning, and I crawled out of bed to talk with him. He is pissed because he thought The Honey had quit calling. In fact, he deleted The Honey's numbers from our phone. He is pissed that he saw it show up again. I am pissed that he is pissed. I am pissed that I acted like an ass to The Honey tonight. I am pissed that instead of telling him that I love him, and that I miss him, I was cold and bitchy towards him. I was having a bad night. It is not his fault. But it was made all the worse when I found out that he was headed home. I was jealous, and bitter, and I am sorry. I know I have no right to feel that way. I can stake no claim to The Honey. But the thought of him, laying next to anyone but me hurts. It brings out a side of me that is not pretty. It brings out an angry, sad, hurt me. I want him. I want him to be mine. I want him to be mine alone. I do not want to have to share him. I do not want him in the arms of anyone else. I do not want his lips on someone else. I am so jealous of her. It is crazy, I know. I am jealous because she gets to hold him. I am jealous that she gets to look at him when she talks to him. I am jealous that she gets to cook his meals. I am jealous that she gets to wash his clothes. I am jealous that she gets to do all those silly little things that would make his life so much easier. I want to do all that for him. I am jealous that she gets to rub his aching muscles. I am jealous that she gets to kiss all his sore spots. I am jealous that she gets to take care of him while he is sick. I am jealous that she gets to do his grocery shopping, and feed his dog, and raise his child. I am jealous that when he went to sleep tonight she got to say goodnight to him. I am jealous that she gets to be there for him. I am jealous that she gets to hold his hand. I am jealous that she gets to make love to him. I am jealous that she gets to watch him sleep, hear him breathe, feel his heat. I am jealous that he still loves her. I am angry that she has what I want most in this world, and can not have. I am angry at myself for feeling this way. I am angry that I cried tonight when I got his message that said he was going home, and I knew that I may not hear from him for awhile. I am angry that I allowed myself the luxury of those tears. I never wanted to feel this way. I never wanted to want what I can never have as mine. I never wanted to fall head over heels, crazy in love with this man, who owns my soul. I never wanted to need anyone. I need him. His voice is like air to me. I need it just to make it through the day. I want to do everything for him, I want to be everything to him. I want to kiss him goodnight every night, and kiss him good morning every morning. I want to be in his arms in the time in between. I want to feel his heart beat. I want to taste his skin. I want to be so close to him that you can not tell where I end, and he begins. I want him. I love him. I miss him. I need him. I Love You, Tommy. I wish I knew the words that would convey the depth of my love. I wish I knew the words that would say all that I feel. I do not know them. I do not know that they exist. That is all, Goodnight.

Invisible...

Okay, so I was thinking this morning, how sad my relationship with the hubby has become. We just barely tolerate each other these days, and sometimes it is not even that good. I remember back when we first met. I remember falling in love. I remember what it felt like to be loved by him. Back then, he made such effort to let me know how he felt. Back then he wrote me poetry, and sang me love songs. Back then my needs came first to him. Back then I was special. Back then I was beautiful. Back then I was important. Back then, the things I said mattered. Now, we only talk about the trivial things. (If at all.) I haven't gotten a poem since the day of our wedding. He doesn't sing me songs anymore. I am not special. I am no longer beautiful. I am not important. He still says "I love you", but now it is just habit. My sister-in-law Tish told me that when he shows up at her and Lyle's house after a binge, he always talks about me with such love. She says he still gets a far away look in his eyes. But here at home, he just looks right through me, as though I am invisible. I have been invisible for far too long. And I finally found someone who sees me. I finally found someone who makes me special. Someone who makes me important. Someone to whom the things I say matter. It is sad though. Sad that things can't be different. Sad that I lost one man I loved. Sad that I can't have the one I love now. Sad that no matter how things turn out, I am the one getting hurt in the end. Sad that every time I love, I still end up all alone. I so wish that things were different. I wish that Tommy and I were free to be exactly who and where we want to be. But that is not possible. So, I will remain alone. I will cry myself to sleep at night, laying next to a man I used to love, longing for the one that I can never have. Yeah, I know. I am pathetic, you are right. But mostly I am a good person. And if I wish hard enough, if I try hard enough. Maybe then one day. Maybe. I will get that little bit of happiness that I so desperately seek. That I so desperately need. Maybe someone will see me. Maybe I won't be invisible anymore. That's all, Bye.

For you...

A personal message to My Honey...

Okay, so I just wanted to thank you Tommy, for what you did for me today. And I love you too. That's all, Goodnight.

Cleopatra and carrot cake...

Okay, so all told today was a pretty good day. It started well because I actually got six hours of uninterrupted sleep. I think that may be a record for the last few months. I got online after getting Corey off to school, answered a few emails, and blogged a bit. Then I called The Honey. He is so incredibly sweet. No matter how little sleep he has had when I call, he never gets upset with me. Just talks sweetly to me and says all the things I love hearing from him. We didn't talk for long, about ten minutes, but it always starts my day off with a smile when I hear his voice. I listened to some music, and danced in my kitchen a bit, then out the door to Toni's I went. The hubby told me last night that my son Jamie had a football game tonight. I got myself all ready to go to work today, and at the last possible moment, decided to play hooky tonight to go to his game. I am so very, very glad I did. I had a wonderful time. We got there a little late because we had to go get Corey from school, but we got there in time to watch him play. He was so proud. And I was so proud of him. They tied again. They only played two quarters, instead of a whole game. They did that because the opposing team doesn't have enough seventh or eighth graders to play only one grade at a time. And they had a seventh grade game, and an eighth grade game scheduled for tonight. The same kids playing in both games. Poor kids had to play six quarters. As The Honey said, they usually don't play double header football games, so those poor kids were exhausted. We stayed to cheer them on. (It is okay to cheer for the opposing team as long as they are being great sports like that.) The opposing team won, and good for them. (Of course they had one kid who the scouts should already be watching.) Jamie had to stay down on the sidelines after his game, team unity and all. I sat and watched him joke and rough house with his buddies. I watched him throw a pretty spiral. I watched him. And I thought how much I miss him, and how much happier he is now, than he had been for a long time. I did the right thing for my son. I am not a failure. Having kept him home to make me happy, that would have been my failure as a mother. I just hope that someday soon I can get my life straightened out, so that he, I and the girls can be together again. I watched him playing with Kylie. Tickling her, and picking her up. Hugging her, and kissing her unashamed in front of all his friends. He even kissed and hugged me without thinking twice about it. What an amazing boy I have. I have decided not to take the day off for my birthday at work. Instead I will take the extra eight hours worth of pay, and use it to pay my cell phone bill. Well, at least part of it. I am going to call the company and see if I can change my plan. I just do not get enough anytime minutes, and I am tired of being offered money from The Honey. I wish he would understand that all I want from him is his love and his time. Both of which he provides in abundance. I spoke with my Grandmother tonight. I miss that woman. Perhaps I will take a trip to California before the year is through, just to spend a few days soaking her in. She is getting old. I finally get that. I used to think that it was okay if I did not talk with her very often. She would always be there tomorrow. But talking with her tonight, I realize that she doesn't have as many tomorrows left as I would like. My grandmother has always been one of my best friends. I can talk to her about anything. She never judges me, at least not harshly. She has saved my ass more than once. If I were to call her today, and got completely honest with her about what is going on in my life, she would send me money to make my escape. I will not get that honest. She deserves to at least think that I am okay. She deserves a little bit of peace. I wish I had made it back to see my Grandfather before he passed away. He was sick for a long time. Alzheimer's. I tried to help my Grandmother from a distance. I sent her literature. I put her in touch with home health care. It was all too little, too late. I know she misses him terribly. I didn't even make his funeral. What the hell kind of Granddaughter am I? That man adored me. He married my Grandmother when I was very young. I never knew my real Grandpa, and he accepted all of us kids as his. But I was always a favorite. I used to sit and listen to him talk about the war in Korea. No one else did. I would look with him through old photo albums, and listen to stories about when he was young and worked as a gaffer for the movie studios. He told me funny stories about Elvis (who he knew). He showed me pictures taken on the sets of some of the movies he worked on. My favorite was always a picture of Elizabeth Taylor on the set of Cleopatra. When he looked at that picture, his face would get young again, just for a minute. I remember when I was very young, maybe five or six. I was very sick, and I remember that he sat next to my bed all night. He put cool washrags on my head. He crushed baby aspirins between two spoons, and fed them to me covered in Hershey's syrup, because I could not stand the taste. I remember waking up, and thinking he was asleep, and him bolting upright because the sound of my breathing changed with my wakening. He was a great man. I remember his limp. He was injured in Korea, and one leg was substantially shorter than the other after the reconstruction. The VA never did get his special shoes quite right. I remember him giving my Grandmother and myself anything we ever wanted. Sparing no expense on our happiness. When I was very stupid and ended up in Texas alone at the age of seventeen, it was my Grandfather who insisted that I be put on the very next flight home to California. Home to him. The day I arrived, he cooked his famous carrot cake while my Grandmother came to pick me up from the airport. It was always my favorite. He even remembered to save the bowl from the homemade frosting. I always loved to use my fingers to clean every last taste out of the bowl. We should have seen the Alzheimer's coming. He had been getting more and more forgetful through the years. He forgot simple things. But I guess in my self-centeredness, I thought that as long as he always remembered what was important about me, that he was fine. The last time I spoke with him, he didn't know who I was. About ten minutes into our conversation, it hit him. And he told me that he loved me. I hope he really understood how much I loved him, and how very, very dear to me he was. He is the man I am always trying to find. He is the man I hope to someday have in my life forever. I want a man just like my Grandpa Joe. One who loves me unconditionally, and despite all my many flaws of character. He, so far, is the only one who ever has. I miss him. That's all, Goodnight.

A good man...

Okay, so all these changes in the weather, I think, are making me sick. I woke up yesterday with a sore throat and a headache. Today, I have the added joy of a stuffy nose and an earache. And I have a yucky cough too. The Honey will tell me it is due to the fact that I never sleep. That I am wearing myself out. But, I will have you know that I just woke up from sleeping for six hours. All in a row. That is two days worth of sleep. I will say that my mind feels a bit less foggy today than it has been in a long time. Maybe I should really see my doctor, and get something to help me sleep a bit more regularly. I need to see him anyway, about these bruises I keep getting from out of nowhere. I am beginning to look like someone beats me up on a regular basis. I started taking extra iron, figuring it was just from not eating very well lately. That is not working. At least not yet. I woke up this morning with a huge new bruise on my thigh. I am pretty sure I know what caused that one though. The hubby thinks of tickling me as foreplay. He thought he might get some loving last night. I went to sleep. I am glad it is not shorts weather today though. Because where he grabbed me, I now have a huge purple bruise. Oh well. I will call my Doc sometime this week. How weird is it, that I do not see a GP for all my medical needs? I actually will only see my OB-GYN. Of course, when I call him, he will bitch at me about being late for my pap-smear and for refusing that mammogram. That is why I keep putting off an office visit with him. He will also tell me that I am not sleeping enough, and bitch at me about losing so much weight so fast, and not getting in to see why. I know why. Stress. Well, stress combined with the fact that I am finally starting to reclaim my self worth. I need to add some exercise to the weight loss though. And he will bitch at me about that too. It is so funny. I remember the first time I met my Doc. I had realized I was pregnant, and needed to find a new doctor as I simply refused to go back to the man that left me in full blown labour for over eighteen and a half hours without even bothering to check why I would only dilate to a two. That was the least pleasant experience of my life. (Physically anyway.) (Well, that and the fact that his nurse threatened to gag me if I didn't quit screaming and scaring the other women who were in labour. It really wasn't my fault. I had all back labour, and no drugs, and off the chart contractions to which they added pitocin. Assholes.) So, my sister recommended her OB-Gyn. I made the appointment, and waited for it. I then slipped and fell down a flight of stairs about two days later. (The stairs were metal, and it had been raining, coupled with the fact that I am a klutz.) I laughed it off, but about two hours later I had a lot of pain in my abdomen. I was scared. I had already gone through a miscarriage, and did not want to deal with the feelings of sadness and failure that another would bring. I wanted this new baby, so I took myself up to the Emergency Room to see what was going on. I was already convinced that I was going to lose this baby as well. They did a pelvic and confirmed my pregnancy. (I could have confirmed it for them by puking on one of them. Morning sickness starts for me the day after conception.) They told me everything looked okay, but asked if I wanted to go ahead and get an ultrasound while I was there. I said yes, and so they called in the tech. She came in wearing her pajamas, as it was about three in the morning. As she started the ultra sound, she turned the screen away from me, so that I could not watch. I was convinced that something terrible was happening. She claimed that she was getting glare from the lights. The ER doctor talked with me afterwards, and told me that everything looked good, but the pain I was feeling was due to the scar tissue on my uterus being stretched quickly. He said that my uterus was growing very rapidly, and I should take some Tylenol, get some rest, and see my Ob-Gyn within three days. The next morning I called and got my appointment moved up. That same day, the hubby decided he didn't want another child, and disappeared. (He went to Montana for about a week and a half, but that is a whole other story.) The day after that, I went to my first appointment, scared and alone. I was still convinced that the tech had been hiding something from me during my ultrasound, and was trying to prepare myself for some very bad news. I got weighed, and a nurse checked all my vitals. And I sat, and sat, and sat. Eventually a nurse came back, followed by a man with the kindest looking eyes I had ever seen. He introduced himself to me, and asked all the pre-exam questions that doctors ask. He performed a pelvic, and I was surprised at how very gentle he was. (Trust me, not all Ob-Gyns are gentle.) We moved rooms, and I lay back so we could do an ultrasound. He too, turned the monitor away from my field of vision. He stared asking me questions. Lots of unimportant stuff, like if I worked, where I had gone to school, etc. He then slipped among all the banal chit chat the most important and life changing question I have ever been asked. "Do twins run in your family?" I told him that I have fraternal twin half-brothers. I don't know why I didn't pick up on what he was trying to tell me. He told me that I could now tell people yes when asked that question. As it hit me what he was saying, he turned the screen so that I could see. He pointed to two tiny black spots. They were about the size of grains of rice he said. My babies. My twins. I started crying. I couldn't stop the tears. He asked if they were happy tears, or sad tears. I told him I wasn't sure. I confessed that the hubby had disappeared at the thought of one more child, and that I wasn't sure if he would ever come back with two more on the way. I told him that I was working sixty plus hours a week, and still, I didn't know how I would ever be able to afford two more babies. And then I looked again, at the image of those two tiny dots on the screen, and I told him I wanted my babies. He put his arms around me, and let me cry. He told me that we would be a team, and we would make sure that I got my babies. I went home, still feeling the shock. I told my father in-law who promptly told me to have an abortion, quickly. (He later very much regretted saying that, and cried many bitter tears that he had ever suggested such a thing.) I called the hubby back, as he had called from Montana to see what the doctor had said. I told him that he could stay in Montana, because I was going to keep my babies. (He did return about a week later. He said he wanted to come back as soon as he had gotten there, but as he had taken his brother to pack for a move back to Omaha, he had to stay long enough to finish.) Over the next months, I saw my Doc regularly. He always had a smile for me, and asked how "OUR" babies were doing. He had a private talk with the hubby, on his first visit with me to the Doc. (I still do not know what they talked about, but I know that I never had another appointment that the hubby missed.) I was in and out of the hospital numerous times, for pre-term labour, dehydration, and various other minor complaints, which would always lead to a minimum over night stay. My Doc would always come and check on me. It may have been three in the morning by the time he finally made a visit, but he always did. My doctor rescheduled his family vacation that year, as he said he was unwilling to let anyone else deliver his twins in his absence. When we lost our sweet Casey, my doctor was shattered. He came to her funeral, he cried while holding my hand. He wrote me an untold number of prescriptions, for depression, to help me sleep, for anything he thought might help make it easier on me. I never used them, but I accepted them with the knowledge that he was just trying to help. He would call occasionally, while it was still fresh, just to check on me. If he saw me in a store, he would unabashedly wrap me into a hug and cry some more for my loss. He is a good man. When I found out I was pregnant with my sweet Kylie, he was thrilled. He forced me to come to far too many appointments, just to be sure that nothing was going wrong. He checked me into the hospital for every little thing. He made me do a huge number of ultra sounds, and non-stress tests, all in an effort to comfort myself, and his self, that this time everything would be okay. He joked that he would not perform my tubal ligation until I had a baby for him. (He claims that I make the most beautiful girls ever born. And his wife refused to have any more after they had three sons.) The day Kylie was born, he made that joke again, as I was being put under for him to tie my tubes. I groggily informed him, that as I would be unconscious, I would not know if he actually did the procedure or not, but that if I had another child, he would pay for it from conception through a minimum of four years of college. He told me we had a deal. I am quite sure he did the surgery. (Though he still to this day refuses to tell me for sure.) He still hugs me when ever he sees me out in the "real" world. He still has pictures of my daughters on the wall in his office. I really like that man. I think I will call, and go in and get that pap smear after all. That's all, Bye.

I am beautiful, to him...

Okay, so I spent all day doing laundry at Toni's house today. I did it there because I haven't yet torn apart my washing machine to see if I can fix it. Originally, I thought maybe it had thrown a bearing or something, but I tried running it empty to get a better feel for exactly what is wrong with it. When it is empty, it spins. Add clothes, no spinning. So my best "UN educated" guess is that it has something to do with the belt. I will get up early tomorrow (Today now, I guess.) and call an appliance repair shop. I will use what ever feminine charms I posses to convince who ever answers the phone to talk me through what I need to do to fix it. Wish me luck. I just can not afford to replace it right now. In the last three weeks, I have had to replace my refrigerator, and my microwave. I really do not know what can go wrong next. This whole shit hole I call my home could collapse, but hell that might be a blessing. And if I do not start making repairs pretty soon, it just may. I got to talk to The Honey today. When he is on nights it gets a little harder on us, but he is willing to forgo sleep to spend time with me. We have such a good time when we talk. That man makes me laugh like no other. I swear my day is not complete anymore with out one of his silly little jokes, a funny voice (Talk to me Disco Daddy!!!), or some funny story that makes me laugh until I cry and my sides hurt. Once we get to laughing, it seems to take forever to stop. His laugh gets me laughing harder, and mine appears to have the same effect on him. And the mere mention of pineapples, and we are off to the races. (Inside joke. No, I will NOT share it with you all.) I need that man like I need air. He fills me up, and makes me strong. He carries around all the pieces of my broken heart, and each day he puts one more piece of that fucked up puzzle back together for me. I thank him for that. I am grateful for his love. My dear friend Paula shared with me tonight her own story of "forbidden love". Why is it, that when you finally find the man of your dreams, they already belong to someone else? It just doesn't seem fair somehow. But, I digress. I just spent a couple of hours playing a game with Paula called Literati. It is very much like Scrabble and we had a fun time. But, she had to get to sleep. I really need to find some other "online" friends (Paula and I speak most often online, but she lives less than a block away...how silly is that?) that have my strange schedule, so that I do not sit here all alone all night. I get very lonely sometimes. Something nice happened to me tonight though. I went to our local Super Wal-Mart with Toni tonight. I never bothered to get dressed today, so when we went to the store, I was still in my PJs. (It is not like I was running around half naked. Like I said, I wear PJ pants and tank tops.) Toni and I split up to get our shopping done more quickly, since everything she needed was on grocery side, and mine was in pets and pharmacy. When I got done with my shopping, I went looking for Toni. As I was walking down the aisle, I passed two young men, they couldn't have been more than twenty five. As I walked passed, one of them said hello to me. I smiled and said hi. As I continued to walk past him, he turned to watch me walk away and said, "Damn baby, you're looking mighty fine tonight." I was so flattered. It has been awhile since I have had that effect on a man. And it made this old lady feel pretty good. Especially considering that my hair was thrown up in a very messy bun, I had on only mascara, and I was in my jammies. I just laughed and kept on walking. But I will hold on to that the next time I look in the mirror and start to berate myself for not losing another two pounds that day, or having a flat spot on my nose, or crooked ears, or any of the other flaws I see when ever I face myself. I will hold on to that comment, and the comment of My Sweet, Sweet Honey, who told me today that I am beautiful, to him. That's all, Goodnight.

New jammies and a doll of a Doc...

Okay, so I bought myself some new jammies today. I actually bought them for a little "mini-vacation" I was half ass planning on. It now looks as if this is not going to happen. That is okay. I am used to it. I never get the things I want the most. You would think by this point that I would quit getting my hopes up. But ever the optimist, (Or fool, depending on how you choose to look at it!) and all. I didn't get anything special. I just got what I am most comfortable in. Satiny jammie pants, and tank tops and t-shirts. Great comfy clothes for just hanging out and talking. That is what I was looking forward to the most. Just hanging out and talking with my best friend. Anyway, today didn't go quite as planned. I did go and get my contacts, at least my first pair. I have to go back next weekend, and have my eyes checked again before the Doc will write the script for me. By the way, my Doc was an absolute doll. He is cute as hell, and made me laugh. I think the people out in the waiting area thought we were nuts in there, just giggling away, the both of us. The exam took a lot longer than I had expected. By the time we got out of there, Toni and I had to run to Omaha to get smokes before the store closed. While we were there, the hubby started calling. He wanted me to stop and get toilet paper, money orders for a few bills, and Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner. Never mind the fact that I have stopped and brought home dinner every night this week, and the groceries in the house are going to start going bad. I just did it rather than argue about it. By the time I made it home it was after eight. Toni was worn out, and I just wanted to eat and have a drink. I slipped into my new jammies, and here I sit, having really accomplished nothing today. I will finish off this bottle before I get to sleep tonight. I will cry myself to sleep again tonight, thinking about how I have completely screwed up my life. I will toss and turn worrying about how my washing machine broke down this afternoon. ( I am sure it threw a bearing, and I need to find a repair manual to see if I can fix it. "Maybe here online", I think with a hopeful gleam in my eye.) I need to get up early tomorrow, I need to take a couple of loads of clothes to Toni's house so that we all don't end up walking around naked all week. I refuse to give up. I refuse to give up. I refuse to give up. That's all, Goodnight.

Pain...

I try not to steal from other people here on my blog, but this song, well it reads like a story of my life. So here are the lyrics for the song "Pain" by Three Days Grace. I thank them for putting into words what I could not.


Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

You're sick of feeling numb
You're not the only one
I'll take you by the hand
And I'll show you a world that you can understand
This life is filled with hurt
When happiness doesn't work
Trust me and take my hand
When the lights go out you will understand

Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

Anger and agony
Are better than misery
Trust me I've got a plan
When the lights go off you will understand

Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing
Rather feel pain

I know (I know I know I know I know)
That you're wounded
You know (You know you know you know you know)
That I'm here to save you
You know (You know you know you know you know)
I'm always here for you
I know (I know I know I know I know)
That you'll thank me later

Pain, without love
Pain, can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Rather feel pain than nothing at all
Rather feel pain

That's all, Bye.

The anatomy of...

I lay there. Feigning sleep. My heart is racing. My breathing alternating between rapid sharp intakes of breath, to forgetting to breathe at all. I am shaking. Quivering. I feel his hands on the side of my face. Caressing me gently. His hands stroking my hair. Soft kisses on my brow. His hands move. Fumbling his way underneath my top. He takes my breast in his hand. He slowly circles my nipple with his finger. He raises my shirt higher. And now it is his mouth, warm and wet. Licking and sucking. His hands move down. He rubs my thighs. His hands seeking the warmest places of me. He slides his hand down my pants. His fingers parting me, spreading me open to him. He strokes my clit. He wets his finger in his mouth, tasting me. He forces his finger inside of me. In and out. Slowly first, and then faster and faster, as he gets more and more excited. I feel him starting to masturbate. I remind myself to breathe. It hurts. What he is doing to me. He forces my pants lower, so that he can watch as he fingers me. He jacks off faster, the end is near. I feel him cum. He cums on my stomach. It is warm, and wet, and scares me. I lay there. Feigning sleep. A silent tear rolls down my cheek. And that, is the anatomy of the molestation of an eleven year old girl. That's all.

A little while longer...

Okay, so yesterday was pretty good all told. I got to talk to The Honey for about two hours, and that always makes for a good day. I made a mistake at one point though, and mentioned that although it is only mid-month, I am probably out of anytime minutes on my cell phone. (When he is working the night shift, we use my anytime minutes as opposed to the free nights and weekends we use when he works his normal shift.) He actually offered to send me money to pay the bill. What the fuck was he thinking? Okay, I know that you probably think it was sweet. And I guess it really is, but somehow having him pay the bill on the cell phone that my hubby bought for me would just make me feel, well, whorish. Toni tells me I am being ridiculous, and that it is just that he loves me and wants to help me, but something about the thought of taking money from him kinda freaks me out, so I just won't do it. Gifts, flowers, those things are fine, but any money he sends will only be donated in his name to my local animal shelter. (Sorry, that is just how it is baby.) We got off work a little bit early last night, I went to Toni's and hung out for a little while. I miss Toni. Just spending time alone with her talking. We usually have a lot of time together each day, but we are usually going somewhere, doing something, not just hanging out being us. So last night was good. She called and got me an appointment with the optometrist for later today. I am finally going to get those contacts I have been wanting. That is of course, if my eyes haven't gotten beyond the limits of what contacts can fix. I swear I am completely blind without my glasses. That is why my glasses are always crooked. I sleep in them a lot. I hate the feeling of waking up, and not being able to see. It freaks me out sometimes to wake up and not know where I really am, and not be able to see. After a few seconds, when I get awake enough to realize I am in my own bed, then I am fine, but the few seconds of fear is just not worth it. I think Toni and I will make a day out of it. We will touch up my dark roots, go get me contacts, and then sit in her house laughing, talking, and giving ourselves manicures and pedicures. It has been awhile since we have just had a girls day. Maybe I will do a whole makeover on her. I wish she would start caring more about herself. She has been letting herself go the last few years. See, she gave up on men and herself when she finally had to let go of her one true love, Robert. She finally gave him up, when his drinking got so bad that she just couldn't live with him anymore. My relationship with Tommy has made her think of him more and more lately. (Robert is her sweet, kind hearted former Marine who makes her feel like he hung the moon just for her, just like my sweet Tommy.) She called his family just a few weeks back, to see how he is doing. The truth is, that he is not doing well. He has chosen the life of a street drunk. He lives in a local park in Omaha now. I think that finding all that out has made her hurt, alot. He called her about two days later. He had gotten her number from his family. He told her that he loves her beyond words. He told her that the booze is beating him up, and asked her to come and get him. She is a stronger woman than I could ever be, because she told him that as much as she loves and misses him, she will not be with him until and unless he is sober for at least six months. Where does she find that kind of strength? I would not have been able to do that. I would have gone immediately and gotten My Honey. I see her loneliness sometimes. I see the pain in her heart when she talks about him. I hope I am never put in a position like that, I do not have that kind of strength of character. I admire her for that. I just hope that she doesn't just fade away completely, from the longing in her heart. I feel myself fading like that sometimes these days. It is not a good feeling. That feeling where your love is so deep, and so all consuming that you lose sight of other important things in your life. Maybe I will see if she will let me buy her a nice new outfit, and take her out for a night on the town. I know she will never replace Robert, but maybe she can meet someone who will at least help fill the void a little bit. My dear friend Paula read the little bit of my blog that I have posted on my myspace page yesterday. She was shocked I think. I think I am shocking a lot of people these days. People who have known me for years are just starting to get a real glimpse inside my fucked up head, and it frightens them. What I do not get, is how they could have watched me faking it all for so long, and never called me on it. How they could watch me smiling and not see the scream just below the surface. I started trying to justify my actions, and feelings to Paula. She wouldn't let me. I adore that woman. She said she understands more than I realize. That she has been there, done that, and didn't even get a t-shirt. I usually do not defend my actions to anyone, but what she thinks of me is truly important to me. She is a sister-of-my-heart. So her opinion of me matters. She says her love and respect for me have not been diminished in the slightest bit, but that she will pray for me to find a place of peace, where my mind can rest easy, and I can find contentment in my soul. I pray for that as well. No one should have to live feeling all the time like they are on the edge of reason, and are falling. Yet that is how I have lived for so long, I am not sure I know how to live any other way. I do everything in my life with such passion. I love fiercely, I hate with the same ferocity. I feel deeply. And it wears me out. You have no idea what I would give for two or three days of rest from this roller coaster of emotion I ride daily. Hopefully, if things work out, I will get that soon. Just a few days of peace, contentment, joy. If it happens, I will lock myself away from the rest of the world, someplace safe, and just be able to be me for a change. And that will have to be enough to sustain me. Enough to keep me going for a little while longer. So I can continue to smile, and stuff the scream. That is all, Bye.

Er...

Okay, so I just got home from work. When I got off work at around midnight, I had to go to the casino to cash my check. After that, I had to stop and pick up milk, and get some food from Arby's. My usual Thursday night routine. I am a little pissed. We were supposed to be working final pack tonight. At least that is what I was told last night. So when I got ready for work, I put on my new favorite pair of jeans. They are now covered in gravy. The same gravy that would not wash out of my brand new Eeyore hoodie. If this shit doesn't wash out of my jeans, I just may scream. The hubby once again got absolutely nothing accomplished today, so I have to stay up for the next few hours doing laundry, or go to work naked tomorrow. I wash my laundry every night. I usually leave them in the dryer, when I get ready for work the next morning. I guess it is my fault. I am usually in a hurry to be gone, and so I do not get them out and fold and put them away. But what I will never understand, is why this man, who does nothing all day long, can not even do that much for me. I work at least eight hours a day, five or six days a week to pay the fucking bills. I do all the cleaning (admittedly I have let it go as of late), all the grocery shopping, all the bill paying, all the doctors appointments, dentist appointments, orthodontist appointments, school functions, parent teacher conferences, church functions, etc. etc. etc. Why is it too much for me to ask that he fold and put away my clean clothes? Why do I come home every night, and find them strewn all over the fucking house, so that I have to stay up and do laundry at two in the morning? Why do I have to be the one to crawl out of bed, usually within two hours of finally crawling in bed, to get my daughter ready for school in the mornings? Why do I have to be the one who does absolutely everything that ever needs done. I swear, if I was single, at least I would have one less person to clean up after. One less mouth to feed. One less argument everyday. If my sister doesn't cave, and go back to her hubby (which sad to say is what probably will happen), I will try and convince her to move with me. I want to move far away. Far away from all the headache, and all the heartache. Florida is still in my mind. I want sun. I want sea. I want freedom. I want to feel like me again. Over the years I have lost myself. I got married far too young, to someone who never really loved me. He thought he did at the time, I am sure. But, the booze will always win. I will always come in second. I am so tired of second. Saddest part of all, is I am choosing second place again. What the fuck is so wrong with me, that I do not deserve first for a change? What did I ever do that was so bad that I do not deserve to be loved the way I want to be loved? I guess I have finally just accepted the fact that I will never get the fairytale. But what was so wrong with wanting it? Why is it that every time I reach for something that I really, desperately want, I just get slapped back into reality and told no? Ugh. Sorry for the trip down self pity lane. It has just been one of those days. I guess I am just thinking too much. I shouldn't do that. It never ends well. I am tired, just worn the fuck out. I am sad today, and I do not really know why. I am feeling guilty a bit, about the things I am doing these days. I am smoking too much. I am drinking too often. I am ignoring some of my core values, in order to be happy. I am just a little bit fucked up and confused right now. I will be better tomorrow I am sure. But for tonight, I will wallow in my self pity, and my guilt. Tomorrow, I will call My Honey, and I will feel better. He does that for me. He makes me feel better, warmer, safer, saner, more confident, prettier, sexier, smarter, funnier. He makes me happy. And that is all I need. He is all I need to be okay for a little while longer. And that is enough for now. That's all, Goodnight.

Judge not...

Okay, so you may have noticed, or not, that I changed my profile picture. The new one is a whole lot more current, having been taken in the last two weeks. Yes, I know I am still very fat. But I am still a work in progress damn it. If I actually told you how much weight I have lost in the last two and a half months, you would be shocked. And for the record, I have lost four more pounds since I took that picture. (Yeah for me!) I kind of plateaued for awhile, and I was getting very angry with myself. I do not accept failure in myself, and that was a hard one to take. So, the new loss is making me very happy. Moving on, things around here are all crazy as usual. I just can not believe the supreme stupidity of some people sometimes. I had a friend named Virginia, I have written about her before, but not by name. Well, Tuesday morning out of the blue, she calls me and asks if I would come over to chat with her for awhile. It was pretty early, so everyone here was still sleeping, Toni was asleep, and The Honey was working. So, having nothing better to do, I went over for some coffee and conversation. She talked to me about her upcoming wedding. She talked with me about our jobs, and our kids. And then, though I do not quite remember how the subject came up, she was talking to me about the fact that she once had an affair with a married man. Now, I am not one to judge. I have cheated on my husband. (Though I felt so guilty that I told him about it afterwards.) I also have had my share of flings with married men in the past, including one that lasted for over a year. People get married for many different reasons. People stay in bad marriages for even more varied reasons. So, when she confessed this to me, rather than judge her, I was just curious as to who the man was, and if I knew him. (It is not gossip if it is just a secret between two friends.) When I asked her these questions, she responded by telling me that she couldn't answer them. WOW! I was dumb struck. Obviously that meant it was someone I knew personally. My mind started spinning with the possibilities. I tried to think of all the men that she and I both knew, and jumped immediately to my husband. Now, at this point, if she wants my husband, she can have him. But, during the time that she had this affair, I was still beating my head against brick walls attempting to repair my damaged marriage. If I found out that she had fucked my husband back then, I think I would have ended up in jail. In fact I am certain of it. Virginia is not some wimpy little girl, but I have no doubt in my mind that I would be able to beat her half to death under the right circumstances, and finding that out would be one of those circumstances. She quickly assured me that it was not Jimmy that she slept with. At that point I was just confused. All the men that we both know are single. I couldn't think of another married friend we have in common. And then it hit me. There was one man. One. My sister's husband. I asked her outright if that was who she meant. She shook her head yes. She then proceeded to tell me how she had fallen for him, how he had told her that he loved her, and that he was going to get a divorce from my sis so that he could be with her. That lying piece of shit. And this woman I thought of as my friend. How could they? And why in the name of God would she tell me this? She asked me not to tell. "Are you fucking kidding me?", I thought to myself. I love many people in my life. I love my children first and foremost. I love my family and friends. And I love and am in love with Tommy. (Who doesn't quite fit into the family or the friend categories and so must have one all his own.) But on the list of people I would die for, my sister comes only behind my own children and her children. Everyone else in this world falls somewhere far behind her. I did not ask any questions, I only listened as she felt compelled to confess. I went home with a knot in my stomach. I now had some very important information, and I was not sure what to do with it. I knew this was not the first time he has cheated. But as my sister had been convinced that he was no longer doing those things, I felt I had to let her know. I know that many of you are thinking I should have kept my mouth shut. But, I have been where she is. I have been the last one to know, and it is not a good place. I could not let her go on thinking that everything was okay. I have watched her struggle too long to hold on to something that is obviously not worth having. If she knows, and continues to carry on with her relationship, that is her choice. But to not know, that is just not fair to her. So, I called her. And I told her. I also told her that it has apparently been over for a couple of months. That maybe he realized what he could lose, and chose to be with her. That maybe it was just another stupid mistake, and they could work through it. She confronted him that night. At first he denied it completely. And then he just got angry and said that it didn't last as long as she had claimed. He left, saying he was going to go confront her. He did not apologise. He did not stay and hold my crying sister. He did not reassure her that he still loved her, and had seen the errors of his ways, and come home to her and only her. She came to my house that night. I was at work, so she sat here with my husband, and cried, and drank, and cried some more. When I got home, I poured a drink, and drank with her. We went for a walk and cried together. We talked, and we ranted. She finally crawled into my bed, with me and my girls, and we all went to sleep. When I got up, she was already gone. She still has a life to live, and it must go on despite how she feels. All I can do is hope that things get better for her. And be here when she needs me. She made plans to just run away. To go somewhere and start fresh. When she does, I will probably go with her. We have both tried and failed to find our princes. I asked her, why we both settled for less than what we had always wanted? What is so broken inside of us, that we took less than what we deserve? She had no answer. I have no answer. But I am bound and determined to change it. I will find my happiness. I have already started. Though, thinking about what my sister is dealing with, I am not sure if I can be the "other woman" for long. But for now, I will take what I can get. I will accept the small measure of joy that I am allowed, and hold on with both hands. It has been so long since I even had that much. I hate Virginia for hurting my sister. I hate my brother-in law for hurting her too. But really, what makes me any different? Who am I willing to hurt in order to get my own joy? Who am I to judge? That's all, Bye.

In silence...

Okay, so this morning I woke up, and got Corey moving a bit faster to make it to school on time. I called The Honey, who is yet again on the road which means that he is much more available to me. We chatted for a couple of minutes, and then he went back to sleep. (He is working the night shift for the next ten days on this current job. Hours he is not used to working, and so the poor baby kept yawning through our call.) I answered a few emails, and sent a couple of my own. I brushed my teeth, and brushed my hair. I sat back down at the computer, and was just going to turn on the television to watch Good Morning America when it hit me. My hands shook a little as I put down the television remote without turning it on. I remember sitting here six years ago, watching in disbelief as the world changed for ever. I had been sleeping in that morning. I had to get up and go to work, I had to get Corey her breakfast. The hubby had gotten up with Jamie, and Jamie was already at school. I remember being awakened by the hubby. "You have to get up.", he said. "You have to see this, you won't believe it." Then he walked out of the room. I struggled up out of sleep, knowing that I had so much to get done in the hour before I headed off to work. I went to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth. I walked right past the television without noticing a thing, to get a cup of coffee. When I sat down on the couch, I noticed that the hubby was just staring at the television. I turned to look. The sound was turned down very low, Corey was playing nearby, oblivious. I watched as the World Trade Center burned. I watched in silence as the second plane hit. The tears fell. My boss called. He said they were saying it could be a terrorist attack. How could that be possible, I thought to myself. This could not happen to us. That only happens in other parts of the world, we are safe. I hurriedly got dressed, and Jimmy, Corey and I went to my office. I was working as a secretary back then. We had a big screen television in our office. As I walked in, I opened the blinds. I needed to feel the sunlight. There were other people there. About ten of us all told. We sat and watched, stunned. When people spoke, it was in whispers. As if by saying things aloud, we could make it worse somehow. We channel hopped. Hoping that each new station we tried would tell a different story, would say that it was not real, this horror we were witnessing. I cried. I was scared. Mark, my boss, put his arms around me and told me it would be okay. I called the school, and asked if they had told the kids what was happening. I wanted Jamie protected from this. The school was keeping hush about what was going on. The kids didn't know. I wanted to bring Jamie home, to have him with me, to make him feel safe. But I did not feel safe. We live very near to Offutt Air Force Base, and we are one of the largest railway hubs in the country. If these people were out to disrupt America, that would be a way to do it. These are the thoughts that went through my head. My head was spinning, thinking of all the possible targets that are near me. The television spewed forth fact and theory, knowledge and supposition. None of it seemed real. They landed planes. The skies grew quiet. It is odd sometimes, how you do not really notice a sound, until it isn't there anymore. Between Eppley Airfield and Offutt Air base, the skies here are never quiet. It was eerie. We watched as a plane hit the Pentagon. And one crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. Eventually we heard the roar of a plane nearby. It frightened me. We soon learned that it was Airforce One, bringing our newly elected President to relative safety at Offutt. It didn't make me feel safer. It made me more afraid. I hate to say it, but I was glad when we heard the plane leaving. It would not have been so bad, except that the damned media told the whole world he was here. I firmly believe in freedom of the press, but I also firmly believe that they were violating all common sense, and national security by broadcasting the location of our leader. Idiots. I remember sitting and staring at the big screen for hours on end. Watching in technicolor as the world became a different place for me. A place that was no longer safe. A place where I might never feel safe again. I thought about all my friends that serve our country. I worried for them. I cried for them, because I knew that retaliation for such an atrocious act would be swift and hard. I knew that I might lose some of them. I called our local Red Cross, and set an appointment to donate blood. I called people that I loved. I kissed my husband. I hugged my friends. We did not work that day in my office. We sat, and cried, and talked of what was next. We made plans of places to meet in an emergency. Plans that we hoped would help keep our families safe. I went home that day early. We all did. The television kept reporting the bad news. And we kept watching. We learned that many people died. And feared that many more would still. We kept waiting to see survivors, being healed, being whole. It didn't happen. I finally went to sleep that night. Jimmy did not come to bed. I slept with my children. I held on to them a little tighter than usual. The next day, I woke up. I sent my son to school. I made my daughter breakfast. I went to work. I started living my life again. But it would never be the same. I still do not feel safe. I know now that we will never be truly safe again. It was always just an illusion. I spoke to The Honey shortly after that day. He would be going to war soon. I did not know it then, but I think he did. Men are still dying because of what happened that day. Men still far from home. I thank them, today. Thank them for doing what needs to be done, so that the people responsible for all this hatred will someday be brought to justice. I believe that it will happen someday. I believe that we will have, if not peace, then at least a semblance of such. I pray for it daily. I pray for the men and women who will continue to try to make the world a little safer for us all. But just for today, I will not watch television. Just for today, I will not turn on the radio. I just want to remember in silence. That's all, Goodbye.

All the king's horses, and all the king's men...

Okay, so tonight I was having a simply giggly time with my sis-in-law Tish, when she asked me if I read her newest blog. I had not. I had been at her blog earlier tonight, before she posted her latest entry. I put her on hold, and went to read it. It simply moved me to tears. Be forewarned, it is not easy reading. It is not light, and giddy. It is not like my usual whiny, petty, self pitying bullshit. It is her life, as she lived it. Through the eyes of a child. With the soul of an adult. A scarred adult. (She titled her entries Innocence Lost, so far she has published four parts. Grab some tissue before you read it.) When I told her that I am sorry, that she should never have had to endure such atrocities, she responded that it is no big deal, and that she is a better person because of it. I told her that she is a scarred person because of it, that she is an amazing person despite it. I believe that with all my heart. You know, I will never understand the world in which men live, where they think it is okay to take whatever they want, however they have to get it, regardless of the cost to someone else. How can they live that way? I have done many things in my life of which I am not proud, but to hurt another human being in such a manner is beyond all my comprehension. To leave another person so damaged that all the king's horses, and all the king's men, could never put them together again...it just doesn't make any sense. Why? What desire could be so great? What urge so powerful that you could permanently destroy someones very soul? In all my life, I have yet to meet a woman, who has not been touched by some form of sexual assault. I myself have been the victim of numerous assaults on my body. From family members who "just fondled you, it is no big deal, it is not like I actually raped you".. (Yes, that was the response of one of them who I confronted when I became an adult.), to date rape ( I said yes to the date and accepted the drinks he bought so that meant I willing I guess..NOT.), to being raped by my boyfriend when I said no once in awhile (He would just hold me down and take what he wanted when he wanted it, I finally found the strength to leave.), and last but not least I was once slipped GHB, rohypnol, or ketamine in one of my drinks at the bar. My friends saw me leaving with a man I had known and been friendly with for four years. They thought nothing of it, they thought he was just driving me home, as he had done numerous times before. I remember waking up in some bed, being fucked by a man I had never even so much as held hands with. I remember my body feeling as though it was weighted down, as though no power in heaven or on earth could have made me move of my own accord. I remember crying, and wanting to scream, but all that would come was a whispered "No." I woke up the next day, sitting in the stairwell of my apartment building. I remember being sore, and bleeding. I just crawled into my apartment, and into the tub, and scrubbed myself until I was raw. I still wonder why. Why did this man think that was okay? This man who knew me, and knew that while I went to the bar and had a good time, I always went home alone, by choice. Who knew that I respected myself enough that I did not have one night stands. Why could he not also have respected me? He was a good looking man. Sexy and strong, and I had watched over the years as he fended off woman after woman, night after night. In all that time, he had never once indicated to me that he was in any way attracted to me. Oh, we had danced many a dance, and flirted the innocent flirts of friends, but he never once said that he wanted something more. So, I assume it was not about his wanting me, it was not about the sex itself, so what was it? That is what i do not get. What is the pull of having someone completely at your mercy? What is the draw? I never reported any of these acts of hate against me to the authorities. I was, for years, embarrassed and ashamed, thinking that I must have done something to cause these offences against me. I now know better. I was not made a better person by these acts of theft against my soul. They left no battle wounds that I wear proudly. But they have left me scarred. Each in their own unique way. But despite that I go on, as do so many of the brave and strong women I have known in my life. And each day that I can love the fierce love I own, each time that I make love to a man of my choice, I reclaim a small piece of myself. See, I may be scarred, but I have not been beaten. I give the shame of these acts back to the men who deserve it. I claim my freedom. And I hope in time, that Tish too, will see what I see when I look at her. A woman of great strength and beauty. A woman who is beating the odds. A woman whose love is fierce, and tender. A woman who struggles, but will not speak the word defeat. A woman I am proud to call my friend. That's all, Goodnight.